Without food, which there was no prospect of getting, collapse was sure to come.
Standing nearly waist-deep in freezing water and looking out upon the muddy, sea-like flood that stretched far away to the channel of the Wabash and beyond, Clark turned to Beverley and said, speaking low, so as not to be overheard by any other of his officers or men: "Is it possible, Lieutenant Beverley, that we are to fail, with Vincennes almost in sight of us ?" "No, sir, it is not possible," was the firm reply.

"Nothing must, nothing can stop us.

Look at that brave child! He sets the heroic example." Beverley pointed, as he spoke, at a boy but fourteen years old, who was using his drum as a float to bear him up while he courageously swam beside the men.
Clark's clouded face cleared once more.

"You are right," he said, "come on! we must win or die." "Sergeant Dewit," he added, turning to an enormously tall and athletic man near by, "take that little drummer and his drum on your shoulder and lead the way.

And, sergeant, make him pound that drum like the devil beating tan-bark!" The huge man caught the spirit of his commander's order.