On the 6th of October he reached the southern end of the King's Mountain ridge, in South Carolina, about half a mile south of the northern boundary.

Here a rocky, semi-isolated spur juts out from the ridge, its summit--a table-land about six hundred yards long and one hundred and twenty wide at its northern end--rising not more than sixty feet above the surrounding country.

On the summit Ferguson pitched his camp.
The hill was a natural fortress, its sides forested, its bald top protected by rocks and bowlders.

All the approaches led through dense forest.

An enemy force, passing through the immediate, wooded territory, might easily fail to discover a small army nesting sixty feet above the shrouding leafage.