At that the men retired. "Who commands at Kaskaskia?" he demanded of
Duff.

"Monseer Rocheblave, a Frenchy holding a British commission," said Duff.
"And the British Governor Abbott has left Post St. Vincent and gone to
Detroit. Who be you?" he added suspiciously. "Be you Rebels?"

"Colonel Clark is my name, and I am in the service of the Commonwealth of
Virginia."

Duff uttered an exclamatory oath and his manner changed. "Be you Clark?"
he said with respect. "And you're going after Kaskasky? Wal, the mility
is prime, and the Injun scouts is keeping a good lookout. But, Colonel,
I'll tell ye something: the Frenchies is etarnal afeard of the Long
Knives. My God! they've got the notion that if you ketch 'em you'll burn
and scalp 'em same as the Red Sticks."

"Good," was all that Clark answered.

"I reckon I don't know much about what the Rebels is fighting for," said
John Duff; "but I like your looks, Colonel, and wharever you're going
there'll be a fight. Me and my boys would kinder like to go along."

Clark did not answer at once, but looked John Duff and his men over
carefully.

"Will you take the oath of allegiance to Virginia and the Continental
Congress?" he asked at length.

"I reckon it won't pizen us," said John Duff.

"Hold up your hands," said Clark, and they took the oath. "Now, my men,"
said he, "you will be assigned to companies. Does any one among you know
the old French trail from Massacre to Kaskaskia?"

"Why," exclaimed John Duff, "why, Johnny Saunders here can tread it in
the dark like the road to the grogshop."

John Saunders, loose limbed, grinning sheepishly, shuffled forward, and
Clark shot a dozen questions at him one after another. Yes, the trail
had been blazed the Lord knew how long ago by the French, and given up
when they left Massacre.

"Look you," said Clark to him, "I am not a man to stand trifling. If
there is any deception in this, you will be shot without mercy."

"And good riddance," said John Duff. "Boys, we're Rebels now. Steer
clear of the Ha'r Buyer."

CHAPTER XIII

KASKASKIA

For one more day we floated downward on the face of the waters between
the forest walls of the wilderness, and at length we landed in a little
gully on the north shore of the river, and there we hid our boats.

"Davy," said Colonel Clark, "let's walk about a bit. Tell me where you
learned to be so silent?"

"My father did not like to be talked to," I answered, "except when he was