It was marvelous what Clark had accomplished with less than one hundred and fifty men in the three weeks he had been at the Falls, and I now conceived a higher opinion than ever of the rare qualities of the man. He had a faculty for organization, and for using men and circumstances which amounted to genius of the noblest order. Already he had builded a substantial block house on Corn Island, just above the Falls, in which all his goods, supplies, and ammunition were stored; the newly enlisted men had been taught some idea of the duties and requirements of soldiers by the work, systematically organized, of clearing and building, by the regular camp life, and the daily drills which they practiced. Still more important, they had acquired unbounded confidence in their leader, and all his orders were obeyed with a cheerful alacrity that promised well for our project.

The camp presented a busy and cheerful scene, and the neighboring settlement of emigrants had already the promise of a village in the dozen log cabins built, or building, surrounded by newly broken ground, ready for the corn planting. Our company was received with enthusiasm, and Captain Bowman by Clark with the consideration due his rank and age. Publicly I had only the formal recognition of an acquaintance, but as soon as we had been assigned a place for our camp, and the ax-men set to cutting poles for our booths, Colonel Clark, who, meantime, had concluded his interview with Captain Bowman, and given personal attention to the pitching of a small tent for his accommodation, sent a messenger to me with word that I would please follow the man to the block-house. There Colonel Clark awaited me in a small room adjoining the one in which the ammunition and extra arms were kept; he had taken this room for his own quarters that he might watch over his precious store of lead and powder and guard against its waste.

"With three hundred like you, McElroy, I'd venture an attack upon Quebec itself," was Clark's greeting, as he seized and shook both my hands in a grip that cramped them, "I see what you've done, stepped down rank a grade in order to get Bowman's militiamen to fill up your company. It glads my heart, McElroy, to know there's one kindred spirit in this enterprise with me."

The proud distinction had been mine of claiming a personal friendship with Colonel Morgan. Also I had been commended by General Arnold for my bravery at Freeman's Farm, but more than all these Colonel Clark's recognition of a sacrifice which had cost my pride no easy struggle, gratified me. Clark read men as a master in geometry reads his blackboard, and found as little difficulty in solving the human problem. Captain Bowman he had won to hearty cooperation in his plans by treating him with the dignified consideration he deemed his due, and now he took the surest way to fasten me to him as with hooks of steel.

"You have accomplished so much already, Colonel Clark," said I, "that I have less doubt than ever before of the success of your project. Your raw recruits are already soldierly in bearing, and your camp as orderly as a barrack. Our company will be the awkward squad of your command."

"Two weeks' training will bring them up with the rest," answered Clark. "Most of them are Scotch Irishmen I see—that is saying all that is necessary. But I must tell you my plans before we are interrupted. I shall often want your secret counsel, until the opportunity comes to give you a place on my staff. How much, think you, does Captain Bowman know?"

"Only, I surmise, that we are here to protect the frontier, and that it is probable we may be commanded to make a foray into the lands of the Iroquois, in which case our chances for promotion and bounty lands will be increased."

"That is well. He knows enough to have a mind prepared for further disclosure, and is not likely to turn back when he knows all. Did any suspicion of our real object seem to occur to any one in your neighborhood?"

"To no one except to my mother, and I easily allayed her shrewd suspicions. Most of our people were disposed to blame our project as diverting strength from the cause."

"More than anything else I am dreading that the English may get some information as to our movements, their suspicions be aroused, and the garrisons at Vincennes and Kaskaskia reËnforced. I have certain information, through spies I have been sending out all summer, that both places are sparsely garrisoned at present, the men having been withdrawn to defend Canadian forts, which are thought to be more exposed. Also that the commandant and most of the garrisons, if not all, at Kaskaskia are French, and not overfond of their new British masters, while the English officer in charge of Vincennes is just now absent at Detroit. You see, therefore, that we run but little risk of failure, if only our plans can be kept secret."

"Certainly the prospect is so far encouraging. When do we start and by what route?"

"In ten days or two weeks, down the river by boat to the mouth of the Tennessee, and, I suppose, landward to Kaskaskia—since that is the weaker point. Meantime we must drill and enthuse our men, load our boats and get all in readiness for a forced march. It will be best, I think, not to inform the men of our destination till necessary.

"Hello, Givens!" as a face appeared before the open window—"come in!" Then, lowering his voice to me—"be careful, McElroy, in your talk to the scout; he doesn't know all yet, and it is necessary to reveal our plans to him gradually, and to use some persuasion; he hates the Indians, and longs to fight them, but he has never consented to bear arms against Great Britain. Nor do I want to persuade him against his convictions, but he'll not be of much service to us unless he is one with us. If he does consent freely to go on he will be as valuable as an interpreter as he has been so far as a scout and guide. I'm loath to lose his services."

