“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 I saw 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.  I slipped the piece into my own hunting shirt.

All day the men who were too weak to swing axes sat listless on the bank, watching in vain for some sight of the Willing.  They saw a canoe rounding the bend instead, with a single occupant paddling madly.  And who should this be but Captain Willing’s own brother, escaped from the fort, where he had been a prisoner.  He told us that a man named Maisonville, with a party of Indians, was in pursuit of him, and the next piece of news he had was in the way of raising our despair a little.  Governor Hamilton’s astonishment at seeing this force here and now would be as great as his own.  Governor Hamilton had said, indeed, that only a navy could take Vincennes this year.  Unfortunately, Mr. Willing brought no food.  Next in order came five Frenchmen, trapped