Even with those new recruits which had just joined us, the “ragged regiment” was yet no more than a handful of men, who were about to try conclusions, as I have already stated, against the pick of the English forces. That we should be able to ride through this camp, as we had the other two, seemed an absolute impossibility, and, as the matter presented itself to my mind, the utmost of success which could be reasonably anticipated was that while we engaged the attention of the escort, some of the prisoners might succeed in escaping. I firmly believed that when this combat was come to an end, we, who took the patriot side of it, would have struck our last blow in behalf of the Cause; for when it was ended there seemed little probability any of us would be alive or at liberty. We lads who called ourselves the Minute Boys made ready for the coming engagement by forming a compact body, each being determined that we would bear our share in this fight as a separate command, for we were like never to have another opportunity of riding shoulder to shoulder in behalf of the Cause. “It is not fair that Gabriel should ride in advance of us, even though he be the leader,” Archie Gordon said in a whisper during those brief moments when we were awaiting the signal of attack. “There are few of us lads, and each should have an equal opportunity of showing whether it is in him to play the part of a man.” “And that is what you shall have, lad,” Gabriel replied as he pulled his horse back until standing in line with the others, and he had no more than spoken when General Marion said in a low tone, but so distinctly that all could hear the words: “Follow me, comrades, and do not make the mistake of thinking that this is anything of a desperate dash, for you have but to do what has been done twice before and victory will be ours beyond a peradventure.” Then he spurred his horse forward without further word of encouragement or command, and in another instant we were riding at full speed straight for the encampment where there was every reason to believe three or four hundred well-trained, well-armed soldiers were ready to receive us to the best of their ability. Were it not that all this account of what was done at Nelson’s Ferry by the handful of men under General Marion’s command has been set down again and again in the pages of history, I would hesitate to tell the story, lest those who may read it accuse me of drawing the long bow in order to make that which we did appear all the more heroic. I am free to confess that even now, as I look back upon that night in memory, it seems more like some fantastical dream than an absolute reality, for by all the rules of war we should have been wiped out of existence before we had come within striking distance of the encampment. However, I am setting down only that which was done, and there are hundreds of men living to-day who can bear me out in every statement I make.