the floods had made it a shallow lake four miles across, unbroken by so
much as a handsbreadth of dry land. On its farther side was a dense
wood. Clark led breast high in the water with fifteen or twenty of the
strongest men next him. About the middle of the plain the cold and
exhaustion told so on the weaker men that the canoes had to take them
aboard and carry them on to the land; and from that time on the little
dug-outs plied frantically to and fro to save the more helpless from
drowning. Those, who, though weak, could still move onwards, clung to
the stronger, and struggled ahead, Clark animating them in every
possible way. When they at last reached the woods the water became so
deep that it was to the shoulders of the tallest, but the weak and those
of low stature could now cling to the bushes and old logs, until the
canoes were able to ferry them to a spot of dry land, some ten acres in
extent, that lay near-by. The strong and tall got ashore and built
fires. Many on reaching the shore fell flat on their faces, half in the
water, and could not move farther. It was found that the fires did not
help the very weak, so every such a one was put between two strong men
who ran him up and down by the arms, and thus soon made him recover.
[Footnote: Clark's "Memoir."]

Fortunately at this time an Indian canoe, paddled by some squaws, was
discovered and overtaken by one of the dug-outs. In it was half a
quarter of a buffalo, with some corn, tallow and kettles. This was an
invaluable prize. Broth was immediately made, and was served out to the
most weakly with great care; almost all of the men got some, but very
many gave their shares to the weakly, rallying and joking them to put
them in good heart. The little refreshment, together with the fires and
the bright weather, gave new life to all. They set out again in the
afternoon, crossed a deep, narrow lake in their canoes, and after
marching a short distance came to a copse of timber from which they saw