November 2, our little army, scattered for more than forty miles
along the banks of the Chaudiere River, was still dragging out its
weary way. Tents, boats, and camp supplies were all gone, except here
and there a tin camp kettle or an ax. A rifleman tells us that one
day {26} he roasted and chewed his shot pouch, and adds, "in a short
time there was not a shot pouch to be seen among all those in my
view." For four days this man had not eaten anything except a
squirrel skin, which he had picked up some days before.

Several dogs that had faithfully followed their masters were now
killed and roasted; and even their feet, skin, and entrails were
eaten. Captain Dearborn tells us how downcast he was when he was
forced to kill and eat his fine Newfoundland dog. He writes, "we even
pounded up the dog's bones and made broth for another meal."

A dozen men, who had been left behind to die, caught a stray horse
that had run away from some settlement. They shot it and ate heartily
of the flesh while they rested, and at last reached the main army.
For seven days these men had had nothing for food but roots and black
birch bark.

The Indian girl Jacataqua, with a pet dog, still followed the troops.
She proved herself of the greatest service as a guide. She knew,
also, about roots and herbs, and these she prepared in Indian fashion
for the sick and the injured. The men did not dare to kill her dog,
for she threatened to leave them to their fate if they harmed the
faithful animal.

At one place James Warner, whose wife Jemima was marching with the
troops, lagged behind, and, before his wife knew it, sank exhausted.
The faithful woman ran back alone, and stayed with him until he died.
She {27} buried him with leaves; and then, taking his musket and
girding on his cartridge belt, she hurried breathless and panting for
twenty miles, until she caught up with the troops. And as for
Sergeant Grier's good wife, she tramped and starved her way with the
men. No wonder that one writer, a boy of seventeen at the time, says,
as he saw this plucky woman wading through the rivers, "My mind was
humbled, yet astonished at the exertions of this good woman."

[Illustration: Arnold's Men marching through the Flooded Wilderness]

Where was the bold commander all this time, the man who was to lead
these sturdy riflemen to easy victory? After paddling thirteen miles
across Lake Megantic, {28} Arnold performed one of those brilliant
and reckless de