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
The negro made no excuse for having followed us, even when Gabriel told
him harshly that he should be reported to the general for having come
away without permission; but aided the new recruits in mounting, and
then got into his own saddle, keeping silent all the while, as if the
possible reproof which he might receive from the commander made but
little difference to him.
After mounting, our progress was no more rapid than if we had remained
on foot, for it seemed impossible to urge the animals at a pace faster
than a walk, and I believed morning must be near at hand when we
finally come to the place where our people had halted.
All of our men were not given over to slumber, as we knew by our being
challenged before understanding how near to us were our friends, and
five minutes later we were standing by the side of the general and
Captain Horry, the former asking without rising to his feet, as if his
eyes had not been closed in slumber:
“What disaster has befallen you?”
We soon gave him to understand that fortune had played us a good turn,
and immediately the information was given both the officers were on
their feet. One would have said that neither had ever known fatigue,
to have seen the two as they ran here and there shaking the slumberers
into wakefulness.
I supposed the news we brought would have caused some sensation in
camp, but never believed it would be acted upon so quickly. Within
fifteen minutes from the time of our being challenged by the sentinel,
every man was in the saddle, and we eight lads who formed the company
of Minute Boys were riding at the head of the column in order to point
out the place where the soldiers and Seth Hastings were encamped.
We now learned that it was midnight; the tired men and their horses
had enjoyed six hours of rest, and although our advance was not rapid,
we pressed forward with greater speed than I had believed possible,
for our own steeds appeared to be revived by the companionship of the
others.
Old Peter had not been reprimanded as was his due; indeed the fact was
that neither Gabriel nor I had remembered to tell the general of his
having followed us, so great was the excitement after our arrival at
the camping-place, and he had no share in my thoughts as we advanced,
until suddenly he came riding up from the rear, saying when he was
abreast of Gabriel:
“Down yander am wha’ I stood wid de hosses, Marse Gabriel,” and hearing
this, our commander gave the order to halt by bringing his own steed to
a standstill.
But for the old negro we might have overridden the place in ignorance
of our whereabouts, and thus we were spared the chagrin of acting as
guides while not being familiar with the ground. Without delay eight
men dismounted that they might continue on under cover of the foliage,
and thus surprise the squad.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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