hill on the border line between North and South Carolina, he
camped on its top, deeming that there he was safe, for he
supposed that before the backwoodsmen could come near enough to
attack him help would reach him. But the backwoods leaders felt
as keenly as he the need of haste, and choosing out nine hundred
picked men, the best warriors of their force, and the best
mounted and armed, they made a long forced march to assail
Ferguson before help could come to him. All night long they rode
the dim forest trails and splashed across the fords of the
rushing rivers. All the next day, October 16, they rode, until in
mid-afternoon, just as a heavy shower cleared away, they came in
sight of King's Mountain. The little armies were about equal in
numbers. Ferguson's regulars were armed with the bayonet, and so
were some of his Tory militia, whereas the Americans had not a
bayonet among them; but they were picked men, confident in their
skill as riflemen, and they were so sure of victory that their
aim was not only to defeat the British but to capture their whole
force. The backwoods colonels, counseling together as they rode
at the head of the column, decided to surround the mountain and
assail it on all sides. Accordingly the bands of frontiersmen
split one from the other, and soon circled the craggy hill where
Ferguson's forces were encamped. They left their horses in the
rear and immediately began the battle, swarming forward on foot,
their commanders leading the attack.

The march had been so quick and the attack so sudden that
Ferguson had barely time to marshal his men before the assault
was made. Most of his militia he scattered around the top of the
hill to fire down at the Americans as they came up, while with
his regulars and with a few picked militia he charged with the