Gladwyn replied to his
speech sternly, but kindly, saying that he would have
the protection and friendship of the British so long as
he merited it. A few presents were then distributed among
the Indians, and the council ended. The chiefs, with
their blankets still tightly wrapped about them, filed
out of the council-room and scattered to their villages,
followed by the disappointed rabble of fully three hundred
Indians, who had assembled in the fort.
On the morrow, Pontiac, accompanied by three chiefs,
again appeared at the fort, bringing with him a pipe of
peace. When this had been smoked by the officers and
chiefs, he presented it to Captain Campbell, as a further
mark of friendship. The next day he was once more at the
gates seeking entrance. But he found them closed: Gladwyn
felt that the time had come to take no chances. This
morning a rabble of Potawatomis, Ottawas, Wyandots, and
Chippewas thronged the common just out of musket range.
On Pontiac's request for a conference with Gladwyn he
was sternly told that he might enter alone. The answer
angered him, and he strode back to his followers. Now,
with yells and war-whoops, parties of the savages bounded
away on a murderous mission. Half a mile behind the fort
an English woman, Mrs Turnbull, and her two sons cultivated
a small farm.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52