would be attended with success. He would disclose that
plan, and the great chiefs should give it the advantage
of their deliberation.

Captain de Haldimar was on the rack. The chief had
gradually dropped his voice as he explained his plan,
until at length it became so low, that undistinguishable
sounds alone reached the ear of the excited officer. For
a moment he despaired of making himself fully master of
the important secret; but in the course of the deliberation
that ensued, the blanks left unsupplied in the discourse
of the leader were abundantly filled up. It was what the
reader has already seen. The necessities of the Indians
were to be urged as a motive for their being tired of
hostilities. A peace was to be solicited; a council held;
a ball-playing among the warriors proposed, as a mark of
their own sincerity and confidence during that council;
and when the garrison, lulled into security, should be
thrown entirely off their guard, the warriors were to
seize their guns and tomahawks, with which (the former
cut short, for the better concealment of their purpose)
their women would be provided, rush in, under pretext of
regaining their lost ball, when a universal massacre of
men, women, and children was to ensue, until nothing
wearing the garb of a Saganaw should be left.

It would be tedious to follow the chief through all the
minor ramifications of his subtle plan. Suffice it they
were of a nature to throw the most wary off his guard;
and so admirably arranged was every part, so certain did