And I heard this, and much more that was spoken of in low tones at the Colonel's fire far into the night, of which I never told the rank and file,--not even Tom McChesney.
On and on, through rain and water, we marched until we drew near to the river Embarrass.Drew near, did Isay? ''Sure, darlin','' said Terence, staring comically over the gray waste, ``we've been in it since Choosd'y.''
There was small exaggeration in it.In vain did our feet seek the deeper water.It would go no higher than our knees, and the sound which the regiment made in marching was like that of a great flatboat going against the current.It had been a sad, lavender-colored day, and now that the gloom of the night was setting in, and not so much as a hummock showed itself above the surface, the Creoles began to murmur.And small wonder!
Where was this man leading them, this Clark who had come amongst them from the skies, as it were? Did he know, himself? Night fell as though a blanket had been spread over the tree-tops, and above the dreary splashing men could be heard calling to one another in the darkness.
Nor was there any supper ahead.For our food was gone, and no game was to be shot over this watery waste.Acold like that of eternal space settled in our bones.Even Terence McCann grumbled.
``Begob,'' said he, `` 'tis fine weather for fishes, and the birrds are that comfortable in the threes.'Tis no place for a baste at all, at all.''
Sometime in the night there was a cry.Ray had found the water falling from an oozy bank, and there we dozed fitfully until we were startled by a distant boom.
It was Governor Hamilton's morning gun at Fort Sackville, Vincennes.
There was no breakfast.How we made our way, benumbed with hunger and cold, to the banks of the Wabash, I know not.Captain McCarty's company was set to making canoes, and the rest of us looked on apathetically as the huge trees staggered and fell amidst a fountain of spray in the shallow water.We were but three leagues from Vincennes.A raft was bound together, and Tom McChesney and three other scouts sent on a desperate journey across the river in search of boats and provisions, lest we starve and fall and die on the wet flats.Before he left Tom came to me, and the remembrance of his gaunt face haunted me for many years after.He drew something from his bosom and held it out to me, and Isaw that it was a bit of buffalo steak which he had saved.
I shook my head, and the tears came into my eyes.
``Come, Davy,'' he said, ``ye're so little, and I beant hungry.''
Again I shook my head, and for the life of me I could say nothing.
``I reckon Polly Ann'd never forgive me if anything was to happen to you,'' said he.
At that I grew strangely angry.
``It's you who need it,'' I cried, ``it's you that has to do the work.And she told me to take care of you.''
The big fellow grinned sheepishly, as was his wont.
`` 'Tis only a bite,'' he pleaded, `` 'twouldn't only make me hungry, and''--he looked hard at me--``and it might be the savin' of you.Ye'll not eat it for Polly Ann's sake?'' he asked coaxingly.
" 'Twould not be serving her,'' I answered indignantly.
``Ye're an obstinate little deevil!'' he cried, and, dropping the morsel on the freshly cut stump, he stalked away.
I ran after him, crying out, but he leaped on the raft that was already in the stream and began to pole across.Islipped the piece into my own hunting shirt.
