THE STORY OF PONTIAC.

There was once a little Indian boy whose home was on the shores of a beautiful lake in the midst of a deep forest. He was the son of a powerful chief, and from his earliest years looked forward to the time when he too should be a great warrior, like his father, and lead his tribe in successful battle against his enemies. For although his quiet home was far away from great cities, and most of the neighboring tribes were friendly, yet some of the noise and stir and trouble of the great outside world had crept even to that distant woodland home; and the children there early learned that they must grow up brave and daring men, and ready to defend their homes if need be. This boy Pontiac was always a leader among his companions in all games of daring and skill. He it was who led them into the forests in their hunt after wild, and ferocious animals, or by the courses of distant streams in search of rare flowers and stones, or along the shores of the lakes, where the startled birds made vain efforts to fly beyond his aim—for Pontiac's arrow was always swift and sure—and who carried home at night the largest part of the day's spoils, whether they were fishing in the lake, or hunting in the forest, or searching for the glittering minerals that were scattered over the land.

And the years that he spent in childish sports were also spent in learning many useful things, and by the time he was a well-grown boy he knew every inch of the forests for miles and miles around, and all the winding streams that came down from the hill-country, and every curve and bay in the great lakes that lay not far distant from his home. Although he was a very daring and active boy, sometimes he was very thoughtful too, and he would often leave his companions and hide away in the branches of some great tree, or in some sheltered nook by the lake, and sit alone for hours thinking. At such times he was often sad, for his thoughts were of his brave people, who had suffered so much and been so cruelly treated by the English.

Pontiac had hated the English ever since he could remember, not because they were of a different race and strangers, for the French were of a different race and strangers too, but because, in all their dealings with the Indians, the English had always been cruel, treacherous, and ready to take advantage, while the French had always been kind, trustworthy, and ready to be the red man's friend. And as the boy grew into manhood the hatred still continued, for the English still continued to steal the Indians' land and oppress them by unjust laws; and when his father died, and he became chief over the powerful Ottawas, he resolved to do all that he could to drive the English from his native land, so that the Indians and kindly French alone should live there peaceably and happily.

The Ottawas lived in the region lying between Lake Erie and Lake Michigan, and the neighboring tribes, the Chippeways, Wyandots, Senecas, and Pottawattomies, were also friends to the French and foes to the English, and ready to carry out any plan that the great chief Pontiac might propose.

The French, who hated the English as much as the Indians did, looked on, and were very glad to see that Pontiac and the other chiefs were so bitter against their common enemy; and the French leaders did everything in their power to keep the English and Indians at war.

At that time there was constant war between England and France, because each country thought she had the better right to America, and was trying to drive the other away.

Already the Acadians had been driven from their home by English soldiers, and England had conquered all the Canadian towns; and unless something was done very soon, the Indians and French would have no chance at all, for the English were more and more successful all the time. So Pontiac thought of a very bold plan. He was not so afraid of the English soldiers as some of the chiefs, for once, when leading his brave Ottawas against the English under General Braddock, he had seen them run before the attack of his men, and had come to the conclusion that they were no braver than any other soldiers. The more he thought of his plan the better he liked it; and at last he told it to the French, who approved it heartily, and said they had no doubt of its success. They told Pontiac that the French king had been asleep for a while, and that was the reason the English had gained so many victories; but that soon he would awake, and then he would drive the English away from the land of his "red children."

This was good news to Pontiac, who dearly loved France, and he went home more resolved than ever to carry out his plan, which was—that on a certain day all the Indians should join together and attack all the English forts at once, and so drive their hated enemy from the country forever. So he called the chief men of his tribe together, and they all agreed that this would be an easy thing to do if the other tribes would join. And then Pontiac sent messengers to every tribe between the Alleghany Mountains and the Mississippi; the messengers carried a belt of red beads and a tomahawk stained red, which meant that Pontiac was inviting them to begin war. In every village the messengers entered, the chief took the belt and tomahawk and held them up before his people, as a sign that he was willing to fight, and would help Pontiac drive away the English.

Soon afterward all the great chiefs met in council, and agreed on a day for the attack. It was to be May 7, 1763. Each chief was to lead his tribe against a certain fort, and the English were all to be murdered like dogs. But it happened that all the forts were not attacked on that day after all.

Pontiac was to attack Detroit, the strongest and most important of the forts. Before the appointed day he went to the fort with a number of his men, and asked the commander to let them come in and give an Indian dance. The English officer and his men were very willing to do this, as life was very tedious away from home and friends, and they were glad of anything that would amuse them. So the Indians entered the fort, and went through their strange, outlandish dance; but all the time they were looking carefully about the fort, seeing where it was strongest and where weakest, noticing the number of guns, and finding out about the provisions in case they should not be able to take it at once; and as soon as they had seen all they wanted to they went away, and the English did not imagine for a moment the real reason of their coming. The next thing to do was to take the fort, and Pontiac thought if he could get inside of the walls with some armed men, it would be a very easy thing to surprise the English, and thus make a successful attack. So he planned that he and his warriors should all go to the fort, carrying their guns hidden away under their blankets, and that they would ask the officer to let them come in and hold a council. Of course the officer would agree to this, seeing that they carried no weapons; and then, as soon as they were inside the fort, they would, at a certain signal, kill all the white officers, and so take the soldiers by surprise.

This was a bold plan; but all the warriors agreed to it, and waited impatiently for the time to come.

But among the Indians was a beautiful maiden, who had learned to love and trust the English, and who could not bear to think of their being so cruelly murdered; and she resolved to save them if she could. She was used to going in and out of the fort as she pleased, for she was a favorite with the officers, who had shown her many kindnesses; and one day, before Pontiac had time to carry out his plan, she went to the fort, taking with her, as an excuse, a pair of moccasons as a present to Major Gladwyn, the chief officer. But, when she came into the officer's presence, her courage failed her; she knew what her own fate would be if her words were not heeded, and Pontiac should succeed after all; and so, she quite lost heart, and, laying the moccasons down on the table, talked a little while with the major, and then went out without giving her warning. But when she was again outside, her troubled face attracted the notice of the sentinel, who immediately suspected some plot, and persuaded her to go back to Major Gladwyn. And then, after many promises of protection, she at length told him of Pontiac's plan, and warned him to be prepared. Major Gladwyn immediately began to make ready for Pontiac's visit, and when he appeared the next day, with fifty of his boldest warriors, all carrying their guns under their blankets, he found the English soldiers standing in ranks, armed and prepared for battle.

The chief saw at once that his plan had failed, and, as the English did not intend to fight unless the Indians began the battle, Pontiac and his men were allowed to leave the fort again in peace. And so Detroit was saved by a tender-hearted girl, and once again, as happened many times during the terrible struggles between the Indians and whites, the English had to thank an Indian maiden for help and warning in time of need.

But this failure only made Pontiac and the other chiefs more furious than ever. As soon as possible the other forts were attacked. The Wyandots burned Fort Sandusky, and butchered the soldiers; the Chippeways murdered nearly all the inmates of Fort Mackinaw; and by a clever trick Michilimackinac was also taken. The capture of Michilimackinac was on a holiday; the Indians had approached the fort and were playing ball outside; they had invited the soldiers out to see the game, and as they stood looking on, an Indian suddenly threw the ball near the gate of the fort. This was the sign agreed upon. The Indians all made a rush for the ball, and as they passed the squaws, who had been looking on, each man snatched his hatchet, which had been hidden under the women's blankets, and ran into the fort. The soldiers were not prepared, and in the surprise and confusion most of them were killed.

And so the Indians went on, taking fort after fort, until there remained only three in the hands of the English. One of these was Detroit, which Pontiac had surrounded for months with his own and other tribes; but the English had a large store of provisions, and Pontiac, seeing no hope of success just then, went away with his men to attack places less strong.

But he was still fiercely determined to drive the English from his western home, and for two years he gave them no peace—surprising them here and there, now at dead of night, and then in broad noonday, until the terrible war-cry of the Ottawas became a fear and dread to all the English in the west; but finally, worn out and discouraged with the useless struggle, one by one his warriors left him, and he fled to the Illinois, and lived with that tribe until his death.

His was the most dreaded name in the west, and for years after, when France and England were no longer at war, and the Indians were for the most part peaceful, the English settlers in the lake region and on the banks of the Mississippi still remembered, with shuddering horror, the name of Pontiac, the last of the great Indian chiefs.