Colonel Clark now detailed eighteen of the least bold of his men to remain behind at the block-house, for the protection of the settlers, and of our extra supplies. He then allowed his officers to make known that we were about to start on a further journey down the Ohio—the object and destination of which would be revealed just before the start was made. Confusion and speculation reigned in camp; boats were loaded; rifles cleaned; ramrods whittled from the hearts of hard wood saplings; a supply of bullets molded, and a lot of new moccasins and bullet pouches made, by those skilled in such work, from the skins we had collected.
At the afternoon drill hour, on the twenty-third of June, Clark presented himself, in riflemen's uniform, before his men, and was greeted with enthusiastic cheers. He gave orders to the captains that the men should form in two columns, and then swing out in double line facing him. The maneuver was executed without a hitch, and our small force presented a fine soldierly appearance. Most of the men were past early youth, either brawny pioneers or substantial freeholders, many of them being persons of some education, and considerable weight in their own communities. They were not, as some have charged, a set of mere adventurers.
The occasion and the scene were well calculated to impress one who realized their import, and as I walked back and forth to dress the line, my imagination took fire, and all the daring deeds I knew of tradition and history marshaled themselves in my memory—a long and glorious array.
"My men," spoke Colonel Clark, when all were waiting in expectant silence—"shall we press onward to a glorious enterprise—or having conducted our emigrants, and established them here in safety, shall we turn homeward without having wrought any deed worthy to be written on the page of our country's history? I can lead you on to the performance of such deed, my men—that noble friend of liberty, Patrick Henry, has sanctioned a daring enterprise, which all along, I have had in my mind, and which, if successfully executed, will bring honor and dominion to our noble commonwealth, and to each of us renown, fortune, and the gratitude of all Virginians. Not only so, but in executing this bold plan, we shall strike a telling blow for that cause we all hold dearest.
"No need, my men, to say what that cause is—the cause to which the heart of every man present, I truly believe, responds as gladly, as the tenderly nurtured infant to its mother's loving call. The cause of liberty for which each one of us would proudly shed his blood! Nor is the cause unworthy such devotion, my comrades, for 'tis not only that of our country's independence, of American liberty, of blessed freedom and rare privileges for our descendants—'tis the cause of the world's liberty, of the freedom from kingly tyranny and the right to seek happiness for all future generations of men, till time shall be no more. My brothers, future ages will look back to us and call us blessed, will offer thanks to Heaven for the brave and determined people of the new continent, who freely risked all for liberty—threw into the scales against the claims of oppressed humanity, every present good, every hope for the future. Are you willing, my men, to sacrifice still further, to risk still more for the cause? Shall I tell you more? Shall we press onward?"
"Onward! Colonel, onward!" yelled the men in wild enthusiasm—"tell us more, tell us more! Onward! Onward!"
Then Clark told them the true object of our expedition, and unfolded all his plans, which had been so well concealed, hiding from them nothing of the hardships and risks of the undertaking. Yet he dwelt long and eloquently upon the tremendous consequences of success, the glory that would be theirs, and the important results to Virginia and the cause. He added that he wanted no half hearted consent, that he far preferred that all those who were not enlisted heart and soul in the enterprise—ready to do and to dare all things,—should make their decision now. They could do so by stepping out of ranks. Seventeen men stepped out, looking sullen and ashamed of themselves.
"You are free to go," said Clark, with a contemptuous wave of the hand toward the east; then he faced the faithful again, and made them a brief speech, which set them wild, and sent them off to their booths so eager to begin our adventure that they could scarcely wait for the night to pass.
During the first part of Colonel Clark's address, I had watched Givens, close by. His face was a study of mingled interest, eagerness and doubt. When Clark gave the command that all who did not wish to follow him should step out of ranks, he started forward, hesitated, then dropped back into rank, where presently, he was cheering with the rest. When all were gone except the officers assembled around Clark, Givens came up to him.
"Colonel," he said, "I've tuck my stand by yer fur good en' all; yer may fight Injuns, ur British, ur what yer please, I'm with yer."