learn if the forest
bordering the river above the falls was free from Indians,
and, as the bateaux were slowly making their way against
the swift stream towards Lake Erie, they were savagely
attacked from the western bank by Indians in such force
that Wilkins was compelled to retreat to Fort Schlosser.
It was not until November that another attempt was made
to send troops and provisions to Detroit. Early in this
month Wilkins once more set out from Fort Schlosser, this
time with forty-six bateaux heavily laden with troops,
provisions, and ammunition. While they were in Lake Erie
there arose one of the sudden storms so prevalent on the
Great Lakes in autumn. Instead of creeping along the
shore, the bateaux were in mid-lake, and before a landing
could be made the gale was on them in all its fury. There
was a wild race for land; but the choppy, turbulent sea
beat upon the boats, of which some were swamped and the
crews plunged into the chilly waters. They were opposite
a forbidding shore, called by Wilkins Long Beach, but
there was no time to look for a harbour. An attempt was
made to land, with disastrous results. In all sixteen
boats were sunk; three officers, four sergeants, and
sixty-three privates were drowned. The thirty bateaux
brought ashore were in a sinking condition; half the
provisions were lost and the remainder water-soaked. The
journey to Detroit was out of the question. The few
provisions saved would not last the remnant of Wilkins's
own soldiers for a month, and the ammunition was almost
entirely lost. Even if they succeeded in arriving safely
at Detroit, they would only be an added burden to Gladwyn;
and so, sick at heart from failure and the loss of
comrades, the survivors beat their way back to the Niagara.

A week or two later a messenger arrived at Fort Detroit
bearing news of the disaster. The scarcity of provisions
at Detroit was such that Gladwyn decided to reduce his
garrison. Keeping about two hundred men in the fort, he
sent the rest to Niagara. Then the force remaining at
Detroit braced themselves to endure a hard, lonely winter.
Theirs was not a pleasant lot. Never was garrison duty
enjoyable during winter in the northern parts of North
America, but in previous winters at Detroit the friendly
intercourse between the soldiers and the settlers had made
the season not unbearable. Now, so many of the French had
been sympathizers with the besieging Indians, and, indeed,
active in aiding the