chooner.

When, in the darkness of a moonless night, they saw the great boat
sailing steadily up the narrow channel they paddled silently toward her,
dark specks on the breast of the dark, shining river. Nearer and nearer
they pressed. All was silent on the vessel. Surely no one had taken
alarm. Not a shot and they had reached the boat; they were clambering
like rats up its bulky sides--when lo! a sharp hammering on the mast
head, a flash of muskets in the dark, a cry of defeat and rage above the
din of battle! Cannon boomed; canoes flew high into the air; bullets did
their work.

For fourteen Indians the long struggle against the palefaces was over.
The rest scurried to the shore as best they could, some paddling, some
swimming. Once there, they took shelter behind some temporary
earthworks, and opened such a fierce fire on the schooner that it was
forced to drop down stream to a broader part of the river. For several
days they delayed the ship, but at length she sailed boldly past, and
was but little injured by the fire.

Pontiac was sorely vexed that the ship had succeeded in reaching the
garrison. He and his people looked upon the boats with almost
superstitious horror. Their dislike was not lessened when one day the
smaller schooner made her way against wind and current up to Pontiac's
village, and there sent shot and shell roaring through the frail
dwellings.

Though no loss of life resulted, the Indians were greatly alarmed.
Pontiac moved his camp to a safer place and then turned his attention to
destroying the ships. Early in July he made his first attempt.

Two large boats filled with birch bark and pitch pine were tied together
and set on fire. They were then cut loose and left to float down stream.
Keenly the Indians watched; keenly, the English. Would the fireboats go
close enough? the first wondered with bated breath. Would they come too
close? questioned the British. Woe on the one hand, joy on the other!
the space between the ships and the flaming craft widens--the fireboats
float harmlessly down the river. A second and a third attempt to burn
the boats failed. Fortune seemed to favor the English.

Pontiac began to despair of taking Detroit unaided. He called a council
of the French. He reminded them that the English were their enemies as
well as his. He charged them with helping the English and told them that
the time had come for them to choose sides and fight with him or against
him. He then off