The next day the soldiers marched for nine hours, then pitched camp in a square on the driest ground they could find, putting their baggage in the center.
As they continued through succeeding days they marched sometimes through water up to their armpits. They had to hold rifles and powder high above their heads to keep them dry.
In desperation Clark and his officers dismounted and piled the baggage on their horses. The animals struggled along through the water with the men.
If any men happened to see any wild game, Colonel Clark gave them time to shoot it. Now and then they bagged a deer and on the twelfth of February they sighted a herd of buffalo.
“Here, Willie,” Jim called, “take my drum and give me your rifle. Maybe I can get a buffalo.”
Willie handed over the rifle, as Jim noticed with satisfaction it was exactly like his father’s. He dashed out with two soldiers to shoot one of the buffalos. He went as close as he dared to the herd, took careful aim and fired. His buffalo dropped immediately as did several others which the men shot. In a few minutes they had dragged the buffaloes over toward the fires.
“Good boy, Jim,” Willie said, clapping him on the back excitedly. “We’ll eat plenty tonight.”
Clark’s army did eat a good meal and had entertainment afterward. Willie and Jim sang many of the songs they had learned together, and took turns playing the drum. Willie also danced a strange mixture of French and Indian dances until he was exhausted.
That evening the two boys helped boost the morale of Clark’s army more than anyone else save the colonel himself. Colonel Clark was quick to give them credit. “We could never have made it this far, boys,” he said, “without your music and dancing.”