iled stacks of firewood provided for winter's use by the thrifty
Canadians; while from it stretched away another series of orchards and
fields, enclosed by stout fences. As the dark column of troops struck
the bridge, its hollow echoes rang ominously in their ears and a deadly
chill seemed to come into the air.

The advanced guard had crossed the bridge and breasted the steep ascent
to its summit. The narrow structure behind them was choked by the
passage of the main body. All were pressing eagerly forward, anxious
to gain the open ground beyond; when suddenly there arose, clear and
shrill from the blackness beside them, the terrible war-cry of Pontiac.
It was instantly answered by a burst of yells and a blaze of fire from
every wood-pile, fence, and tree, behind which the fierce Ottawa
warriors had been concealed for hours in anticipation of this moment.

Before that withering fire the advanced guard, leaving half their
number dead behind them, staggered back on the main body, and all
recoiled together. The little bridge became clogged beyond its
capacity with panic-stricken humanity, those in front striving to fly,
those in the rear endeavoring to advance, until dozens of dead,
wounded, and even of those untouched by bullet were forced over the
unrailed sides into the gloomy depths below. If at this moment an
attack had been made from the rear, not a man of Dalzell's force would
ever have regained Fort Detroit. This was what Pontiac had planned,
and, for want of allies whom he could more fully trust, he had
consigned this important duty to Mahng and his Ojibwas. Now, amid the
roar of battle, he listened with strained ears for the firing that
should denote the Ojibwa attack. But no sound came from that
direction, and the heart of the great warrior sank within him as he
realized that a vital part of his plan had miscarried.

He had scant time for reflection, however, for the brave Dalzell,
forcing his way to the front, raised his cheery voice with encouraging
shouts, rallied his bewildered men, and led them on a fierce charge up
the heights. One more crashing volley was poured into their ranks, but
it no longer came as a surprise, and mad with fury the redcoats swept
on to the summit. To their amazement, it was as deserted as though no
human being had ever trodden its soil. The place from which, a moment
before, Indian guns had flashed in their faces, was as silent as the
grave. The enemy had vanished in t