the Wabash in the canoes he had built, and they were soon on the eastern
bank of the river, the side on which Vincennes stood. They now hoped to
get to town by nightfall; but there was no dry land for leagues round
about, save where a few hillocks rose island-like above the flood. The
Frenchmen whom they had captured said they could not possibly get along;
but Clark led the men in person, and they waded with infinite toil for
about three miles, the water often up to their chins; and they then
camped on a hillock for the night. Clark kept the troops cheered up by
every possible means, and records that he was much assisted by "a little
antic drummer," a young boy who did good service by making the men laugh
with his pranks and jokes. [Footnote: Law, in his "Vincennes" (p. 32),
makes the deeds of the drummer the basis for a traditional story that is
somewhat too highly colored. Thus he makes Clark's men at one time
mutiny, and refuse to go forwards. This they never did; the Creoles once
got dejected and wished to return, but the Americans, by Clark's own
statement, never faltered at all. Law's "Vincennes" is an excellent
little book, but he puts altogether too much confidence in mere
tradition. For another instance besides this, see page 68, where he
describes Clark as entrapping and killing "upwards of fifty Indians,"
instead of only eight or nine, as was actually the case.]

Next morning they resumed their march, the strongest wading painfully
through the water, while the weak and famished were carried in the
canoes, which were so hampered by the bushes that they could hardly go
even as fast as the toiling footmen. The evening and morning guns of the
fort were heard plainly by the men as they plodded onward, numbed and
weary. Clark, as usual, led them in person. Once they came to a place so
deep that there seemed no crossing, for the canoes could find no ford.
It was hopeless to go back or stay still, and the men huddled together,
apparently about to despair. But Clark suddenly blackened his face with