mutineers were silent, owing to the ordeal they had gone through. But
presently, when they began to be warmed and fed, they talked of other
trials to be borne. The Embarrass and the big Wabash, for example.
These must be like the sea itself.

"Take the back trail, if ye like," said Bill Cowan, with a loud laugh.
"I reckon the rest of us kin float to Vincennes on Davy's drum."

But there was no taking the back trail now; and well they knew it. The
games began, the unwilling being forced to play, and before they fell
asleep that night they had taken Vincennes, scalped the Hair Buyer, and
were far on the march to Detroit.

Mercifully, now that their stomachs were full, they had no worries. Few
knew the danger we were in of being cut off by Hamilton's roving bands of
Indians. There would be no retreat, no escape, but a fight to the death.
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 I say? "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