"Just five mouthfuls apiece, even, and I'll have Hamilton and his fort within forty-eight hours." "We will have the provisions, Colonel, or I will die trying to get them," Beverley responded "Depend upon me." They had constructed some canoes in which to transport the weakest of the men.
"I will take a dugout and some picked fellows.

We will pull to the wood yonder, and there we shall find some kind of game which has been forced to shelter from the high water." It was a cheerful view of a forlorn hope.

Clark grasped the hand extended by Beverley and they looked encouragement into each other's eyes.
Oncle Jazon volunteered to go in the pirogue.

He was ready for anything, everything.
"I can't shoot wo'th a cent," he whined, as they took their places in the cranky pirogue; "but I might jes' happen to kill a squir'l or a elephant or somepin 'nother." "Very well," shouted Clark in a loud, cheerful voice, when they had paddled away to a considerable distance, "bring the meat to the woods on the hill yonder," pointing to a distant island-like ridge far beyond the creeping flood.

"We'll be there ready to eat it!" He said this for the ears of his men.