by desultory and irritating attacks.

Nothing of importance took place until September 3. On
this day the little _Gladwyn_, which had gone to the
Niagara with dispatches, entered the Detroit river on
her return trip. She was in charge of Captain Horst, who
was assisted by Jacobs as mate, and a crew of ten men.
There were likewise on board six Iroquois Indians. It
was a calm morning; and as the vessel lay with idly
flapping sails waiting for a wind, the Iroquois asked
permission to stretch their limbs on shore. Horst foolishly
granted their request, and as soon as they had made a
landing they disappeared into the forest, and no doubt
hurried to Pontiac's warriors to let them know how weakly
manned was the schooner. The weather continued calm, and
by nightfall the _Gladwyn_ was still nine miles below
the fort. As darkness fell on that moonless night the
captain, alarmed at the flight of the Iroquois, posted
a careful guard and had his cannon at bow and stern made
ready to resist attack. So dark was the night that it
was impossible to discern objects at any distance. Along
the black shore Indians were gathering, and soon a fleet
of canoes containing over three hundred warriors was
slowly and silently moving towards the becalmed _Gladwyn_.
So noiseless was their approach that they were within a
few yards of the vessel before a watchful sentry, the
boatswain, discerned them. At his warning cry the crew
leapt to their quarters. The bow gun thundered out, and
its flash gave the little band on the boat a momentary
glimpse of a horde of painted enemies. There was no time