fellow, who
"would not fight like a gentleman or a Christian," than he
had ever been able to give him hard blows.

Tarleton withdrawn, Marion resumed all his old activity, his
audacity reaching the extent of making an attack on the
British garrison at Georgetown. This was performed in
conjunction with Major Lee, who had been sent by General
Greene to Marion's aid. Lee had no little trouble to find
him. The active partisan was so constantly moving about, now
in deep swamps, now far from his lurking-places, that friend
and foe alike were puzzled to trace his movements. They met
at last, however, and made a midnight attack on Georgetown,
unsuccessful, as it proved, yet sufficient to redouble the
alarm of the enemy.

In the spring of 1781 we find Colonel Watson, with a force
of five hundred men, engaged in the difficult task of
"crushing Marion." He found him,--unlike the
predecessors,--but, as it proved, to his own cost. Marion
was now at Snow's Island, whence he emerged to strike a
quick succession of heavy blows at such different points
that he appeared to be ubiquitous. His force met that of
Watson unexpectedly, and a fight ensued. Watson had the
advantage of field-pieces, and Marion was obliged to fall
back. Reaching a bridge over the Black River, he checked
his pursuers with telling volleys long enough to burn the
bridge. Then a peculiar contest took place. The two forces
marched down the stream, one on each side, for ten miles,
skirmishing across the water all the way. Darkness ended the
fight. The two camps were pitched near together. For ten
days Watson remained there, not able to get at Marion, and
so annoyed by the constant raids of his active foe that in
the end he made a midnight flight to escape destruction in
detail. Marion pursued, and did him no small damage in the
flight. Watson's only solace was the remark, already quoted,
that his troublesome foe would not "fight like a gentleman
or a Christian."

Major Lee tells an amusing story of an incident that
happened to himself, on his march in search of Marion. He
had encamped for the night on Drowning Creek, a branch of
the Pedee. As morning approached, word was brought to the
officer of the day that noises were heard in front of the
pickets, in the direction of the creek. They seemed like the
stealthy movements of men. Now a sentinel fired, the bugles
sounded for the horse patrols to come in, and the whole
force was quickly got ready for the coming e