INDIAN SKETCHES. {From "Harper's New Monthly.")

Daily Southern Cross, Volume XVII, Issue 1438, 24 September 1861, Page 4

INDIAN SKETCHES. {From "Harper's New Monthly.")

Pontiao was chief only of the Ottawas, though the other tribes acknowledged his authority. He was at this time about fifty years of age, and though not abovo the middle height bore himself with wonderful dignity. No monarch ever trod the flour of his palace with a haughtier step than did this swarthy chieftain the green sward where the council sat. His features were not regular, but there was a boldness *nd sternness in their expiession which awed the beholder ; and his dark eye had a strange fascination in its glances Detroit, with its enviionß, atthißtime presented a picturesque appearance. The fort, with its little garrison of one hundred and twenty men, surrounded with palisades twenty-five feet high, and a bastion at each corner, formed the central figuie. The bright river, here pnly half a mile wide, flowed past it, almost washing its foundations. Above and below, fringing the stream as far as the eye could reach, gleamed the white farm-houses, rising from green orchard"!, while the pastures were alive with cattle. Within sight of the ramparts lay the villages of the Indians, their wigwams sprinkling the meadows, over which the listless warrior lounged, and the dusky maiden, shining in beads and vermilion, gayly tiipped ; while skinny, shrivelled hags 1 named along the outskirts of the forest, and troops of naked children rolled and shouted in the sun. The great solemn wilderness encompassed all, enclosing a scene of great contrasts — of great wildnesi and beauty combined. The red uniform of the soldier and swarthy naked form of the savage ; the sweet and stirring stiains of the band, and the hoarse beat of the Indian's drum and his discordant yells ; the rude wigwam and its dusky group beneath, and the neat farm-house with its well-set table ; the stately schooner riding at anchor in the stieam, and the birch bark canoes glancing over the water ; the smoke of the chimney and the smoke of the camp fire - all mingled together on this oasis in the wilderness in strange harmony. The tribes responded to Pontiac's call. Soon the fieice Ojibwas and Wyandots assembled at the place of rendezvous, and took their seats upon the grass in a circle. For a long time not a word was spoken in the council. At last Pontiac strode into its midst, plumed and painted for war. Casting his fierce glance around on the waiting group, he commenced denouncing the English, and calling on the chiefs to arise in defence of their rights. His voice at times pealed like a bugle, and his geshues were sudden and violent. After arousing the chiefs by his eloquence he unfolded his plans. He pioposed that on the second of May they should visit the fort, under pietence of interchanging friendly and peaceful greetings ; and then, when the garrison was suspecting no treachery, suddenly fall on them and massacre the whole. They all readily assented to his scheme. Gladwyn, commander of the fort, had seen nothing to arouse his suspicions, and everything betokened a quiet summer, until, just befoie this premeditated massacie, when a Canadian woman, who had visited the Ottawa village to buy some venison and maple sugar, reported that as she was passing among the wigwams she observed the warriors busily engaged in filing off their gun-barrels. A black smith hearing of it, said that for some days the Indians had been borrowing files and saws of him, which struck him as very singular. Tin's excited suspicion, and report was made to Gladwyn. He only laughed at the feais created by it ; for nothing had occurred to break the harmony that had now lasted for nearly two years Among the Ojibwas was a young Indian gnl, named Catherine, of rare beauty and exquisite form. Large, dark, and dreamy eyes lighted up her nut blown complexion, revealing a loving and passionate nature, while her moccasioned foot piessed the green swaid light and gracefully as a young fawn's Struck with her exquisite loveliness, Gladwyn had become enamoured of her ; and his passion being returned, she had become his mistress. The next day after the report of the woman was made, this gill came into the fort, bringing some elk-bkin moccasins, which she had woiked with porcupine quills, as a present for Gladwyn. He notfeed that she looked pen&ive and sad, but made no remark upon it ; and she left him without saying anything to alarm his suspicions. She did not go away, however, but lingered outside tho door as if unwilling to leave. A sentinel having watched hei strange and apparently distiessed manner for some time, lepoited it to Gladwyn, hinting that he had better que&tion her. Gladwyn called her in, and catching the earnest expiess>ion of her eye, saw at once there