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 reenforced. 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."