The council-house of the fort was a good-sized building located not far from the water's edge. Here Major Gladwyn and his principal officers met Pontiac and his chiefs and invited them to sit down on the mats put out for them. Pontiac was much disconcerted by the show of strength made by the English and scarcely knew how to proceed. He had expected to find the garrison entirely unprepared for attack.
"Why do I find so many of the father's young men standing in the streets with their guns?" asked the great Indian chief.
"I have ordered them out for the exercise," answered Major Gladwyn, through his interpreter, a Frenchman named La Butte. "Also, I would do honor to Pontiac," he added gravely.
At last the Indians sat down, concealing their guns as best they could. There was a pause and all looked at Pontiac, who finally arose, with his wampum speech-belt in his hands. The great chief began by stating that the Indians wanted to be friends to the English, and that they had come to smoke the pipe of peace, and to swear eternal friendship.
In the midst of his address Pontiac held up the speech-belt, as if to give the signal for an attack. As he did this, Major Gladwyn made a signal to an officer who stood outside the window of the council-house. Instantly the drums sounded out, calling an alarm, and there followed a clash of arms, which made some of the red men start in spite of their efforts to maintain their composure. All realized that their plan to surprise those at the fort had failed, and the under chiefs wondered what Pontiac would do in the emergency.
Mad with mortification, Pontiac could do nothing, and had to listen to Major Gladwyn's reply to his speech in silence. The commandant assured the Indians of his friendship, and said the English intended to treat them well so long as they behaved themselves, but that swift justice would be dealt out to them if they proved in the leastwise treacherous. Then the red men were allowed to depart, which they did silently and sullenly.
"Reckon they didn't find us nappin' thet time," said Barringford, after the meeting was over.
"Pontiac must be wild with rage," said Dave, and this was indeed the case.
A day or two of anxiety passed, and the soldiers and trappers at the fort were kept constantly on guard. The Indians, to deceive the English, came out on the green close to the fort and played a game of ball. In the meantime Pontiac went from tribe to tribe, calling upon the Wyandottes, the Ottawas, the Ojibwas, and the Pottawattamies to join in a general assault. War dances were held, and in their blind rage the Indians ran out of their villages and murdered half a dozen Englishmen and Frenchmen living at a distance from the fort. Then Pontiac marched again to the stronghold, with some of his chiefs, but found the gates shut against him.
"Why are not the gates open?" he demanded. "Pontiac comes to smoke the pipe of peace."