“Gentlemen of Kentucky and Virginia,” began the colonel, “for six long years have we striven on the dark and bloody ground to keep a foothold on the inheritance we are earning for our children. For three years of that time, our whole land has been fighting against fearful odds on the side of the unnatural mother country. Not content with hiring Hessians to come over and murder us, they have bribed the savages to fire our houses and scalp women and children, from Cherry Valley to Harrodsburg.”

Here there was a growl of assent, “That’s so.” “Cuss ’em.” “We’ll get square, some day.”

“Soldiers,” continued Clark, addressing them by the title he knew they were most proud of, “the time has come when we must turn the tables on the British. Saratoga has shown them that we can beat their best troops, and all along the Atlantic States they are running like whipped hounds!”

A tremendous yell greeted the reference.

“Now,” cried the colonel, “since we are safe on the east, let us turn to the west. The Indians have tormented us long enough. We chase them, and ’tis like attacking a swarm of wasps. We can not catch them. Well, boys, what do you do when the wasps get too troublesome?”

He paused, as if to await a reply. There was an awkward silence for near a minute. Then Daniel Boone, who stood near Clark, and out of the ranks, observed in his clear, quiet tones:

“We hunt for the nest, and burn it up, some night, colonel.”

“Right, old comrade!” exclaimed the young leader, amid a whispered chorus of excited comments; “we find the nest, and burn it up. Well, gentlemen, these wasps come not from one nest, but three: and their names are Detroit, St.[48] Vincent’s,[2] and Kaskaskia. Detroit is a fortified town, beyond our reach. St. Vincent’s is too strong for us as yet. Kaskaskia, the furthest of all, is the most dangerous to Kentucky. Secure in their distance from us, the British think they need fear nothing. Gentlemen, I have orders from Governor Henry of Virginia to take Kaskaskia and save Kentucky forever. Who will volunteer to go with me, and strangle the snake in his den?”

There was a deep silence following this speech, at the end of which Captain Harrod stepped forward and made a characteristic speech:

“Colonel George Rogers Clark, Esquire: Sir, I’ve be’n a-grumblin’ a long time about these hyar secret orders, and, I reckon, be’n makin’ a darned jackmule of myself about it. Colonel, I take it all back, and damme, sir, I’ll lift the ha’r off any feller as says you ain’t a full team and two mules to spar’, with a yaller dawg hitched under the tail-board. I’m with you, colonel, while thar’s a drop of blood in my body, and these hyar Harrodsburg hu’sters, they travel with me, you kin bet all the clothes you ever owned. Thar!”

A rousing cheer from Harrod’s company applauded the speech, and it was followed by equally warm indorsement from every captain and company, with one exception.

This was captain Dillard, whose company was raised near Harrod’s, and entertained considerable jealousy of the others.

Captain Dillard, when questioned point-blank by Clark, before the rest, replied:

“Waal, colonel, ef I’d knowed you war a-goin’ on any sich a wild-goose chase as this hyar, I wouldn’t have pledged my credit to the boys, and asked ’em to come. You’re a-goin’ a long way, and it’s more than likely you’ll git beat. Ef so, whar are ye? Worse off than ever, a thousand miles from hum, and no one to help ye?”

The cautious captain’s words were not without their effect[49] in damping the men’s spirits, and it was with great adroitness that Clark replied, in closing the discussion:

“That’s all provided for, captain. We have bateaux enough to carry us all down the Mississippi to New Orleans, where the Spanish and French will be only too glad to pay us like princes to fight the Indians for them. But we shall not get beat. We shall take them by surprise, kill the British s............