FORT DETROIT IS REINFORCED
From the very first the two tribes of Wyandots and Pottawattamies had
been but lukewarm allies of the Ottawas in the prosecution of this war.
Their chiefs were jealous of Pontiac and yielded obedience to his
orders rather through fear than from any real loyalty to his cause.
Still, so long as his plans were successful, his arms victorious, and
his appeared to be the winning side, they were content to follow his
leadership. No sooner, however, did the tide of fortune turn against
him with the failure of his attempt to capture the schooner, than these
tribes sent a deputation of chiefs to Gladwyn with proposals for peace.
This was granted them and the treaty was consummated by a general
exchange of prisoners.
It was owing to Pontiac's distrust of these allies, to whom had been
intrusted the attack on Cuyler's expedition, that he had secretly sent
Ah-mo and Atoka to provide for the safety of Edith Hester, rightly
thinking that they could act more effectively than a larger party and
at the same time attract less notice. How they succeeded in conveying
their charge to an island on which was maintained a picket of Ottawa
warriors, has already been told.
This picket post was a source of grievance to the Wyandots, who,
dwelling nearest the mouth of the river, claimed that they alone were
entitled to occupy that territory and guard its approaches. After
their victory over Cuyler, they protested so loudly against the
continuation of the Ottawa outpost on their island, that Pontiac
reluctantly ordered it to be withdrawn, and the captives who were held
there to be brought to his own village.
Thus it happened that to these Indians was left the entire guarding of
the southern approaches to Detroit; and when, at the end of July, a
strong detachment of troops in twenty-two bateaux, under command of
Captain Dalzell, appeared at the mouth of the river, they having just
concluded their treaty of peace, allowed it to pass up unmolested. The
flotilla came up at night; and at sunrise, as the sea of fog covering
the vicinity of Detroit began to roll away in fleecy masses, its
foremost boats were discovered by a sentinel, who at once announced the
joyful intelligence. As before, the beleaguered garrison hastened to
the water front in anxious expectancy. Were the approaching boats
indeed filled with friends come to their relief, or, as in the former
case, with victorious savages and dejected captives? Not until the
questioning salute of their guns was answered by the glad roar of a
swivel from the foremost boat was the query answered, and the
apprehensions of the war-worn garrison changed to a joyous certainty.
All at once their rejoicings were silenced by a double sheet of fire
that leaped from both banks of the river at once. A hail of bullets
was poured into the crowded boats from among the buildings and orchards
of the French farmers, and many a red-coated soldier fell beneath the
fire of a foe whom he could neither see nor reach.
Pontiac had been warned at last of this new danger, and had sent his
trusty Ottawas, leaping like deer, down the river banks with a faint
hope that the approaching convoy might still be cut off. But they were
too late, and though their fire was very destructive while it lasted,
the boats pressed steadily on and in a few minutes more had gained the
shelter of the fort.
The newly arrived detachment--three hundred strong--was composed of
troops from the 50th and 80th regiments of the line, and twenty of
Rogers' hardy rangers. As boat after boat swept up to the strand and
landed its men they were received with wild cheers, frantic embraces,
and every manifestation of overwhelming joy. The new-comers, sturdy,
well-fed, and perfectly equipped, presented a striking contrast to the
gaunt, hollow-cheeked troops clad in tatters, who had held the fort so
long and so bravely. As the former moved steadily up the narrow street
in a long line of glittering scarlet, while drum and fife waked cheery
echoes from the silent houses, the latter felt that the day of their
deliverance had indeed come, and well repaid for all their toil.
Dalzell's boats brought many things besides men, guns, and ammunition.
It brought provisions, letters, and news from the great far-away world.
It brought a confirmation of the treaty, recently signed between
England and France, which set at rest all fears that Pontiac might
receive French aid in his present struggle. It also brought a number
of dainties for the officers' mess, such as had been unknown to its
table for many months. So Gladwyn gave a dinner that night to which
every officer in the fort was bidden.
