It was indeed a fine fleet of canoes and boats to be propelled by paddle, oar, and sail, and it bore a most precious cargo. Eight of the larger boats carried a twelve pound brass cannon apiece to be used if need be on the way, but destined for that far-distant and struggling army in the northeast. Stored in the other boats and canoes were five hundred muskets, mostly from France, barrels of powder, scores of bars of lead, precious medicines worth their weight in gold, blankets, cloth for uniforms and underclothing. It was the most valuable cargo ever started up the Mississippi and there were many strong and brave men to guard it. "We carry things both to kill and to cure," said Paul. "An' we're goin', too!" said Long Jim, heaving again that mighty sigh of relief. "That's the big thing!" They started the next day at the appointed time. Henry, Paul, and Long Jim were In one of the leading boats, and Tom Ross and Shif'less Sol were in another near them. The population of New Orleans was on the levee to see them go, and some wished them good luck and many wished them bad. The majority of the French were for them, and the majority of the Spanish against them. But the five, now that the time was at hand, felt only elation. The breeze blew strong and fresh over the mighty river that came from their beloved-forests and vast unknown regions beyond. They seemed to feel in it some of the tang and sparkle of the north. "Good-bye, New Orleans," said Jim Hart, waving a long hand on a long arm; "I'm glad I've seed you, I'm glad I've laid my weary head to rest inside your walls fur a few nights, but I'm glad I don't stay in you, nor in any other town. Good-bye." One of the brass cannon fired a salute, cannon on the fort and the galleon, Dona Isabel, replied. Adam Colfax gave the word, and at the same instant hundreds of oars and paddles dipped into the muddy current of the Mississippi. The great supply fleet leaped forward as if it were one whole, and soon New Orleans and its intrigues sank under the curve behind them. Henry and Paul, although they did not have to work, pulled at the oars with the others, and more than one man noticed how the mighty muscles of Henry Ware's arm swelled and bunched as he made the boat leap forward. But they did not maintain their high rate of speed long. As the rivers ran it was a good two thousand miles to Fort Pitt, and they did not wish to exhaust themselves on the first twenty. Long Jim at last let his oar rest and patted Paul joyfully on the shoulder. "Ain't you noticed nothin', Paul?" he asked. "I've noticed a lot of river, and a fine little fleet on it." "But somethin' better than that. Look at the trees, Paul, all along on either side, an' not a house in sight, an' not a human bein' 'cept ourselves, not a single trail uv smoke to dirty the sky. Nothin' but the woods ez God made 'em. I tell you, Paul, it's pow'ful fine jest to live!"