ngland. North and south of the village the emerald common gleamed in
the slanting light, speckled red and white and black by grazing cattle.
Here and there, in untidy brown patches, were Indian settlements, and
far away to the westward the tawny Father of Waters gleamed through the
cottonwoods.

Through the waning day the men lay resting under the trees, talking in
undertones. Some cleaned their rifles, and others lost themselves in
conjectures of the attack. But Clark himself, tireless, stood with
folded arms gazing at the scene below, and the sunlight on his face
illumined him (to the lad standing at his side) as the servant of
destiny. At length, at eventide, the sweet-toned bell of the little
cathedral rang to vespers,--a gentle message of peace to war. Colonel
Clark looked into my upturned face.

"Davy, do you know what day this is?" he asked.

"No, sir," I answered.

"Two years have gone since the bells pealed for the birth of a new
nation--your nation, Davy, and mine--the nation that is to be the refuge
of the oppressed of this earth--the nation which is to be made of all
peoples, out of all time. And this land for which you and I shall fight
to-night will belong to it, and the lands beyond," he pointed to the
west, "until the sun sets on the sea again." He put his hand on my head.
"You will remember this when I am dead and gone," he said.

I was silent, awed by the power of his words.

Darkness fell, and still we waited, impatient for the order. And when at
last it came the men bustled hither and thither to find their commands,
and we picked our way on the unseen road that led down the bluff, our
hearts thumping. The lights of the village twinkled at our feet, and
now and then a voice from below was caught and borne upward to us. Once
another noise startled us, followed by an exclamation, "Donnerblitzen"
and a volley of low curses from the company. Poor Swein Poulsson had
loosed a stone, which had taken a reverberating flight riverward.

We reached the bottom, and the long file turned and hurried silently
northward, searching for a crossing. I try to recall my feelings as I
trotted beside the tall forms that loomed above me in the night. The
sense of protection they gave me stripped me of fear, and I was not
troubled with that. My thoughts were chiefly on Polly Ann and the child
we had left in the fort now so far to the south of us, and in my fancy
I saw her cheerful, ever helpful to those around her, des