Naturally the Indians made many attempts to burn the fort and other defences. If the flames were once fairly started, nothing could stay them, but the vigilance of the garrison night and day defeated every effort of this nature. Days and weeks passed without any marked change in the situation. The defenders held out grimly and the besiegers did not loose their grip. The supply of provisions began to run low, and, but for the help of the Canadians on the other side of the river, the garrison, who had long been on short rations, must have suffered for food. These friends came over at night, for had Pontiac known what they were doing, he would have stopped their practices and punished them.
At the wharf near the fort lay two schooners, which gave much help in fighting off the besiegers. The critical situation of Detroit had become known to the authorities, who were expected to send reinforcements and supplies to the post by way of Lake Erie. These were so slow in coming, that Major Gladwyn sent one of the vessels to hasten them. Several days later, the lookout at Detroit called out the glad tidings that the supply boats were in sight. When all faces were glowing with expectation, an alarming thing was seen. In one of the boats, a white man was desperately fighting with an Indian. In each craft were a number of warriors, who were lying down, in order to reach the fort undiscovered. In fact, all the boats with their supplies had been captured by the redskins. It was a clever ruse.
The schooner which had been sent to hurry the boats missed them, and sailed on to Niagara, while the relief expedition had coasted Lake Erie to the mouth of Detroit River. At that place they landed and were making camp, when they were attacked by a force of Wyandots, who killed many and took sixty prisoners. Two boats escaped with forty men, in one of which was Lieutenant Cuyler, in charge of the company. They made their way back to Niagara, while the prisoners were compelled to row to Detroit.
Meanwhile, a second expedition was fitted out at Niagara, and sailed in the schooner that had been sent thither by Major Gladwyn. She reached the Detroit River, but while still some miles below the fort, the wind died out and she dropped anchor. Every one on board was aware of their peril. The banks were lined with warriors, who would not let such a golden opportunity pass. It was about midnight, that a large number of canoes put out from the shores, and silently approached the schooner. The watchful crew allowed them to come within a few rods, when a broadside of grape and a volley of musket balls killed and wounded nearly two-score. The others leaped overboard or rowed frantically to land, and the next morning the vessel made her way to the wharf below the fort, much to the chagrin of the red men.
The presence of the two vessels was intolerable to Pontiac. He made several fire rafts, piled them with brush, set them ablaze and started them down stream. But the white men were looking for such an attempt, and by their quickness steered the flaming craft harmlessly past the schooners. Pontiac repeated the effort, but without success, and then gave it up as useless strategy.
As the weeks and months passed, without anything being done, many of the Indians grew tired of the siege. The Pottawatomies and Wyandots proposed peace and exchanged prisoners with Major Gladwyn, who placed little faith in the promise of the savages. Pontiac, however, held his Ottawas and Ojibwas as strongly in hand as ever.
In the latter part of July, twenty-two barges, containing two hundred and eighty men, in charge of Major Dalzell, entered the Detroit River. A fog hung over the stream, and when the boats were opposite the Wyandot and Pottawatomie village, they received a fire which killed and wounded several men. It will be remembered that these were the tribes that had made an agreement of peace with Major Gladwyn only a few days before. They were partly punished by the return volleys of the reinforcements, which brought down a number of Indians and scattered the others in a headlong panic.
The arrival of such a large body of friends raised the hopes of the defenders to the highest point. Major Dalzell himself was ardent, and declared it a disgrace to submit longer to such a state of affairs. The idea of so large a force of white men being cooped up in the defences by a horde of painted Indians, was too much to be borne. He insisted upon attacking the besiegers, not doubting for a moment that he would send the whole lot flying. Major Gladwyn understood the situation better than his friend, and shook his head. He could not share the confidence of the officer. But Dalzell still urged, and finally, Gladwyn, against his own judgment, gave his consent to the plan for ending the siege of Detroit.
Just as the first streakings of day were beginning to show in the east, two hundred and fifty men moved out of the fort, and stole like so many phantoms through the forest, toward Pontiac's encampment. They kept along shore, while two bateaux, each with a swivel gun at its bow, held their places abreast of the soldiers. The expedition would have been successful, and a crushing blow given, had not the scheme become known to some of the Canadians, who revealed it to the Ottawa chief. He had time to make his preparations which he did thoroughly.