hip to
the British, thought the opportunity too good to be lost.
In passing their villages the barges were assailed by a
musketry fire, which killed two and wounded thirteen of
Dalyell's men. But the soldiers, with muskets and swivels,
replied to the attack, and put the Indians to flight.
Then the barges drew up before the fort to the welcome
of the anxious watchers of Detroit.

The reinforcement was composed of men of the 55th and
8th regiments, and of twenty Rangers under Major Robert
Rogers. Like their commander, Dalyell, many of them were
experienced in Indian fighting and were eager to be at
Pontiac and his warriors. Dalyell thought that Pontiac
might be taken by surprise, and urged on Gladwyn the
advisability of an immediate advance. To this Gladwyn
was averse; but Dalyell was insistent, and won his point.
By the following night all was in readiness. At two
o'clock in the morning of the 31st the river gate was
thrown open and about two hundred and fifty men filed out.

Heavy clouds hid both moon and stars, and the air was
oppressively hot. The soldiers marched along the dusty
road, guided by Baby and St Martin, who had volunteered
for the work. Not a sound save their own dull tramp broke
the silence. On their right gleamed the calm river, and
keeping pace with them were two large bateaux armed with
swivels. Presently, as the troops passed the farm-houses,
drowsy watch-dogs caught the sound of marching feet and
barked furiously. Pontiac's camp, however, was still far
away; this barking would not alarm the Indians. But the
soldiers did not know that they had been betrayed by a
spy of Pontiac's within the fort, nor did they suspect
that snake-like eyes were even then watching their advance.

At length Parent's Creek was reached, where a narrow
wooden bridge spanned the stream a few yards from its
mouth. The advance-guard were half-way over the bridge,
and the main body crowding after them, when, from a black
ridge in front, the crackle of musketry arose, and half
the advance-guard fell. The narrow stream ran red with
their blood, and ever after this night it was known as
Bloody Run. On the high ground to the north of the creek
a barricade of cordwood had been erected, and behind this
and behind barns and houses and fences, and in the
corn-fields and orchards, Indians were firing and yelling
like demons. The troops recoiled, but Dalyell rallied
them; again they crowded to the bridge. There was another
volle