tachments reach
their {102} places that Ferguson found himself attacked on every side
at once.

On horseback the gallant Briton leads his regulars in a bayonet
charge down the steep hillside. With the Indian war whoop, which
echoes and re-echoes, Campbell's riflemen rush forward. They have no
bayonets, and are driven down the hill. In a voice of thunder,
Campbell rallies his men, and up the hill they go with a still
deadlier fire, as the regulars retreat.

[Illustration: Charging the British at King's Mountain]

Now Shelby's men swarm up on the other side. Again the bayonets drive
these new foes down the rocky cliffs. No sooner do the redcoats
retire, than up comes Shelby again at the head of his men, nearer the
top than before.

Meanwhile the riflemen, behind every tree and every rock, were
picking off the redcoats. Clad in a hunting shirt, and blowing his
silver whistle, the brave Ferguson dashes here and there to rally his
men. He cuts and slashes with his sword until it is broken off at the
hilt. Two horses are killed under him.

Some of the Tories raise a white flag. Ferguson rides up and cuts it
down. A second flag is raised elsewhere. He rides there and cuts that
down.

Now he flies at Sevier's riflemen, who had just made their way to the
top of the hill. At once they recognize their man. In an instant,
half a dozen bullets strike the gallant officer, and he falls dead
from his horse. No longer is the shrill whistle heard.

{103} Colonel De Peyster, the next in command, bravely keeps up the
fight, but the deadly rifles have done their work. The British are
hemmed in and there is no escape. At the head of their men the
several colonels arrive at the top of the hill about the same time.
The Tories are now huddled together near the baggage wagons.

"Quarter! quarter!" they cry everywhere.

"Remember Buford!" madly shout the victorious patriots.

"Throw down your arms, if you want quarter!" cries Shelby.

In despair, De Peyster at last raises a white flag, and white
handkerchiefs are waved from ramrods. Some of the younger
backwoodsmen did not know what a white flag meant, and kept on
firing. The colonels ordered them to stop, and then made the Tories
take off their hats and sit down on the ground.

There had been fierce and bloody work this beautiful autumn
afternoon, on the crest of that rocky hill. Friends, neighbors, and
relatives, in their bitter hatred, taunted and jeered one another, as
they s