This
information confirmed his belief that it would be possible not
only to capture Vincennes, but Detroit as well.
Just seven days after the march began, the little army encamped
for a night's rest at the edge of a wood; and here, just after
nightfall, when the fires were burning merrily and the smell of
broiling buffalo steaks burdened the damp air, a wizzened old man
suddenly appeared, how or from where nobody had observed He was
dirty and in every way disreputable in appearance, looking like an
animated mummy, bearing a long rifle on his shoulder, and walking
with the somewhat halting activity of a very old, yet vivacious
and energetic simian. Of course it was Oncle Jason, "Oncle Jazon
sui generis," as Father Beret had dubbed him.
"Well, here I am!" he cried, approaching the fire by which Colonel
Clark and some of his officers were cooking supper, "but ye can't
guess in a mile o' who I am to save yer livers and lights."
He danced a few stiff steps, which made the water gush out of his
tattered moccasins, then doffed his nondescript cap and nodded his
scalpless head in salutation to the commander.
Clark looked inquiringly at him, while the old fellow grimaced and
rubbed his shrunken chin.
"I smelt yer fat a fryin' somepin like a mile away, an' it set my
in'ards to grumblin' for a snack; so I jes thought I'd drap in on
ye an' chaw wittles wi' ye.
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