The Minute Boys of South Carolina : $b A story of "How we boys aided Marion the Swamp Fox"Otis, James
History
The Minute Boys of South Carolina : $b A story of "How we boys aided Marion the Swamp Fox"
Otis, James
Marion, Francis, 1732-1795 -- Juvenile fiction; South Carolina -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
If I had been given the privilege of naming these fortunate ones the
matter could not have turned more to my satisfaction, for, oddly
enough, Gabriel, Archie, and myself drew the shortened twigs. However
much the others might grumble because they were to remain idle in camp
eight and forty hours, there could be no question as to the fairness of
the award.
It can well be fancied with what care we groomed the horses selected
for the journey, and how critical we were in selecting weapons,
portioning out the ammunition, or making up packages of provisions
sufficient to last us two days. We completed this work before sunset,
and then had nothing to do save wait until the following noon, for
it was the general’s desire that each scouting party should leave
twenty-four hours later than the preceding one.
It seemed to me as if the time would never come, so heavily did the
moments lag, and I dare venture to say we three lads were in the saddle
a half an hour before Captain Horry gave the word for old Peter to lead
us out over the trail. No special orders had been given. We were simply
to scout in whatsoever direction we chose, taking good care not to run
such risks as might jeopardize our liberty, for the task set us was
to gather information, without striking a blow, however tempting the
opportunity.
It seemed wise to me that we travel toward the south, for in that
direction not only lay home and friends, but the enemy as well,
although there was little belief in our minds that we should come
across the redcoats in this section of the country. It was reasonable
to suppose, however, that the people living near about could give us
word concerning what was being done, and more than that we did not hope.
There was a possibility, however, that we might come across one or more
beggarly Tories who were striving to earn the reward my Lord Clinton
had offered for the discovery of the general’s hiding-place, and unless
we found such cattle in too large numbers, we were instructed to make
them prisoners in order to prevent their carrying back any word which
would be of value to the enemy.
Therefore it was we rode along the banks of the Waccamau River until
late in the afternoon, our faces turned toward Williamsburg District.
Then, as we halted to give our steeds a chance to drink, Archie said
as he dismounted and began to unloose the girths of his saddle:
“Since we cannot expect to gain any information which may be of value
during the night, why should we not halt here rather than four or five
miles farther on?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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