run. And when they came within hail it was
Saunders' voice we heard, shouting brokenly:--

"I've struck it, Colonel, I've struck the trace. There's a pecan at the
edge of the bottom with my own blaze on it."

"May you never be as near death again," said the Colonel, grimly, as he
gave the order to march.

The fourth day passed, and we left behind us the patches of forest and
came into the open prairie,--as far as the eye could reach a long, level
sea of waving green. The scanty provisions ran out, hunger was added to
the pangs of thirst and weariness, and here and there in the straggling
file discontent smouldered and angry undertone was heard. Kaskaskia was
somewhere to the west and north; but how far? Clark had misled them. And
in addition it were foolish to believe that the garrison had not been
warned. English soldiers and French militia and Indian allies stood
ready for our reception. Of such was the talk as we lay down in the
grass under the stars on the fifth night. For in the rank and file an
empty stomach is not hopeful.

The next morning we took up our march silently with the dawn, the
prairie grouse whirring ahead of us. At last, as afternoon drew on, a
dark line of green edged the prairie to the westward, and our spirits
rose. From mouth to mouth ran the word that these were the woods which
fringed the bluff above Kaskaskia itself. We pressed ahead, and the
destiny of the new Republic for which we had fought made us walk unseen.
Excitement keyed us high; we reached the shade, plunged into it, and
presently came out staring at the bastioned corners of a fort which rose
from the centre of a clearing. It had once defended the place, but now
stood abandoned and dismantled. Beyond it, at the edge of the bluff, we
halted, astonished. The sun was falling in the west, and below us was
the goal for the sight of which we had suffered so much. At our feet,
across the wooded bottom, was the Kaskaskia River, and beyond, the
peaceful little French village with its low houses and orchards and
gardens colored by the touch of the evening light. In the centre of it
stood a stone church with its belfry; but our searching eyes alighted on
the spot to the southward of it, near the river. There stood a rambling
stone building with the shingles of its roof weathered black, and all
around it a palisade of pointed sticks thrust in the ground, and with a
pair of gates and watch-towers. Drooping on its staff was the standard
of E