"we have come so far by audacity, and we must continue by
audacity. It is of no use to wait for the gunboat, and every moment
we run the risk of discovery. I shall write an open letter to the
inhabitants of Vincennes, which the prisoner shall take into town. I
shall tell them that those who are true to the oath they swore to Father
Gibault shall not be molested if they remain quietly in their houses.
Let those who are on the side of the Hair Buyer General and his King go
to the fort and fight there."

He bade me fetch the portfolio he carried, and with numbed fingers wrote
the letter while his captains stared in admiration and amazement. What
a stroke was this! There were six hundred men in the town and
fort,--soldiers, inhabitants, and Indians,--while we had but 170,
starved and weakened by their incredible march. But Clark was not to
be daunted. Whipping out his field-glasses, he took a stand on a little
mound under the trees and followed the fast-galloping messenger across
the plain; saw him enter the town; saw the stir in the streets, knots of
men riding out and gazing, hands on foreheads, towards the place where
we were. But, as the minutes rolled into hours, there was no further
alarm. No gun, no beat to quarters or bugle-call from Fort Sackville.
What could it mean?

Clark's next move was an enigma, for he set the men to cutting and
trimming tall sapling poles. To these were tied (how reverently!) the
twenty stands of colors which loving Creole hands had stitched. The
boisterous day was reddening to its close as the Colonel lined his
little army in front of the wood, and we covered the space of four
thousand. For the men were twenty feet apart and every tenth carried a
standard. Suddenly we were aghast as the full meaning of the inspiration
dawned upon us. The command was given, and we started on our march
toward Vincennes. But not straight,--zigzagging, always keeping the
ridges between us and the town, and to the watching inhabitants it
seemed as if thousands were coming to crush them. Night fell, the colors
were furled and the saplings dropped, and we pressed into serried
ranks and marched straight over hill and dale for the lights that were
beginning to twinkle ahead of us.

We halted once more, a quarter of a mile away. Clark himself had picked
fourteen men to go under Lieutenant Bayley through the town and take the
fort from the other side. Here was audacity with a vengeance. You may
be sure that Tom and