"Not yet!" snarled my companion. "I must be in the thick o' that fight. We're too far east to git to camp in a hustle. We must sneak atween the hills an' that small slash (Virginian for marsh). Foller me." We changed our course so as to avoid the low hills drained by Crooked Creek, and made after the warriors. About an hour before sunrise we were at the head of the marsh, and in time to witness the first act of the day's great drama. Two men were working out of the fallen timber, and Cousin threw up his double-barrel rifle. I checked him, saying: "Don't! They're white!" "Renegades!" "John Sevier's younger brother, Valentine. T'other is Jim Robertson." "Then Lewis knows. He sent 'em to scout the camp." "They're after game. James Shelby is sick with the fever. Yesterday morning he asked them to perch a turkey for him. Signal them. They know nothing about the Indians!" Cousin risked discovery by standing clear of the bushes and waving his hat. "There comes two more of 'em!" he exclaimed. This couple was some distance behind the Watauga boys, but I recognized them. One was James Mooney, my companion on the Coal River scout. The other was Joseph Hughey. I jumped out and stood beside Cousin and waved my arms frantically. One of them caught the motion and said something. The four paused and stared at us. We made emphatic gestures for them to fall back. At first they were slow to understand, thinking, as Sevier told me afterward, that I was pointing out some game. Then they turned to run, Robertson and Sevier firing their rifles to the woods to the north of us. These were the first guns fired in the battle of Point Pleasant. From the woods came the noise of a large body of men advancing. A ripple of shots was sent after the hunters. Hughey and Mooney halted and returned the fire. A streak of red some distance ahead of the Shawnees' position, and close to the river-bank, dropped Hughey dead. This shot was fired by Tavenor Ross, a white man, who was captured by the Indians when a boy and who had grown up among them. Mooney, Robertson and young Sevier were now running for the camp, passing between the Ohio bank and the marsh. We raced after them just as a man named Hickey ran from the bushes and joined them. The Indians kept up a scattering fire and they made much noise as they spread out through the woods in battle-line. They supposed we were the scouts of an advancing army. It is the only instance I know of where insubordination saved any army from a surprise attack, and possibly from defeat. To escape detection while breaking the orders against foraging, the five men named had stolen from the camp at an early hour.