The Sacs were such clumsy
people in canoes that I did not dare trust them on the water, so we
arranged to make a detour to the west and reach the rendezvous by land.
It was a terrible journey. We had to make on foot nearly double the
distance that the other tribes would make by canoe, so we gave
ourselves no rest. The trail led by morass and fallen timber, and it
was the season of stinging gnats and breathless days. The Sacs were
always filthy in camp or journeying, and I turned coward at the food I
was obliged to eat. But I did not dare leave them and trust them to
come alone. They were a fierce, sullen people, unstable as hyenas, but
they were terrible in war. I had won some power over them, and they
followed me with the eyes of snarling dogs. But they would not have
gone a mile without my hand to beckon.
So through filth and gnats, heat, toil, and lack of food, I followed
Ambition.
CHAPTER XXX
THE MEANING OP CONQUEST
When I stumbled along the bank of the little stream that marked our
rendezvous, I was mud-splashed, torn, and insect-poisoned, and I led a
brutish set of ruffians. Yet I heard a muffled cheer roar out as I
came into view. The Winnebagoes were in camp and in waiting.
Pages:
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376