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. Jim and Willie looked around and saw Captain McCarty’s men cutting down poplar trees. “Come on, Willie,” Jim said. “Let’s see what they’re going to do with those trees.” The boys went over to help drag the poplars to a dry area where the men could build canoes. They worked all day and by evening had finished two. Meanwhile the boys saw two more drifting aimlessly on the flood waters, so they waded out and captured them. Now Colonel Clark had four canoes to ferry his army over some of this vast expanse of river. The next morning it was raining again and the water was still quite cold. Though the soldiers still had had nothing to eat, the stronger ones began ferrying the troops over to a small hill called Bubbie. From here they waded to a larger hill, clutching trees and bushes in the water to steady themselves. The canoes went alongside to watch for any sick men. Those who were able built fires on the opposite side of the river and marched the exhausted men up and down in front of the fire to revive them. At last they reached Warrior’s Island, a dry spot of about ten acres. From here Clark planned to attack Fort Sackville. The men had to rest, however, before he could order the attack. A day or two later, some of Clark’s scouts brought two Indian squaws and two half-grown boys into camp and presented them to him. “What do I want with these people?” Clark demanded. “I haven’t anything to feed to my own men, to say nothing of four prisoners.” “That’s it, sir,” one scout replied. “They had food in their canoe. It was filled with kettles, tallow, corn and half a quarter of buffalo meat. We have it here, but what shall we do with these Indians?” “Food!” cried several of the men near the colonel. “Where?” “Make some buffalo stew for the men immediately,” Clark ordered. He looked at the trembling Indians. “I guess we’ll have to take these prisoners to Vincennes with us.”