noon
It is no small thing . '' Seeing him relapse into silence , I did not speak . For the space of half an hour he stared down the river , and I knew that he was looking vainly for the Willing . At noon we crossed , piecemeal , a deep lake in the canoes , and marching awhile came to a timber-covered rise which our French prisoners named as the Warriors ' Island . And from the shelter of its trees we saw the steely lines of a score of low ponds , and over the tops of as many ridges a huddle of brown houses on the higher ground . And this was the place we had all but sold our lives to behold ! This was Vincennes at last !