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
By this time we were come to the main entrance of the house, where the
doors should have been flung wide open at the sound of our horses’
hoofs, for Master Sinclair was noted throughout the Colonies for his
hospitality.
Not a sound could be heard as Gabriel dismounted, beckoning me to do
the same, and the other lads remained in the saddle as we two opened
the door, which was unfastened, and entered the dwelling.
Inside it was as if the family had just stepped out for a moment;
nothing appeared to be disturbed, such as must have been the case in
the event of the redcoats visiting the plantation, for those hirelings
of the king never lost an opportunity to destroy whatsoever of
property they came across which could not be carried away.
We shouted as we went from one apartment to the other, but received no
reply, and then for the first time did Gabriel speak:
“There has been something of disaster here, Rufus, and what it is we
should learn without delay.”
“But I see no signs of wrong-doing, or of trouble. Mayhap the Sinclairs
have gone away for a friendly visit.”
“But why should the dwelling have been left thus deserted with not a
door fastened?”
“I question if Master Sinclair ever believed it necessary to bar his
doors,” was my reply, and at the same time there was much of disquiet
in my mind, for the entire absence of life upon this plantation where I
had ever seen so much of bustle and gaiety, was mystifying.
Having satisfied ourselves that the dwelling was indeed unoccupied,
Gabriel led the way to the front door, and there said to Jacob Breen
and Archie Gordon:
“Ride through the negro quarters and out into the fields, to see if you
may come across any of the servants.”
The lads departed at once, and when Gabriel seated himself on the
edge of the veranda, his chin in his hands as if trying to solve some
difficult problem, Jared Green, forgetting that it was a soldier’s duty
to remain silent until spoken to by his commander, asked with somewhat
of fretfulness in his tone:
“Is there any good reason why we should remain in the saddle while the
sun beats down on us so fiercely?”
“No, lad, I had forgotten my duty,” Gabriel replied gently, looking up
as if just aroused from some dream. “It is well that you stable and
feed your horses while there is opportunity, for we may be in need of
leaving this place hurriedly, when fresh steeds will be of more value
than those that are jaded.”
The lads knew full well where to find quarters for the animals, and
they rode away, taking with them Gabriel’s horse and mine, whereupon
our leader looked at me with mute inquiry in his eyes. There was no
need for him to give words to the question which I saw there.
“I cannot make a guess, lad. It is enough for us, however, that there
are no signs of the British near about, and, as I look at the matter,
we are as clearly bound to remain here on guard as if having found the
family waiting to give us welcome.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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