By D.L. Moody
There is a story told of an incident that occurred during the last Indian mutiny. The English were besieged in the city of Lucknow, and were in momentary expectation of perishing at the hands of the fiends that surrounded them.
There was a little Scotch lassie in this fort, and, while lying on the ground, she suddenly shouted, her face aglow with joy, "Dinna ye hear them comin'? Dinna ye hear them comin'?" "Hear what?" they asked. "Dinna ye hear them comin'?" And she sprang to her feet.
It was the bagpipes of her native Scotland she heard. It was a native air she heard that was played by a regiment of her countrymen marching to the relief of those captives, and these deliverers made them free. O my friends, don't you hear Jesus Christ crying to you to-night?