ton and Major Gibbs back from us, 'tis a
small matter whether the rebels' powder be dry or soaked."

"You have made all your dispositions, Major?" Tybee asked.

The major nodded. "All in apple-pie order, no thanks to either of ye.
'Tis a strong position, this, eh, Captain Ireton? I'm thinking not all
the rebel banditti out of hell will drive us from it."

"'Tis good enough," I agreed; and here the talk was broken off by the
major's diving out to berate some of his Tory militiamen who were
preparing to make a night of it with a jug of their vile country liquor.

The rain continued all that Friday night and well on into the forenoon
of the Saturday. During this interval we waited with scouts out for the
upcoming of the mountain men. At noon Major Ferguson sent a final
express to Lord Cornwallis, urging the hurrying on of the
reinforcements, not knowing that his former despatch had been
intercepted, nor that Tarleton had not as yet started to the rescue. A
little later the scouts began to come in one by one with news of the
approaching riflemen.

There was but a small body of them, not above a thousand men in all, so
the spies said, and my heart misgave me. They were without cannon and
they lacked bayonets; and moreover, when all was said, they were but
militia, all untried save in border warfare with the Indians. Could they
successfully assault the fortified camp whose defenders--thanks to the
major's ingenuity--had fitted butcher-knives to the muzzles of their
guns in lieu of bayonets? Nay, rather would they have the courage to
try?

'Twas late in the afternoon before these questions were answered. The
rain had ceased, and the chill October sunlight filtered aslant through
the trees. With the clearing skies a cold wind had sprung up, and on the
hilltop the men cowered behind the rock breastwork and waited in
strained silence. At the last moment Major Ferguson sent Captain de
Peyster to me with the request that I take command of the Tory force set
apart to defend the wagon barricade--this if my weariness would permit.
I went with the captain to make my excuses in person.

"Say no more, Captain," said this generous soldier, when I began some
lame plea for further exemption; "I had forgot your sword-cut. Take
shelter for yourself, and look on whilst we skin this riffraff alive."

And so he let me off; a favor which will make me think kindly of Patrick
Ferguson so long as I shall live. For now my work was done; and h