"
It was a cheerful view of a forlorn hope. Clark grasped the hand
extended by Beverley and they looked encouragement into each
other's eyes.
Oncle Jazon volunteered to go in the pirogue. He was ready for
anything, everything.
"I can't shoot wo'th a cent," he whined, as they took their places
in the cranky pirogue; "but I might jes' happen to kill a squir'l
or a elephant or somepin 'nother."
"Very well," shouted Clark in a loud, cheerful voice, when they
had paddled away to a considerable distance, "bring the meat to
the woods on the hill yonder," pointing to a distant island-like
ridge far beyond the creeping flood. "We'll be there ready to eat
it!"
He said this for the ears of his men. They heard and answered with
a straggling but determined chorus of approval. They crossed the
rolling current of the Wabash by a tedious process of ferrying,
and at last found themselves once more wading in back-water up to
their armpits, breaking ice an inch thick as they went. It was the
closing struggle to reach the high wooded lands. Many of them fell
exhausted; but their stronger comrades lifted them, holding their
heads above water, and dragged them on.
Clark, always leading, always inspiring, was first to set foot on
dry land. He shouted triumphantly, waved his sword, and then fell
to helping the men out of the freezing flood.
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