was something moie than common on her mind, and began to inteirogate her. But she only shook her head and, would make no answer. Her pertinacity and the melancholy manner in which she resisted his impol (.unities convinced him that she held a secret of serious import, and he piessed her still more earnestly. At last her firmness gave way befoie his warm pleadings, and the loving heart tiiumphed over its fears. She no longer saw her angry tiibe and the vengeful chieftains demanding her death as the betrayer of her race. She saw only the adored form of her lover before her, and her hps broke their painful silence. Making him promise not to betiay her secret, she told him that the Indians had sawed off their gun-barrels so that they could carry them concealed under their blankets ; and Pontiac, with his chiefs thus aimed, was about to visit the fort to hold a council. He would make a speech, and at its clo3e piesent to Gladwyn a peace-belt of wampum. When he leversed it in his hands it was to be the signal for a general massacre of all but the Canadians. Gladwyn warmly thanked the trembling beauty for this proof of her devotion, and bade her return to the village and neither do nor say anything: to awaken suspicion. The next day a pouring rain setm, and continued all day ; and the Indians did not make their appearance, though the gamson was kept tinder arms, and every piepaiation made to prevent a surprise. Toward evening it cleared up ; the broken clouds drifted away before the brisk west wind, and the sun sunk in a blaze of glory behind the western forest, its last beam glancing on the British colours that fluttered from the flagstaff. Twilight soon deepened into the full shadows of the night, and darkness fell on forest and stream. Gladwyn, whose feais had now become thoroughly aroused, would not retire to his quarters, but walked the ramparts all night. The scene, the time, and the imminent danger combined to render him sad and thoughtful. War was evidently detei mined upon by Pontiac, and he was unpiepared for it. He was there in the heart of the wilderness, far removed from succour, with only a hundred and twenty men in a fort presenting but feeble defences to a deteimined foe. He contrasted the quiet scene before him with the aspect it would piesent in a few days. Now all was tr.vnquil and serene. The river flowed by them with a dull monotonous sound, 1 effecting the stars in its bosom; and the gieat forest slept black and motionless against the sky. Before morning that stieam might swarm with hostile boats, and those silent woods resound with maddeued yells and fierce shouts of vengeance. But tho night passed on without disturbance, save now and then there aro&e the loud roll of the Indian drum in the distance, accompanied by bursts of yells as the Indians danced around their camp files that reddened the heavens far and near with their glow. When the welcome light of morning bioke over the forest all was bustle and commotion within the fort The sun rose bright and clear , but a heavy mist lay along the liver, entirely shrouding it from view. At length the heavy folds began to move and lift, and filially parted and floated gracefully away on the morning air, revealing the water covered with t bark canoes moving steadily across the river. Only tn o or three warriors appeared in each ; the others lying flat on their faces on the bottom, to avoid being seen. Pontiac had ordered this to be done, so as not to awaken any suspicions in the gariison that his mission was not what he represented it to be — a peaceful one. He could not leave them behind, for he would need them in the approaching conflict. There was a large common behind the fort ; this was soon filled with a crowd of Indians — squaws, children, and warriors mingled together — some naked, some dressed in fantastic costumes, or gaudily painted, and all apparently preparing for a game of ball Pontiac slowly approached the fort, with sixty chiefs at his back, marching in Indian file Each was wrapped to his chin in his blanket, underneath which, giasped with his light hand, lay concealed his trusty nfle. From the heads of some waved the hawk, the eagle, and laven plume. Others showed only the scalplock, while a few woie their hair naturally — the long dark locks hanging wildly about their malignant faces. As Pontiac passed thiough the gate of the foit he uttered a low ejaculation of surprise. Well might he do so; for the unexpected sight that met his gaze would have startled a gi eater stoic even than he. Instead of beholding the garrison lulled into security, and entirely off its guaid, he found himself between two lines of glittering steel, drawn up on each sido of the gate to leceive him. The houses of the traders and those employed by the garrison weie all closed, and tho occupants armed to the