Inside of ten minutes, three companies of mounted riflemen stood by their horses’ heads, silent and obedient, and when Bowman rode into the ford, there was not a single straggler left behind.
The little adjutant crossed in his canoe, and on the further bank they found three more companies, drawn up in front of their camp, all silent and orderly, and anxiously expecting the news, about to be promulgated, of the destination of the expedition.
Colonel Clark was the only mounted man on the island, and he rode up, and greeted his allies with great courtesy.
“You will go into camp at the other end of the island, captain,” he said, to Bowman. “There are too many of the enemy’s Indians about, to trust a camp on shore to their annoyances. Go into camp, dismount your men, and be ready for dress parade at sunset. I will then announce the orders.”
There was an evident disposition, among the rough borderers of Harrod’s and Dillard’s companies, to grumble at this order, but Clark checked it in a manner that showed his knowledge of frontier nature. Riding down the column, he called out:
“What, gentlemen, have we a lot of curious old women in the ranks? If so, please to ride home. I want nothing but brave men, where I am going. For shame! Don’t you know me well enough to know that George Clark has a meaning for whatever he says? Forward, gentlemen, and obey orders like men!”
In a moment a dead silence fell on the three companies, and the camp was formed with marvelous expedition and order.
An hour after that, at the call of the bugle, six hundred men were under arms in a hollow square, and the backwoods leader addressed them, amid intense anxiety from all to hear the news.