Willie’s courageous antics turned the trick for Colonel Clark. While Willie played and sang at the top of his lungs, the rest of the soldiers waded into the water and did not turn back, though in some places the water came up to their chins. But no dry spot could be found, so they had to spend the night in shallow water without food.
Somehow they continued to march through the ice-cold drowned lands until they had crossed the Embarrass and Wabash Rivers. Here the men in their soaking wet clothes were more discouraged than ever. This was the place where the Willing was supposed to be waiting for them. The warship, however, had not arrived.
The next day the camp awakened to a dull boom.
“What’s that?” Willie cried, poking Jim who lay beside him.
“I don’t know,” Jim mumbled. “Sounded like guns, didn’t it?”
One soldier overheard the boys and said, “Colonel Clark said those were the British morning guns at Fort Sackville.”
“Why, we’re almost there,” Jim cried, jumping up and stretching.
“Almost there!” sneered another soldier. “Take a look at that water.”
“Where are we?” Willie asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“About nine miles below Vincennes on the banks of the Great Wabash!” a nearby soldier exclaimed. “But how we’ll ever get across that flood water I don’t know.” Several more men began to complain, and some even muttered about going home.