teeth, standing on guard upon the corners of the stieets ; while the tap of the drum, heard at intervals, told in language that Pontiac could not mistake, that the garrison, which he expected to find careless and secure, was in a state of the keenest vigilance and apparent alarm. Casting a (lark and moody glance around on these hostile pieparations, he strode haughtily through the principal street of the place and advanced direct to the council house followed by his chiefs. Passing through the door, he saw Gladwyn and the other offioeis seated at the faither end, each with his sword by his side, and a brace of pistols in his belt. Pontiac's brow darkoned at this additional proof that his treacherous and bloody plot had been discovered. Con ti oiling himself, however, by a strong effoit, he rallied; »nd addressing Gladwyn said, in a somewhat reproaohful tone, " Why do I see |

so many of my father's young men standing in the streets with their guns V Gladwyn replied carelessly that he had just been drilling them to keep up proper discipline. Pontiac knew this to be false ; but he could not do otherwise than appear to believe it, and the chiefs sat down. Pontiao spoke with all that plausi- ' bility and deep dissimulation so characteristic of the Indian when plotting treachery. His mind was cvi dently divided between the speech he was making and the course which, under this unexpected aspect of affairs, he ought to pursue. He could not tell whether rutnoms of his tieachery had reached the fort, causing the garrison to be suspicious and watchful, or whether his entile plot, in all its details even to the Bignal of attack — was known , and his countenance wore a disturbed, doubtful expiession. Beyond the wrathful gleam of his fierce eye there was a troubled look, revealing the intense working of his fierce soul under all that calm exterior. He had read the human countenance too long and carefully not to see that the faces of the soldiers wore not so much an expression of anxiety and suspicion as of calm grim doteimination — of certain knowledge and afixed purpose. Still the thought of abandoning his plan entirely roused all thedeep passions of his savage nature ; and before ho did this, he determined to test the accuracy of Gladwyn s knowledge to the uttci most. At length his speech was finished, andjhe pau&ed for » moment irresolute. The profoundest fcilence followed—so deep and awful that the suppiessed breathing of the excited actors in this strange scene could be distinctly heard. Gladwyn, who knew that the decisive moment had come, never for an instant turned his eye from the suspended belt of wampum. A single move- • ment, and the wild wai-whoop would burst on the startled ear, and the clash of weapons and the fierce death-grapple comes. Never was there a scene of moie thrilling, absorbing inteiest. There stood Pontiae — motionless, silent— the aim half extended, on which were fixed the glaring eyes of the chiefs, while the officers before him sat with compressed lips and bent bronb, sternly awaiting the next movement Pontiae slowly leached foith his hand, and began to reverse the wampum. Gladwyn saw it and, quick as lightning, made a slight, rapid gesture — a signal befoie agreed upon In an instant every hand sought the sword hilt, and the quick clank of arms through the open door smote ominously on the ear, The next moment the lolling sound of the drum beating the chaige, echoed afar through the streets The effect was electrical. Pontiae paused, confounded He now knew that his daik plot had been discoveied. The look of baffled lage and undying hate which lip threw around him was followed by an uncertain, distuibed look. Ec dared not make the signal agreed upon, for a giidle of steel surrounded him. The lion was caged , the haughty loid of the foiest caught in his own trap But beating back his swelling rage, smotheiing with a strong effoit the fires leady to burst into conflagration, he resumed his composure, and sat down. Gladwyn lose to reply. Indulging in no suspicions, he received the belt of \\ ampum as if it had been offered in the true spiiit of conciliation and kindness. Pontiae was compelled to swallow his fierce passions, and listen calmy — nay, outwardly with meekness — to the hypocritical harangue . The farce was the more striking for its being the finale of such an intended tragedy. These two men, burning with hatred against each other, yet wearing the outward guise of friendship, and expressing mutual trust and confidence — while such an unsprung mine of death and slaughter lay at their feet — presented a scene not sion to be foigotten by the spectators. At length the council bioke up ; and Pontiae, casting hausjhty and fieice glances on the ranks as he passed out, strodo through the gate of the fort, and returned, silent and moody, to his wigwam.