gee returning to set
her free for the present, as he had seen the soldiers at the gate
and knew that she was safe.

CHAPTER XVIII.

"This is my glove--by this hand I will take thee a box on the ear."
--_Henry V._

The following morning was as bright and glorious as an August sun
could render it, but its very brilliancy seemed a mockery to the
gloom and despair that filled the hearts of the little garrison.
Still, notwithstanding the treachery few were ignorant the Indians
intended, there was a bearing among all, from the commanding officer
down, that, while attesting determination and confidence in
themselves, left no ground for a suspicion that the designs of
their treacherous allies had been revealed.

The guard was mounted, as usual, and the customary formalities of
the military service complied with, and arrangements were made,
soon after the men had eaten their breakfasts, for the conveyance
of the stores to the glacis.

At twelve o'clock all was ready, and the mass of Indian warriors,
painted and armed, moved in loose and disorganized bodies across
the plain, and grouped around their chiefs, who, seated on the
ground, received for the young men the presents which had been set
apart in divisions for every ten. The cloths, blankets, trinkets,
and provisions, were first handed over, but when on coming to the
ammunition and liquor only one cask of each was, found, the
indignation of the whole band, the chiefs excepted, was, as had
been expected, excessive.

"My Father promised us plenty of powder and plenty of liquor,"
exclaimed Pee-to-tum, stamping with his feet and gesticulating
violently; "Where is it?"

"This is all that is left of the stores," exclaimed Capt. Headley.
"When we reach Fort Wayne you shall have more."

"My Father lies," returned the Chippewa. "Pee-to-tum did not sleep
like a lazy hound in his tent last night; he crawled near the
fort; he heard the powder barrels knocked in with axes; he heard
the rum poured into the river like water. Even to-day," and he
pointed with his clenched tomahawk, "the river is red with liquor
till it is 'strong grog.' What should prevent us from avenging
ourselves for this cheat, by mixing the blood of our father with
the same water till it looks like strong rum also?" A terrific yell
burst from the surrounding warriors, who all brandished their
tomahawks in a menacing manner.

"What should prevent you?" said Capt. Headley, suddenly carried
ou