Givens had by this time made his way through the armory, and was knocking on Clark's door. His recognition of me was immediate.

"Glad ter meet yer ergin, Capt'n McElroy," speaking with his usual emphatic drawl, and with hand outstretched cordially. "Couldn't resist ther temptation, yer see, uv goin' ergin ther red-skinned devils onct more 'fore ole age kitches me, en' lays me by ther heels. But ther savages's wary, sence they larn't thet last lesson we sot 'm so mighty well et Pint Pleasant. 'Tain't ther intentions, 'pears like, ter walk inter no more sich traps; besides er leader like Cornstalk's precious sildom found 'mongst 'um. They'll be mighty apt, though, ter be at ther native tricks uv skulkin' roun' en' bushwackin' en' ambushin' ef we give 'um enny chanst. Long es we keeps tergether, howsomever, en' in ther open they ain't no ways likely ter distarb us."

"This block-house is a substantial warning to them, Givens," put in Clark; "I wish we had forts all through the Ohio and Mississippi country; that would be the surest way to drive and hold back the savages."

"And now that the English are arming the Indians and using them to intimidate the border colonies, we must make a big show of strength, or all our frontier settlements will be wiped out," said I.

"Do you believe thet thar 'tale, Capt'n?" asked Givens, a flush rising to his cheeks. "'Tain't like the gallant English."

"I think there's small doubt of it, it's by King George's command and is not approved by his ministers, I understand. Governor Henry has had most positive information to that effect recently."

"If thet's so, I ain't no longer countin' myself er loyal subject," said Givens, speaking even more slowly and emphatically than usual. "Ef ther English king es capabul' uv armin' red skins, en' turnin' 'em loose on ther settlements ter murder innocent wimmen en' babies, then I'm done bein' loyal ter 'im. I'd es lief jine ther Continentals en' fight 'um wid ther rest uv yer."

Clark gave me a sly and eloquent look and, with that tact which amounted to a sixth sense with him, turned the subject at precisely the right moment. "Where's your foster son this afternoon, Givens? I haven't seen him since drill this morning."

"Oh, I got a furlough fur 'im, en' sont 'im over ter ther settlement. He ain't over strong, so I saves 'im all thet's possible. He's powerful frens uv some uv ther wimmen en' chillun down ter the settlement, en' sence he ain't so mighty strong I'm glad fur 'im ter hev ther milk en' ther eggs they meks 'im eat."

Just then Clark was called out a minute, and I took this opportunity to tell Givens about Ellen O'Niel, of her having left her home, of our long fruitless search for her, and of our finally having reached the conclusion that she had been captured and carried off by Indians; of our hope of finding her or getting some clew to her fate during this expedition, and my reliance on him to help me make enquiries among the various Indian tribes we might meet.

At first he asked me a few questions as to the time Ellen left home, her age, appearance, etc. Then he pulled his cap over his eyes, and listened silently.

"You do not think it likely the Indians have killed her?" I asked anxiously, his silence seeming ominous.

"'Taint like ther red skinned devils ter kill er handsum' young gal."

"Then do you not think we have good prospect of finding her, and will not the Indians be glad to take a big ransom for her?"

"Thar's some prospects, I reckin', en' ef we find 'er we'll git 'er," was the scout's answer, as he got up and marched off, his skin cap still pulled down over his eyes.

Once during the next two weeks, I had Givens' step-son pointed out to me; his youth, his shyness, and the scout's special watchfulness over him, seemed to have excited a good deal of interest. I, too, felt some curiosity. Givens had said nothing to me of a foster son the day I had visited him, though it is true our conversation was confined to the one topic, and there was no occasion to mention any other. Perhaps he was not then with Givens, or the form I took to be a woman's in the adjoining room was his, the swish of a woman's skirts being added by my imagination. Well, it was no concern of mine, either way, and I had enough to do and to think about.

Thomas Mitchell, who had improved greatly in health and spirits, under the influence of an outdoor, active life, and manly duties, came to me about a week after our arrival at Corn Island, and with an air of mystery led me off down the river some little distance from the camp.

"Do you know, Donald," he said almost in a whisper, "I am convinced the scout, Givens, knows something about Ellen?"

"And why do you think so?"

"I was telling him the story of her disappearance, and our vain search for her, to-day, in the hope of getting him interested, and he seemed already to know everything."

"Well," I laughed, "that is not strange. I also told him a week ago, and for the same reason."

"Oh, did you! Still that does not fully account for his manner, Donald, nor his unwillingness to continue the subject. He's got some clew, I'm sure."

Colonel Clark now detailed eighteen of the least bold of his men to remain behind at the block-house, for the protection of the settlers, and of our extra supplies. He then allowed his officers to make known that we were about to start on a further journey down the Ohio—the object and destination of which would be revealed just before the start was made. Confusion and speculation reigned in camp; boats were loaded; rifles cleaned; ramrods whittled from the hearts of hard wood saplings; a supply of bullets molded, and a lot of new moccasins and bullet pouches made, by those skilled in such work, from the skins we had collected.

