women, who were instructed to conceal them under their blankets, and during the game, and seemingly without design, to approach the drawbridge of the fort.  This precaution taken, the players were to approach and throw over their ball, permission to regain which they presumed would not be denied.  On approaching the drawbridge they were with fierce yells to make a general rush, and, securing the arms concealed by the women, to massacre the unprepared garrison.

The day was fixed; the game commenced, and was proceeded with in the manner previously arranged.  The ball was dexterously hurled into the fort, and permission asked to recover it.  It was granted.  The drawbridge was lowered, and the Indians dashed forward for the accomplishment of their work of blood.  How different the results in the two garrisons!  At Detroit, Ponteac and his warriors had scarcely crossed the drawbridge when, to their astonishment and disappointment, they beheld the guns of the ramparts depressed—­the artillerymen with lighted matches at their posts and covering the little garrison, composed of a few companies of the 42nd Highlanders, who were also under arms, and so distributed as to take the enemy most at an advantage.  Suddenly they withdrew and without other indication of their purpose than what had been expressed in their manner, and carried off the missing ball.  Their design had been discovered and made known by means of significant warnings to the Governor by an Indian woman who owed a debt of gratitude to his family, and was resolved, at all hazards, to save them.

On the same day the same artifice was resorted to at Michilimackinac, and with the most complete success.  There was no guardian angel there to warn them of danger, and all fell beneath the rifle, the tomahawk, the war-club, and the knife, one or two of the traders—­a Mr. Henry among the rest—­alone excepted.

It was not long after this event when the head of the military authorities in the Colony, apprised of the fate of these captured posts, and made acquainted with the perilous condition of Fort Detroit, which was then reduced to the last extremity, sought an officer who would volunteer the charge of supplies from Albany to Buffalo, and thence across the lake to Detroit, which, if possible, he was to relieve.  That volunteer was promptly found in my maternal grandfather, Mr. Erskine, from Strabane, in the North of Ireland, then an officer in the Commissariat Department.  The difficulty of the undertaking will be obvious to those who understand the danger attending a journey through the Western wilderness, beset as it was by the warriors of Ponteac, ever on the lookout to prevent succor to the garrison, and yet the duty was successfully accomplished.  He left Albany with provisions and ammunition sufficient to fill several Schnectady boats—­I think seven—­and yet conducted his charge with such prudence and foresight, that notwithstanding the vigilance of Ponteac, he finally and after long