arrison. The outward voyage down Lake Erie was safely and pleasantly
accomplished. But these vast American lakes are subject to sudden and
violent storms, and on the return trip, during an exceptionally fierce
squall, the little 40-ton sloop, heavily laden as she was with military
stores, sprang a leak, and to save themselves the crew were forced to
run her aground on a gravelly beach under the lee of a projecting
headland. The situation at best was most critical, for if the wind
should shift but a few points the sloop must inevitably break up; and
not only was the one boat available a mere skiff incapable of living in
a heavy sea, but even should they all succeed in safely getting ashore
with muskets intact and ammunition dry, their position would still be in
the last degree precarious. For well they knew in what manner of country
they were about to set unwilling foot--forest land occupied by the
fiercest and most treacherous of the hostile Indian tribes. Capture
meant death, probably with torture to precede it.

With great difficulty and some danger the ship-wrecked crew did at
length succeed in getting ashore, with their rifles and a fair supply of
powder and lead, and without an instant's delay they set about building
a rude breastwork for protection if matters should come to a fight. The
stranded vessel must certainly have been already seen by the Indians; at
any moment they might appear. But the breastwork was completed without
interruption, and still no sign of the Redskins had been seen. It was at
least breathing space, though all knew what must assuredly follow, and
to some the actual immediate combat would have been less unwelcome than
was now the suspense.

After consultation, a few of the party, including Kerr, whose knowledge
of Indian ways it was thought might be useful, left the breastwork to
spy on the enemy--or at least to try to pick up some knowledge of their
whereabouts. Had it been into that enchanted land that they now
entered, where lay the Sleeping Beauty, the forest shades could not have
been more still, more apparently devoid of life. No breath of wind
stirred leaf or bough, all nature breathed peace, and, lulled to a sense
of security, the little party ventured farther among the trees than was
prudent. In Indian warfare, appearances were ever deceitful; the greater
the apparent security, the greater the need for caution. So it was now
here.

"I guess it ain't all right," one man was saying;