ld
almost see, staring us in the face, and the labors of the spring lost
again. There was bitter talk within the gates that night, and many
declared angrily that Colonel Clark had abandoned us. But I remembered
what he had said, and had faith in him.

It was that very night, too, I sat with Cowan, who had duty in one of
the sentry boxes, and we heard a voice calling softly under us. Fearing
treachery, Cowan cried out for a sign. Then the answer came back loudly
to open to a runner with a message from Colonel Clark to Captain Harrod.
Cowan let the man in, while I ran for the captain, and in five minutes
it seemed as if every man and woman and child in the fort were awake and
crowding around the man by the gates, their eager faces reddened by
the smoking pine knots. Where was Clark? What had he been doing? Had he
deserted them?

"Deserted ye!" cried the runner, and swore a great oath. Wasn't Clark
even then on the Ohio raising a great army with authority from the
Commonwealth of Virginia to rid them of the red scourge? And would they
desert him? Or would they be men and bring from Harrodstown the company
he asked for? Then Captain Harrod read the letter asking him to raise
the company, and before day had dawned they were ready for the word to
march--ready to leave cabin and clearing, and wife and child, trusting
in Clark's judgment for time and place. Never were volunteers mustered
more quickly than in that cool April night by the gates of Harrodstown
Station.

"And we'll fetch Davy along, for luck," cried Cowan, catching sight of
me beside him.

"Sure we'll be wanting a dhrummer b'y," said McCann.

And so they enrolled me.

CHAPTER XII. THE CAMPAIGN BEGINS

"Davy, take care of my Tom," cried Polly Ann.

I can see her now, standing among the women by the great hewn gateposts,
with little Tom in her arms, holding him out to us as we filed by. And
the vision of his little, round face haunted Tom and me for many weary
miles of our tramp through the wilderness. I have often thought since
that that march of the volunteer company to join Clark at the Falls of
the Ohio was a superb example of confidence in one man, and scarce to be
equalled in history.

In less than a week we of Captain Harrod's little company stood on a
forest-clad bank, gazing spellbound at the troubled waters of a mighty
river. That river was the Ohio, and it divided us from the strange north
country whence the savages came. From below, the an