"I don't know, Henry. He doesn't look like a trader."
It was true, the newcomer was Benoit Vascal, the very man Barringford and Dave had set out to find. Vascal was hunting for two French traders, who were to aid him in acquiring title to certain lands near Montreal. His hunt had led him from Detroit to Presque Isle and then to Fort Pitt. In the past he had had but little trouble with the Indians, who looked upon the French as their friends, but now the red men, mistaking him for an Englishman, had come close to depriving him of his life.
The excitement attending the rescue of Benoit Vascal was hardly at an end, when a soldier announced the coming of some Indians. A large body was approaching from the north, and at their head was Turtle's Head, and Chief Shingas of the Tuscaroras.
The Indian chiefs asked for a conference, which was granted to them. They said that they had received a great belt of wampum from the Ottawas, and that the latter were about to pass through the country and destroy the English. This being so, they again urged Captain Ecuyer to evacuate the fort.
"I shall not leave," said the commandant, firmly. And then he said he would fight to a finish, should the red men attack him.
Greatly enraged, the chiefs withdrew, and without delay the warriors came close to the fort that very night. Aided by the darkness, they dug burrows for themselves in the dirt of the river bank, and when daylight came, hid in the holes, so that the English could not see them. From the holes they sent a steady fire into the fort until not a person inside dared to expose himself.
"Now, we are going to catch it," said James Morris, knowing well what to expect. The battle waged with great fury, not only that day, but also the next and that following. Many soldiers and frontiersmen were wounded and Captain Ecuyer himself was struck in the leg by an arrow. Many fire arrows were hurled into the inclosure, and the defenders had to work hard to keep down the conflagration.
"We are doomed!" said some. "We cannot possibly hold out." And as day after day went by, and no relief showed itself, it certainly looked as if Fort Pitt must fall, and its gallant garrison be massacred.