and Doyle’s party passing by them and up the main road.  As soon as the party had passed about half a mile, Captain Thompson and his brave followers started through the wood, and kept parallel with Doyle’s party, and almost in sight, reconnoitering the movements of the enemy until they reached McIntyre’s farm, seven miles from Charlotte.  A boy plowing by the road-side, upon seeing the British soldiers pass by him, quickly mounted his horse, dashed through the nearest by-paths, and barely had time to warn the intervening families of the approach of the “red coats.”  After the foraging party reached McIntyre’s, they left a part of their men and wagons to lay in supplies, while the other part passed on under Doyle with the expectation of proceeding two or three miles further.  For this reason, Doyle was not numbered with the slain in place of his second in command.

Thompson’s party, finding some were halted at this place, moved directly towards the thicket down the spring branch, about two hundred yards from the house.  The point of a rocky ridge, covered with bushes, passed obliquely from the road to the spring, and within fifty yards of the house which sheltered them from the view or fire of the enemy.  They formed into a line about ten feet apart, and advanced silently to their intended positions.  The British were soon engaged in their work of plunder; some were at the barn throwing down oats for the wagons, others were running after the chickens, ducks and pigs, while a third party were robbing the dwelling house, the inmates having previously fled out of danger.  The soldiery, assisted by the dogs in chasing the poultry, had knocked over some bee-hives ranged along the garden fence.  The enraged insects dashed after the men, and at once the scene became one of uproar, confusion and lively excitement.  The officer in command, a portly, florid Englishman, laughed heartily at the gestures and outcries of the routed soldiers.  The attention of the guard was drawn to this single point, while, at a distance in the fields, the wagons were seen slowly approaching with their cumbrous loads.

The owner of the plantation had cautiously approached, under cover, within gun-shot of his house; the rest of the party, his neighbors, with equal care, advanced sufficiently near for the sure action of their rifles.  The distress and anger of the patriots were raised to the highest pitch when they saw the reckless merriment of their enemies, and the fruits of their industry thus suddenly withdrawn.  Their feelings could now be no longer restrained while they were anxious to try the effects of their trusty rifles.  “Boys,” cried one of the sturdy farmers, “I can’t stand this any longer—­I’ll take the captain—­each one of you choose his man, and look out for yourselves.”

These words were scarcely uttered in a suppressed tone, when the sight of his unerring rifle was drawn upon the expanded breast of the portly Englishman, who suddenly fell prostrate from the doorposts between which he was standing.