His movements were marked by equal promptitude and wariness.  He suffered no risks from a neglect of proper precaution.  His habits of circumspection and resolve ran together in happy unison.  His plans, carefully considered beforehand, were always timed with the happiest reference to the condition and feelings of his men.  To prepare that condition, and to train those feelings, were the chief employment of his repose.  He knew his game, and how it should be played, before a step was taken or a weapon drawn.

When he himself or any of his parties left the island upon an expedition, they advanced along no beaten paths.  They made them as they went.  He had the Indian faculty in perfection, of gathering his course from the sun, from the stars, from the bark and the tops of trees, and such other natural guides as the woodman acquires only through long and watchful experience.

Many of the trails thus opened by him, upon these expeditions, are now the ordinary avenues of the country.  On starting, he almost invariably struck into the woods, and seeking the heads of the larger water courses, crossed them at their first and small beginnings.  He destroyed the bridges where he could.  He preferred fords.  The former not only facilitated the progress of less fearless enemies, but apprised them of his own approach.  If speed was essential, a more direct but not less cautious route was pursued.

He intrusted his schemes to nobody, not even his most confidential officers.  He consulted with them respectfully, heard them patiently, weighed their suggestions, and silently approached his conclusions.  They knew his determinations only from his actions.  He left no track behind him, if it were possible to avoid it.  He was often vainly hunted after by his own detachments.  He was more apt at finding them than they him.  His scouts were taught a peculiar and shrill whistle, which, at night, could be heard at a most astonishing distance.  We are reminded of a signal of Roderick Dhu:—­

                  “He whistled shrill,
    And he was answered from the hill;
    Wild as the scream of the curlew,
    From crag to crag the signal flew.”

His expeditions were frequently long, and his men, hurrying forth without due preparation, not unfrequently suffered much privation from want of food.  To guard against this danger, it was their habit to watch his cook.  If they saw him unusually busied in preparing supplies of the rude, portable food which it was Marion’s custom to carry on such occasions, they knew what was before them, and provided themselves accordingly.  In no other way could they arrive at their general’s intentions.  His favorite time for moving was with the setting sun, and then it was known that the march would continue all night.

His men were badly clothed in homespun,—­a light wear which afforded little warmth.  They slept in the open air, and frequently without a blanket.  Their ordinary food consisted of sweet potatoes, garnished, on fortunate occasions, with lean beef.  Their swords, unless taken from the enemy, were made out of mill saws, roughly manufactured by a forest blacksmith.