He intended to have the canoes ferry them over the deepest part, but before they came to it one of the men felt that his feet were in a path, and by carefully following it they got to a sugar camp, a hillock covered with maples, which once had been tapped for sugar.

Here they camped for the night, still six miles from the town, without food, and drenched through.

The prisoners from Vincennes, sullen and weary, insisted that they could not possibly get to the town through the deep water; the prospect seemed almost hopeless even to the iron-willed, steel-sinewed backwoodsmen [Footnote: Bowman ends his entry for the day with: "No provisions yet.

Lord help us!"]; but their leader never lost courage for a moment.
That night was bitterly cold, for there was a heavy frost, and the ice formed half an inch thick round the edges and in the smooth water.

But the sun rose bright and glorious, and Clark, in burning words, told his stiffened, famished, half-frozen followers that the evening would surely see them at the goal of their hopes.