n went about with a cheerful face, but a heavy heart.
Provisions were fast melting away. It seemed scarcely possible that the
garrison would be able to hold out till the expected supplies arrived.
He decided to send one of the schooners to meet the provision boats, to
warn them of the hostility of the Indians and urge them to all speed.

They could ill spare any of the garrison, but food must be had. So, on a
bright spring morning one of the vessels weighed anchor and started for
the East. Before she left the Detroit River the wind died and her sails
hung limp.

As the boat lay helplessly drifting with the current a hundred canoes
darted out from the shore. In the foremost one the Indians had bound
their prisoner, Captain Campbell. The British saw, and were afraid to
fire lest they should shoot their countryman. Noticing their
hesitation, the brave old man called out: "Don't think of me. Do your
duty and fire." The man at the cannon still paused. A breeze stirred,
swelled the canvas, and the schooner flew like a great gull over the
blue waters far out of reach of the canoes.

After the boat left, a gloom settled upon the little garrison at
Detroit. With two boats in the harbor flight had seemed possible. Now
that one of them had gone, all felt that the siege meant victory or
death. The daily allowance of food grew smaller. The men became
exhausted with ceaseless watching. All hope was fixed on the expected
reinforcements.

On the thirteenth of May the sentinel announced that the long looked for
convoy was in sight. The good news spread rapidly. Soon the entire
population of the village was hurrying to the gate that led to the
river.

The hungry, haggard-looking men that crowded the wharf sent up cheer
after cheer as the boats approached with flags flying. Days of rest and
plenty seemed theirs again. Here were comrades to share their vigils.
Here was food to satisfy their hunger.

As the boats drew nearer, the cheers died in throats hoarse with horror.
No answering shout came from the boats. The English at the oars were not
their own masters. The long expected supplies had fallen into the hands
of the Indians. The men to whom the garrison had looked for help were
the prisoners of the enemy.

Two Englishmen escaped from their guards and succeeded in reaching the
fort where they told their story: Ninety men had started with large
stores of food and ammunition, early in the spring to reinforce Detroit.
Meeting the