When the appointed time arrived and Majors Gladwyn and Rogers; Captains
Dalzell, Grant, and Gray; Lieutenants Cuyler, Hay, and Brown, and half
a dozen more, all in speckless uniforms, were assembled about the
homely but well-laden mess-table, there entered still another at whom
the newcomers gazed in surprise but without recognition. He was a
little man dressed in the costume of the backwoods, a belted buckskin
shirt, leggings, and moccasins, and a coonskin cap. He hesitated, as
though from shyness, as he glanced irresolutely about him. Then
Gladwyn, stepping quickly forward, took him by the hand, exclaiming:--
"You are just in time, my dear fellow, though I had begun to fear that
you were not going to join us. Here are a lot of old friends waiting
to greet and congratulate you."
"Are they?" asked the stranger, dubiously.
"By Jove!" laughed Gladwyn, "I don't believe one of them recognizes
you. Gentlemen, permit me the honor of introducing one of the heroes
of this present war, Paymaster Leonidas Bullen."
Whereupon there arose such a shout from that mess-room as startled the
distant sentries on the outer walls. "Bullen, old man, forgive me."
"It can't be!" "Incredible!" "Bullen, the Beau Brummel of the
service, in leather!" "Why, Diogenes, what are you doing here?" "Is
it a masquerade?" "Is it a joke?" "What means this unique headgear?"
"And Diogenes, I say, where is the tub?"
"Gentlemen," replied the paymaster, "it is no joke, but a stern
reality. As my only choice of a dinner dress lay between a suit of
paint and this costume, out of consideration for your prejudices I
chose this. My head-gear may be unique, but it is at least warm and it
is also the only covering I can at present bestow upon my baldness. It
is true I might have worn feathers, but unfortunately feathers suggest
to me only very recent and unpleasant associations. As for my tub, I
shall consider it a personal favor, gentlemen, if you will never again
mention that unfortunate article in my presence."
"He came very near being boiled alive in it," whispered Gladwyn to
Captain Dalzell.
"What?"
"Yes, like a prawn or a crayfish."
"By Jove! How?"
Then Gladwyn related the history of the paymaster's recent experiences
and bravery so effectively that the poor little man became rosy with
confusion, and when at the conclusion of the narrative his health was
pledged with a round of cheers, he could only stammer in reply:--
"I thank you, gentlemen, from the bottom of my heart. I also thank the
major for his kindly effort to convert me into a hero. I fear, though,
that he is only trying to make amends for threatening to shoot me when
I first made application for his hospitality."
"Shoot you, old man! You don't mean it. What for? Had you challenged
him? Tell us about it."
"It is only too true," confessed Major Gladwyn, "and but for the timely
interference of Madam Rothsay I fear I should have succeeded to my
everlasting sorrow."
When this had been explained, and Madam Rothsay's health had been
pledged, Captain Dalzell inquired what had become of Miss Hester, who,
he understood, had accompanied the elder lady on her western trip.
"I am sorry to say," replied Gladwyn, "that she is held prisoner by
Pontiac in company with her father the major, and Ensign Hester her
brother. He was with Bullen, you know, and sacrificed himself to warn
the schooner _Gladwyn_ of her danger the other night. It was a fine
thing to do, and I would gladly give up the schooner, valuable as she
is to me, if by so doing he could be restored to us. Madam Rothsay was
also held prisoner by the redskins until it fortunately occurred to
them to offer her in exchange for a villanous Ojibwa chief, whom we
happened to have on hand. Of course I was only too glad to make the
exchange, and wish I had a dozen more like him to offer for the
Hesters."
"By Jove!" cried Captain Dalzell, "it is horrible to think of the grand
old major and his lovely daughter, and that fine son of his, all in the
power of those devils. Can't we do something toward their rescue,
Gladwyn? Surely we are strong enough now to take the offensive. I
should be only too happy to lead a night attack on Pontiac's camp. We
could make it a complete surprise, and my fellows are simply spoiling
for a fight. It does seem as though the time to strike a decisive blow
had come, and every day that we postpone it only increases the peril of
the Hesters. What do you say, major? Won't you consider the
proposition seriously?"
So the dinner party was turned into a council of war, and, before it
broke up, an attack on Pontiac's camp had been arranged for the
following night.