“What do you intend to do?” said Kline to me.
“I intend to fight,” said I. “I intend to try your strength.”
“If you will withdraw your men,” he replied, “I will withdraw mine.”
I told him it was too late. “You would not withdraw when you had the chance,—you shall not now.”
Kline then went back to Hanway and Lewis. Gorsuch made a signal to his men, and they all fell into line. I followed his example as well as I could; but as we were not more than ten paces apart, it was difficult to do so. At this time we numbered but ten, while there were between thirty and forty of the white men.
While I was talking to Gorsuch, his son said, “Father, will you take all this from a nigger?”
I answered him by saying that I respected old age; but that, if he would repeat that, I should knock his teeth down his throat. At this he fired upon me, and I ran up to him and knocked the pistol out of his hand, when he let the other one fall and ran in the field.
My brother-in-law, who was standing near, then said, “I can stop him”—and with his double-barrel gun he fired.
Young Gorsuch fell, but rose and ran on again. Pinckney fired a second time and again Gorsuch fell, but was soon up again and, running into the cornfield, lay down in the fence corner.
I returned to my men, and found Samuel Thompson talking to old Mr. Gorsuch, his master. They were both angry.