along the Scioto; the Miamis, on the Wabash and the Maumee. The Illinois, once numerous and powerful, had, through intemperance, become scattered and degraded. Along the Detroit and near Sandusky were the Wyandots, whose industry and good husbandry had placed them foremost among the western tribes in civilization and progress.

Albany, New York, was the largest town on the frontier. Traders and others, journeying to the region of the lakes, made this their startingpoint. Ascending the Mohawk to Fort Stanwix, they would pass overland to Wood Creek, follow the windings of this stream to Oneida Lake, and crossing its western extremity, descend the river Oswego to the town of that name on the banks of Lake Ontario.

From Philadelphia the route to the Indian country was over the Alleghanies, then descending their western slope to the valley of the Ohio. At the close of the war adventurous traders, transporting their goods on the backs of horses, regardless of the perils that beset them, pushed on over the mountains. They were a bold, rough set, and went well armed. Their wares consisted of blankets and red cloth, guns and hatchets, liquor, tobacco, paint, beads, hawksbills, etc.

In Southern Illinois were to be seen the old French outposts, Kaskaskia, Cahokia, and Vincennes. Farther up the Wabash was Fort Ouantenon,

whence a trail through the forest led to Fort Miami on the Maumee. Descending the Maumee to Lake Erie, one would have Sandusky on the right, or, farther north, through the Strait of Detroit, would pass Fort Detroit to the northern lakes. Farther east, beyond the Alleghanies, were Forts Presque Isle, Le Boeuf, and Venango.

The conquered French inhabitants did all they could to influence the resentment of the Indians, and as they were being constantly pushed from their lands by an increased tide of English immigration, little was wanting to bring on another bloody Indian war. That little was soon supplied.

Early in 1763 the red men were told that the King of France had given all their country to the King of England. Furious at this outrage, a plot of vast proportions was at once matured. The destruction of all the English forts and garrisons was to take place on a given day; the defenceless frontier settlements were to be swept away, and finally, as they hoped and believed, the English would all be driven into the sea. This has been, by a misuse of words, called a conspiracy; in reality it was a patriotic, though hopeless, effort on the part of the natives to free their country from a hated invader, and to avert the impending doom of the race.

The leader in this great uprising was Pontiac, head chief of the Ottawas, then in his fiftieth year. With the Ottawas were confederated the kindred tribes of Ojibwas and Potawatomies. Pontiac possessed great courage, eloquence, and energy, more than ordinary mental powers, and was unmatched for craft and subtlety. He was of middle height, with a figure of remarkable symmetry. His complexion was unusually dark, and his features, though void of regularity, were expressive of boldness and vigor, which, united with an habitually imperious and peremptory manner, were sufficiently indicative of unusual strength of will. To these qualities, combined with the passions, the fierceness, and treachery of his race, was added a powerful ambition, and he had acquired great influence over the western tribes. He had fought on the French side during the war, and was said to have led the Ottawas at Braddock's defeat.

November 7.

In 1760 Major Rogers, with his Rangers, was sent to Detroit to replace the French with an English garrison. On nearing that post he was met by an embassy from Pontiac-"lord and ruler of all that country”—and directed to proceed no farther until the arrival of the chief himself. Pontiac soon appeared.

"What is your business in my country, and how dare you enter it without my permission?" was the haughty demand with which he greeted the Ranger.

Rogers told him his errand. Pontiac listened with attention, and with savage dignity exclaimed,

"I stand in the path!"

On the following day, however, the chief re-appeared, and made a conciliatory speech; the pipe of peace was smoked, and harmony was apparently established. "I had several conferences with him," says Rogers, "in which he discovered great strength of judgment and a thirst after knowledge. He puts

on an air of majesty and princely grandeur, and is greatly honored and revered by his subjects."

Pontiac was too sagacious to believe that the English could be driven into the sea. His plan was to bring back the French, as a check to British encroachments. This idea had been held up to him by the Canadians, who told him that the armies of the French king, destined for the recovery of Canada, were already on the way. Acting upon this idea, he sent ambassadors, bearing the war-belt of wampum and the reddened tomahawk,

in token of war, to the different tribes. Those of the west accepted his message and pledged themselves to take part in the war. With the exception of the Senecas, the Iroquois confederacy was kept neutral by the strenuous exertions of Sir William Johnson. Up to the very moment of the outbreak the Indians succeeded in concealing their design. They continued, meanwhile, to hang around the posts, "begging, as usual, for tobacco, gunpowder, and whiskey."

Detroit, near which were the villages of the Wyandots, Potawatomies, and Ottawas, was founded by the French as an Indian trading - post in 1701, and had at this time two thousand five hundred French inhabitants, dwelling on productive farms on both sides of the river. The fort was in the centre of the settlement, on the western margin of the river, and contained about one hundred houses, surrounded by a palisade twenty-five feet high and about one thousand two hundred yards in circumference; a wooden bastion stood at each corner, and each gate-way was protected by a block-house. It was garrisoned by about one hundred and twenty soldiers, and about forty fur-traders and employés. Some small pieces of cannon were mounted on the bastions, and two small armed schooners lay anchored opposite the town.

On the night of May 6, 1763, Major Gladwyn, the commander of the fort, received secret intelligence that an attempt would be made the next day to capture the fort by treachery. The guard was weak, the defences feeble and extensive. Fearing an immediate attack, Gladwyn doubled his sentinels, and kept an anxious watch all that night.

Next morning Pontiac, with sixty chosen warriors, each of whom was armed with a gun cut short so that it was hidden under his blanket, entered the fort. His plan was to demand a council, and, after delivering his speech, to offer a peace-belt of wampum. This belt was worked on one side with white and on the other with green beads. The reversal of the belt from the white to the green side was to be the signal of attack. Every Englishman was to be killed, but not a Frenchman was to be touched. The plan was well laid, and might have succeeded had it not been revealed to Gladwyn.

The savage throng, plumed and feathered, and besmeared with paint, had no sooner entered the fort than they saw that their plot had failed. Soldiers and employés were armed and ready for action. Pontiac and his warriors, however, moved on, betraying no sign of surprise, and entered the council-room, where Gladwyn and his officers, all well armed, awaited them.

* Parkman, "Conspiracy of Pontiac," i. 188.

brave, but this decisive proof that his plot was discovered completely dis