area of the fort. Here he beheld with horror, in shapes the foulest and most terrible, the ferocious triumphs of the savages. The dead were scalped and mangled; the dying were writhing and shrieking under the unsatiated knife and the reeking tomahawk; and from the bodies of some ripped open, their butchers were drinking the blood, scooped up in the hollow of joined hands, and quaffed amid shouts of rage and victory. In a few minutes, which seemed to Henry scarcely one, every victim who could be found, being destroyed, there was a general cry of "all is finished;" and at this moment, Henry heard some of the savages enter Langlade's house. He trembled and grew faint with fear. As the floor consisted only of a single layer of boards, he overheard everything that passed. The Indians inquired on entering, if there were any Englishmen about. M.. Langlade replied, that he could not say he did not know of any-as in fact he did not"they could search for themselves, and be satisfied." The state of Henry's mind may be imagined, when immediately upon this reply, the Indians were brought to the garret door. Luckily some delay was occasioned through the management of the Pani woman-she had locked the door, and perhaps it was by the absence of the key. Henry had sufficient presence of mind to improve these few moments in looking for a hiding-place. This he found in the corner of the garret, among a heap of such birch bark vessels as are used in making maple sugar; and he had not completely concealed himself when the door opened, and four Indians entered, all armed with tomahawks, and all besmeared with blood from head to foot. The die appeared to be cast. Henry could scarcely breathe, and he thought that the throbbing of his heart occasioned a noise loud. enough to betray him. The Indians walked about the garret in every direction; and one of them approached him so closely, that at one moment, had he put forth his hand, he must have touched him. Favored, however, by the dark color of his clothes, and the want of light in the room, which had no window, he still remained unseen. The Indians took several turns about the room-entertaining M. Langlade all the while with a minute account of the proceedings of the day; and at last returned down stairs. There was at the time a mat in the room, and Henry fell asleep; and he was finally awakened by the wife of Langlade, who had gone up to stop a hole in the roof. She was surprised to see him thereremarked that the Indians had killed most of the English, but that he might hope to escape. He lay there during the night." At length the wife of Langlade informed the Indians of Henry's concealment, fearing, as she subsequently alleged, that if they should find him secreted in her house, they would destroy her and her children. Unlocking the door, she was followed by half a dozen savages, naked down to their waist, and intoxicated. On entering, their chief, Wenniway, a ferocious savage, of gigantic stature, advanced with lips compressed, seized Henry by one hand, and with the other held a large carving-knife, as if to plunge it into his heart, while his eyes were steadfastly fixed on his. Gazing for a moment, he dropped his arm and said, "I won't kill you." He then at once adopted him in the place of a brother whom he had lost in the wars with the English, and Henry was eventually ransomed. Seventy of the troops were massacred, and of these the bodies of several were boiled and eaten. The remainder, together with those taken at the fall of forts St. Joseph and Green Bay, were restored after the war. Siege of Detroit.-Detroit was a more important situation even than Michilimackinac. Beside, an immense quantity of valuable goods to the amount, it is stated, of over two millions of dollars, was known to be stored there. If captured, it would unite the hitherto separate lines of operation pursued by the Indian tribes above and below. Under these circumstances its reduction was undertaken by Pontiac in person. The garrison numbered one hundred and thirty, including officers, beside whom there were something like forty individuals in the village engaged in the fur trade. Such was the situation of Detroit when the Ottawa chieftain having completed his arrangements, on the 8th of May, presented himself at the gates of the town with a force of about three hundred Indians, chiefly Ottawas and Chippewas, and requested a council with Major Gladwyn, the commandant. He expected, under this pretext, to gain admittance for himself and a considerable number of attendants, who accordingly were provided with rifles sawed off so short as to be concealed under their blankets. At a given signal, which was to be the presentation of a wampum belt in a particular manner by Pontiac to the commandant during the conference, the armed Indians were to massacre all the officers, then open the gates to admit the main body of the warriors, who were to be waiting without for the completion of the slaughter and destruction of the fort. An Indian woman betrayed the secret. She had been employed by the commandant to make him a pair of moccasins out of elk skin, and brought them into the fort finished on the evening of the day on which Pontiac made his appearance and application for a council. The major paid her generously, requested her to make more from the residue of the skin, and then dismissed her. She went to the outer door, but there stopped and loitered about as if her errand was still unperformed. A servant asked her what she wanted, but she made no answer. The major himself observed her and ordered her to be called in, when, after some hesitation, she replied to his inquiries, that as he had always treated her kindly, she did not like to take away the elk skin which he valued so highly-she could never bring it back. The commandant's curiosity was, of course, excited, and he pressed the examination THE PONTIAC WAR. 69 area of the fort. Here he beheld with horror, in shapes the foulest As the floor consisted only of a single layer of bands, be over- blood from head to foot. e die appeared to be cast. Henry could scarce r h to betray him. The Indians walked ab direction; and one of them approached him Favored, however, by the dark color of his c moment, had he put forth his hand, he must a light in the room, which had no window, he M. Laziale all the while with a minute a The Indians