It was enough to daunt the heart of many a brave man, but Henry Ware was not appalled.  His primeval instincts had risen to the surface again.  He saw the grandeur of it rather than the weirdness and danger.  Like Long Jim, though less outspoken, he had been troubled by the intrigue, the shiftiness, and the false seeming of New Orleans, and now his spirit replied to the battle of the elements.  He was the most active man in the fleet.  His quick hand and eye and powerful arm kept one canoe loaded with medical stores, which had in them the saving of many lives, from going to the bottom.  The harder the wind blew and the rougher the waves grew the higher his spirit rose to meet them.

“Look!” he shouted to Adam Colfax, as they approached the shore, “an opening!  See it?  I think it’s a bayou, and if we go up that we’ll be safe!”

Henry was right.  Its mouth almost hidden by trees, the deep, still bayou opened out before them, and ran its narrow length far back into the land.  One could not conceive a better anchorage for the small boats such as constituted their fleet.  The men, when they saw it, gave a hearty cheer that rose above the wind.  Hardy as they were, fear had entered most of them.

The leading boats passed into the bayou, and all the others, many struggling hard with wind, current, and waves, followed them.  The change was immediate.  They came into quarters comparatively still, but there was a new danger.  A tree, snapped through its mighty trunk by the hurricane, fell across the bayou directly in front of them.  It was lucky that no canoe was in its way.

“Out, men, with axes!” shouted Adam Colfax, and a dozen leaped to obey his command.  The tree was quickly cut apart and a score more dragged the two halves up to the banks, leaving a passage once more for the fleet.  This was repeated further on, and now they began to look anxiously for more open country.  Only good fortune had saved them so far.

The bayou ran on narrow and deep, and they pulled and paddled with all their might, until at last they came to a place that was fringed only by high bushes.  The forest on either side was two or three hundred yards away, and Adam Colfax, despite his stern New Hampshire nature, did not repress a cry of joy.  Here they were safe, alike from the Mississippi and the forest.

“Tie up!” he shouted, and the boats were soon fastened to the bushes in parallel rows on either side of the bayou.  Then they hurried to make shelter for themselves.  The supplies were already covered.  The skies were now at the darkest, a solid circle of heavy black clouds.  The lightning and thunder alike ceased, and then, borne on the swift wind, came a mighty rain.  It was so heavy, so steady, and so searching that they were put to their utmost labor and ingenuity to keep their precious cargo dry.

“If the rain were not so tremendously heavy I would look through the forest to see if any enemies were about,” said Henry to the leader.