At the afternoon drill hour, on the twenty-third of June, Clark presented himself, in riflemen's uniform, before his men, and was greeted with enthusiastic cheers. He gave orders to the captains that the men should form in two columns, and then swing out in double line facing him. The maneuver was executed without a hitch, and our small force presented a fine soldierly appearance. Most of the men were past early youth, either brawny pioneers or substantial freeholders, many of them being persons of some education, and considerable weight in their own communities. They were not, as some have charged, a set of mere adventurers.

The occasion and the scene were well calculated to impress one who realized their import, and as I walked back and forth to dress the line, my imagination took fire, and all the daring deeds I knew of tradition and history marshaled themselves in my memory—a long and glorious array.

"My men," spoke Colonel Clark, when all were waiting in expectant silence—"shall we press onward to a glorious enterprise—or having conducted our emigrants, and established them here in safety, shall we turn homeward without having wrought any deed worthy to be written on the page of our country's history? I can lead you on to the performance of such deed, my men—that noble friend of liberty, Patrick Henry, has sanctioned a daring enterprise, which all along, I have had in my mind, and which, if successfully executed, will bring honor and dominion to our noble commonwealth, and to each of us renown, fortune, and the gratitude of all Virginians. Not only so, but in executing this bold plan, we shall strike a telling blow for that cause we all hold dearest.

"No need, my men, to say what that cause is—the cause to which the heart of every man present, I truly believe, responds as gladly, as the tenderly nurtured infant to its mother's loving call. The cause of liberty for which each one of us would proudly shed his blood! Nor is the cause unworthy such devotion, my comrades, for 'tis not only that of our country's independence, of American liberty, of blessed freedom and rare privileges for our descendants—'tis the cause of the world's liberty, of the freedom from kingly tyranny and the right to seek happiness for all future generations of men, till time shall be no more. My brothers, future ages will look back to us and call us blessed, will offer thanks to Heaven for the brave and determined people of the new continent, who freely risked all for liberty—threw into the scales against the claims of oppressed humanity, every present good, every hope for the future. Are you willing, my men, to sacrifice still further, to risk still more for the cause? Shall I tell you more? Shall we press onward?"

"Onward! Colonel, onward!" yelled the men in wild enthusiasm—"tell us more, tell us more! Onward! Onward!"

Then Clark told them the true object of our expedition, and unfolded all his plans, which had been so well concealed, hiding from them nothing of the hardships and risks of the undertaking. Yet he dwelt long and eloquently upon the tremendous consequences of success, the glory that would be theirs, and the important results to Virginia and the cause. He added that he wanted no half hearted consent, that he far preferred that all those who were not enlisted heart and soul in the enterprise—ready to do and to dare all things,—should make their decision now. They could do so by stepping out of ranks. Seventeen men stepped out, looking sullen and ashamed of themselves.

"You are free to go," said Clark, with a contemptuous wave of the hand toward the east; then he faced the faithful again, and made them a brief speech, which set them wild, and sent them off to their booths so eager to begin our adventure that they could scarcely wait for the night to pass.

During the first part of Colonel Clark's address, I had watched Givens, close by. His face was a study of mingled interest, eagerness and doubt. When Clark gave the command that all who did not wish to follow him should step out of ranks, he started forward, hesitated, then dropped back into rank, where presently, he was cheering with the rest. When all were gone except the officers assembled around Clark, Givens came up to him.

"Colonel," he said, "I've tuck my stand by yer fur good en' all; yer may fight Injuns, ur British, ur what yer please, I'm with yer."

"Thank you, Givens," said Clark, shaking his hand heartily; "we could ill afford to lose you."

"Mebbe you'd better thank that boy uv mine. Him yer've plum bewitched, en wher' he goes, goes Givens."

That night as I wandered about the camp—it was all astir till long after midnight—I got wind of the fact that some of the deserters were lurking around trying to persuade others to sneak off with them, and went straight to Clark with the information.

"Detail a squad from your company, McElroy, and surround the camp with a close cordon of guards," said Clark, promptly.

I did so; then Clark had the drum beat, and the men called to the drill ground, where waning moon and twinkling stars gave barely light enough for them to see each other's faces.

"Silence!" commanded Clark, stilling the confusion with a word. "I understand that the cowards who deserted us this evening are in the camp attempting to stir up mutiny. It must be stopped. The deserters must leave camp immediately, or suffer the penalty of mutineers and traitors. Should any other man, except these, attempt to leave the camp he will be arrested or shot by the guards now surrounding it. You had your chance, men, and took your choice; you must now abide by your decision. To-morrow we start for Kaskaskia."