Two musket-shots told him that an enemy was near at hand, and almost immediately afterward the firing became so rapid that he knew an encounter was already begun.
That brave officer thought only of his men, and so nearly were the interests of the squad allied, that he forgot all else save the desire to be with them in the time of danger.
He rushed into the fight, forgetting to take with him even his saber—intent only on being with those who had so well proven their devotion to the Cause.
The British were seventeen in number, well armed, and commanded by a brave fellow named Merritt; but they were taken by surprise.
The redcoats retreated, but turned in their flight to strike a blow, and our men, believing they had been ordered on even to death, pursued with fatal earnestness.
Of the enemy's force only two men escaped death or capture, and one of these was the captain, of whom Colonel Horry writes:
"My men in succession came up with Captain Merritt, who was in the rear of his party, urging them forward. They engaged him. He was a brave fellow. Baxter, with pistols, fired at his breast, and missing him, retired; Postell and Greene, with swords, engaged him; both were beaten off. Greene nearly lost his head. His buckskin breeches were cut through several inches. I almost blush to say that this one British officer beat off three Americans. Merritt escaped to a neighboring swamp, from whence, at midnight, he got to Georgetown."
I would it were possible for me to give as brief an account, with as satisfactory an ending, regarding our portion of the reconnoiter.
As has been said, after crossing White's Bridge the two squads separated, Colonel Horry's going toward the left and ours to the right.
Then it was, as we rode on slowly, mentally nerved for anything which might happen and fully expecting sharp and bloody work at any instant, that Gabriel Marion said, looking first at Percy and then at me: