The Indians were only waiting for a sudden, bold blow at
some one of the British posts, and on the instant they
would be on the war-path from the shores of Lake Superior
to the borders of the southernmost colonies of Great
Britain. The blow was soon to be struck. Pontiac's
war-belts had been sent broadcast, and the nations who
recognized him as over-chief were ready to follow him to
the slaughter. Detroit was the strongest position to the
west of Niagara; it contained an abundance of stores,
and would be a rich prize. As Pontiac yearly visited this
place during the trading season, he knew the locality
well and was familiar with the settlers, the majority of
whom were far from being friendly to the British. Against
Detroit he would lead the warriors, under the pretence
of winning back the country for the French.

In the spring of 1763, instead of going direct to his
usual camping-place, an island in Lake St Clair, Pontiac
pitched his wigwam on the bank of the river Ecorces, ten
miles south of Detroit, and here awaited the tribes whom
he had summoned to a council to be held 'on the 15th of
the moon'--the 27th of April. And at the appointed time
nearly five hundred warriors--Ottawas, Potawatomis,
Chippewas, and Wyandots--with their squaws and papooses,
had gathered at the meeting-place, petty tribal jealousies
and differences being laid aside in their common hatred
of 'the dogs dressed in red,' the British soldiers.

When the council assembled Pontiac addressed them with