emselves that they won't think about our takin' the job from 'em."

They returned with their news, and at midnight the white army started
forth on its great but hazardous attempt. The night was fairly clear,
with a good moon and many stars, and the departure from the fort was in
silence, save for the sobbing of the women and children over those whom
they might never see again.

It was a formidable little army that issued from the southern gate of
the fort, the one away from the river, perhaps the strongest that had
yet been gathered in the west, and composed of many diverse elements,
the Kentuckians who had been Kentuckians only a year or two, the wild
hunters of Boone and Kenton, the rivermen, a few New Englanders, French
and Spanish creoles, and men from different parts of Europe. It was a
picturesque group without much semblance of military discipline, but
with great skill, courage, and willingness in forest warfare.

Every man carried a long-barreled rifle, and they were armed in addition
with pistols, tomahawks, and knives. The cannon were left behind as too
unwieldy for their purpose. Adam Colfax, Major Braithwaite, Gregory
Wilmot, Thrale, Lyon, Cole, Drouillard, and the other lieutenants were
at the head of the little army, and Boone, Kenton, the five, and at
least fifteen more were in advance or on the flanks as scouts and
skirmishers. The five, as usual, were close together.

The army marched southward about a half mile, and then, turning, marched
parallel with the river about two miles, in order to hide their
movements from lurking Indian scouts. The fleet, meanwhile, dropped down
the Ohio, clinging closely to the shadows of the western shore.

The five were rather grave as they walked ahead of the army, examining
every tree and bush for sign of a foe. None knew better than they the
dangers to which they were about to be exposed, and none knew better
than they the wilderness greatness of Timmendiquas.

"A lazy man always hez the most trouble," said Shif'less Sol in a
whisper to the others. "Mebbe ef he wuzn't so lazy he'd be lively 'nough
to git out o' the way o' trouble. I'm always takin' good resolutions,
resolvin' to mind my own business, which ain't large, an' which wouldn't
take much time, an' never keepin' 'em. I might be five hundred miles
from here, trappin' beaver an' peacefully takin' the lives of buffalo,
without much risk to my own, but here I am, trampin' through the woods
in the night an' ki