The British first discovered captain Clarke, which they did in the way of a glimpse, through an opening in the woods; then sounding their bugles, they rushed on to the charge. Unfortunately, Clarke had not yet seen the enemy, and mistaking their bugles for the huntsmen's horns, ordered a halt to see the deer go by. But instead of a herd of flying deer, behold! a column of British cavalry all at once bursting into the road, and shouting and rushing on with drawn swords to the charge. In a moment, as if themselves metamorphosed into deer, Clarke and his advance wheeled about, and giving their horses "the timber",* flew back upon our main body, roaring out as they came in sight -- "The British! the British!" -- * This is a Carolina phrase for slashing. If a husband should so far forget himself as to beat his wife! which, thank God, is very rare, his neighbors, with great scorn, say of him as he pokes his hated face along, Aye, that's the jockey that gives his wife the timber. -- Quick as thought my men caught the panic, and facing about, took to their heels, and went off as if the d---l had been behind them. I bawled after them as loud as I could roar, "Halt! Halt!" but I might as well have bawled to the whirlwinds, for it appeared to me the louder I bawled, the swifter the rascals flew. Whereupon I clapped spurs to my young Janus, and went off after them at full stretch, hoping to gain their front and so bring them to. Being mounted on a young full-blooded charger, fresh and strong from the stable, I bid fair to gain my point too, for I was coming up with them hand over hand. -- But, in that very juncture of time, as the Lord was pleased to order it, my girth gave way, my saddle turned, and my charger fetching a ground start, threw me, saddle, holsters, and all, full ten feet over his head, and then ran off. I received no harm, God be praised for it, but recovering my legs in an instant, bawled out again to my men to halt and form. Happily for me, at the very moment of my disaster, the enemy, suspecting our flight to be only a finesse, had halted, while only sixteen dragoons under colonel Camp, continued the chase. Scorning to fly from such a handful, some of my more resolute fellows, thirteen in number, faced about, and very deliberately taking their aim at the enemy as they came up, gave them a `spanker', which killed upwards of half their number. The rest took to flight, leaving their colonel, whose horse was slain, to shift for himself, which he quickly did by running into the woods.