Eight o'clock
Some of the young farmers , their meal already finished , were up on their feet , scuffling and wrestling in jest and high spirits . They laughed so heartily from time to time that Mr. Paris would call out : `` Less noise there , you , or we shall not hear the cannon from the fort ! '' No one would have thought that this was the morning before a battle . Eight o'clock arrived , and still there had been no signal . All preparations had long since been made . The saddle-horses of the officers were ready under the shade , their girths properly tightened . Blankets had been rolled up and strapped , haversacks and bags properly repacked , a last look taken to flints and priming .