took several turns about the Es of the day; and at last returned dow Ele time a mat in the room, and Henry fea ly awakened by the wife of Langlade, w Bile in the rot. She was surprised to as the In Hans had killed most of the Engi there during t informed the quently a 3 le id by ance er of very ulf of avana rida to the loss remainret from 8 They were a highly intellectual people, compared to most of the aborigines. They possessed fine fruit and corn fields; and their towns were generally fenced in. Beside the great natural strength of their position, their numerical force was large, for they had no less than sixty-four towns and villages, and were able, in an emergency, to send six thousand warriors into the field. In 1756, the English sent deputies among the Cherokees to secure their aid against the French. A council was convened and likely to terminate favorably, when tidings suddenly came that a party of their nation, who had visited the French on the Ohio, were massacred by some Virginians, on their return home. Immediately the council was in an uproar, and it was not without the greatest exertions on the part of their renowned chief, Attakulla, that the deputies were saved from immediate death. Great excitement succeeded this provocation. The older part of the nation remained calm, and Attakulla and Oconostota, or the Great Warrior, were both against the war; but the French emissaries instigated the younger warriors to take the field; parties of whom involved the frontiers in horrid devastation and massacre. Governor Lyttleton, of South Carolina, summoned the militia to meet at the Congarees to commence active hostilities. No sooner did the Cherokees hear of this movement, than they sent thirtytwo of their chiefs, among whom was Great Warrior, to settle all differences at Charleston. Conference ensued, and the governor made a long speech of accusation, which he concluded by saying the chiefs must follow his troops, or he would not be answerable for their safety. Oconostota gravely rose to reply, but the governor forbade him to proceed: "he would hear no talk in vindication of the orator's countrymen, nor any proposals with regard to peace, but was determined to proceed with his expedition.' The Great Warrior and his brother deputies were indignant; with hearts open for peace they were grossly insulted. Nay, more, they were forcibly obliged to accompany the governor to the Congarees, where were collected one thousand four hundred men; and when the expedition started on its march, a guard was placed over them to prevent their escape. On reaching Fort George, which stood on the Isundiga River, about three hundred miles from Charleston, on the borders of the Cherokee country, the chiefs were placed in close confinement. As his troops were becoming discontented and mutinous, the governor dared not advance any farther, and sent for Attakulla, the steady friend of the English, and the wisest man of the nation. He obeyed the summons, and a conference took place on the 17th of December, 1759. The governor declared his readiness for peace but on the condition that twenty-four of the Cherokees should be delivered up to be put to death, or otherwise disposed of at option, as an atonement for that number of Carolinians massacred in the late foray of the savages. These terms were accepted; but as soon as they were known the mass of the Cherokees fled to the mountains, and the number of hostages could only be secured by detaining twenty-two of the chiefs already in custody. No sooner had the governor disbanded his forces than the Cherokees determined to violate a treaty so unjustly extorted, sounded the warhoop, killed fourteen whites within a mile of Fort George. This was followed up by a stratagem by which Oconostota, who had been released, aimed to take possession of the fort. Pretending to have something of importance to communicate to the commander, he dispatched a woman who had usually obtained access to the station to solicit an interview with the commandant on the bank of the river. Cotymore imprudently assented, and accompanied by two officers, walked down to the river; from the opposite side of which Oconostota addressed him. While they spoke, the Indian waved a bridle over his head as a signal to his ambushed warriors. They fired; Coty more fell dead, and his companions were wounded. But the Cherokees failed to get possession of the fort. Suspecting a concerted movement among the hostages, by which they would co-operate with the assailing foe without, the officers in the fort gave orders to secure them with irons. The Indians resisted with arms, and stabbing three of the soldiers, so exasperated the rest, already excited by the murder of their captain, that they fell upon the miserable captives, and butchered them to a man. There were but few men in the Cherokee nation that did not lose a friend or relation in this massacre. All, with one voice, cried for war: "the spirits of their murdered brothers were hovering around them, and calling out for vengeance on their enemies." Large parties rushed down upon the defenseless frontiers of Carolina, and men, women, and children fell a prey to their merciless fury. Some, who escaped the scalping-knife, starved to death in the forests; others, borne into captivity, suffered incredible hardships. Every day brought fresh accounts of their ravages and murders. Great alarm prevailed throughout the Carolinas, and troops were raised for the protection of the frontiers, and with the others, General Amherst sent twelve companies of British regulars to the theater of hostilities. In May, 1760, the campaign commenced with a rapid invasion of the Cherokee territory; considerable ravages were speedily made; Estatoe and Keowee, the latter containing two hundred houses, were burnt; the army then marched to the relief of Fort George. And now the war grew fervid. Saloueh and Fiftoe had sworn vengeance over the ashes of their homes, and the soul of the Great Warrior was hot within him. The invaders were suffered to pursue their hazardous and difficult march, through dark thickets and deep defiles, and over mountains, rivers, and swamps, until within five miles of Etch:oe. Here was a low valley covered so thick with bushes that the soldiers could scarcely see three yards before them. The army was obliged to pass through it, and that in such a |