no telling at what moment a force equal to their own might be brought against them; therefore, they were now anxious to abandon the siege and return home.  Girty, however, was by no means satisfied with the turn matters had taken.  He had with great difficulty and masterly persuasion succeeded in getting them to unite and march in a body (contrary to their usual mode of warfare, which consisted in skirmishing with small parties,) against the whites; and he now felt that his reputation was in a manner staked on the issue; consequently he could illy bear to leave without the trial of one more stratagem.  This he made known to the chiefs of the council, and offered, in case of failure, to retreat with them at once.

As this last design of Girty was merely to deceive the whites, and frighten them into capitulation, without any further risk to themselves, the Indians agreed to it, and the council broke up.

It was nearly sundown; and every one in the station had been on the alert, ready to repel another attack should the Indians renew hostilities, as was not unlikely, when a voice cried out: 

“Hang me to the nearest cross-bar, ef the red sons of Satan hav’nt sent out a flag of truce!”

This at once drew the attention of most of the garrison to a small white flag on a temporary pole, which at no great distance was gradually nearing them, supported in an upright position by some object crawling along on the ground.  At length the object gained a stump; and having mounted it, was at once recognized by Reynolds as the renegade—­although Girty on this expedition had doffed the British uniform, in which we once described him, and now appeared in a costume not unlike his swarthy companions.

“Halloo the garrison!” he shouted.

“Halloo yourself!—­what’s wanted?” cried a voice back again.

“Respect this flag of truce, and listen!” rejoined Girty; and waving it from side to side as he spoke, he again proceeded:  “Courage can do much in war, and is in all cases a noble trait, which I for one do ever respect; but there may be circumstances where manly courage can avail nothing, and where to practice it only becomes fool-hardy, and is sure to draw down certain destruction on the actor or actors.  Such I hasten to assure you, gentlemen, is exactly your case in the present instance.  No one admires the heroism which you have, one and all, even to your women and children, this day displayed, more than myself; but I feel it my duty to inform you that henceforth the utmost daring of each and all of you combined can be of no avail whatever.  Resistance on your part will henceforth be a crime rather than a virtue.  It is to save bloodshed, and you all from a horrible fate, that I have ventured hither at the risk of my life.  You are surrounded by an army of six hundred savages.  To-morrow there will be a large reinforcement with cannon; when, unless you surrender now, your bulwark will be demolished,