re within the Vincennes fort, thin and bronzed
and travel-stained, were the men who had dared the wilderness in ugliest
mood. And yet none by himself would have done it--each had come here
compelled by a spirit stronger than his own, by a master mind that
laughed at the body and its ailments.

Colonel George Rogers Clark stood in the centre of the square, under
the flag to whose renown he had added three stars. Straight he was, and
square, and self-contained. No weakening tremor of exultation softened
his face as he looked upon the men by whose endurance he had been able
to do this thing. He waited until the white smoke of the last gun had
drifted away on the breeze, until the snapping of the flag and the
distant village sounds alone broke the stillness.

"We have not suffered all things for a reward," he said, "but because
a righteous cause may grow. And though our names may be forgotten,
our deeds will be remembered. We have conquered a vast land that our
children and our children's children may be freed from tyranny, and we
have brought a just vengeance upon our enemies. I thank you, one and
all, in the name of the Continental Congress and of that Commonwealth
of Virginia for which you have fought. You are no longer Virginians,
Kentuckians, Kaskaskians, and Cahokians--you are Americans."

He paused, and we were silent. Though his words moved us strongly, they
were beyond us.

"I mention no deeds of heroism, of unselfishness, of lives saved at the
peril of others. But I am the debtor of every man here for the years to
come to see that he and his family have justice from the Commonwealth
and the nation."

Again he stopped, and it seemed to us watching that he smiled a little.

"I shall name one," he said, "one who never lagged, who never
complained, who starved that the weak might be fed and walk. David
Ritchie, come here."

I trembled, my teeth chattered as the water had never made them chatter.
I believe I should have fallen but for Tom, who reached out from the
ranks. I stumbled forward in a daze to where the Colonel stood, and the
cheering from the ranks was a thing beyond me. The Colonel's hand on my
head brought me to my senses.

"David Ritchie," he said, "I give you publicly the thanks of the
regiment. The parade is dismissed."

The next thing I knew I was on Cowan's shoulders, and he was tearing
round and round the fort with two companies at his heels.

"The divil," said Terence McCann, "he dhrummed