As he fired, Girty fell, and perceiving this, the Indians, with a yell of despair, instantly gathered round him, while the man effected his escape. This closed the exciting contest of the cornfield—which had been witnessed throughout from the station with feelings better imagined than described—but, unfortunately for humanity, did not end the career of Girty; for the ball had taken effect in his shot pouch instead of his body; and though wounded, his case was in no wise critical; and he was soon able to take his place at the council fire, to deliberate upon what further should be done.[22]
The council alluded to, lasted some two or three hours. The Indians were disheartened at their loss in the morning, and the failure of all their stratagems, even to cutting off the reinforcements of the enemy. They were sufficiently convinced they could not carry the fort by storm; and they also believed it unsafe to longer remain where they were; as the alarm of their presence had spread far and wide, and there was no telling at what moment a force equal to their own might be brought against them; therefore, they were now anxious to abandon the siege and return home. Girty, however, was by no means satisfied with the turn matters had taken. He had with great difficulty and masterly persuasion succeeded in getting them to unite and march in a body (contrary to their usual mode of warfare, which consisted in skirmishing with small parties,) against the whites; and he now felt that his reputation was in a manner staked on the issue; consequently he could illy bear to leave without the trial of one more stratagem. This he made known to the chiefs of the council, and offered, in case of failure, to retreat with them at once.
As this last design of Girty was merely to deceive the whites, and frighten them into capitulation, without any further risk to themselves, the Indians agreed to it, and the council broke up.
It was nearly sundown; and every one in the station had been on the alert, ready to repel another attack should the Indians renew hostilities, as was not unlikely, when a voice cried out:
"Hang me to the nearest cross-bar, ef the red sons of Satan hav'nt sent out a flag of truce!"
This at once drew the attention of most of the garrison to a small white flag on a temporary pole, which at no great distance was gradually nearing them, supported in an upright position by some object crawling along on the ground. At length the object gained a stump; and having mounted it, was at once recognized by Reynolds as the renegade—although Girty on this expedition had doffed the British uniform, in which we once described him, and now appeared in a costume not unlike his swarthy companions.
"Halloo the garrison!" he shouted.
"Halloo yourself!—what's wanted?" cried a voice back again.
"Respect this flag of truce, and listen!" rejoined Girty; and waving it from side to side as he spoke, he again proceeded: "Courage can do much in war, and is in all cases a noble trait, which I for one do ever respect; but there may be circumstances where manly courage can avail nothing, and where to practice it only becomes fool-hardy, and is sure to draw down certain destruction on the actor or actors. Such I hasten to assure you, gentlemen, is exactly your case in the present instance. No one admires the heroism which you have, one and all, even to your women and children, this day displayed, more than myself; but I feel it my duty to inform you that henceforth the utmost daring of each and all of you combined can be of no avail whatever. Resistance on your part will henceforth be a crime rather than a virtue. It is to save bloodshed, and you all from a horrible fate, that I have ventured hither at the risk of my life. You are surrounded by an army of six hundred savages. To-morrow there will be a large reinforcement with cannon; when, unless you surrender now, your bulwark will be demolished, and you, gentlemen, with your wives and children, will become victims to an unrelenting, cruel foe. Death will then be the mildest of your punishments. I would save you from this. I am one of your race; and, although on the side of your enemy, would at this time counsel and act toward you a friendly part. Do you not know me? I am Simon Girty—an agent of the British. Take my advice and surrender now your fort into my hands, and I swear to you not a single hair of your heads shall be harmed. But if you hold out until you are carried by storm I can not save you; for the Indians will have become thirsty for your blood, and no commander on earth could then restrain them. Be not hasty in rejecting my friendly offer. It is for your good I have spoken—and so weigh the matter well. I pause for an answer."
The effect of Girty's speech upon the garrison, was to alarm them not a little. His mention of reinforcements with cannon, caused many a stout heart to tremble, and many a face to blanch and turn to its neighbor with an expression of dismay. Against cannon they knew, as Girty stated, resistance would be of no avail; and cannon had, in 1780, advanced up the Licking Valley, and destroyed Riddle's and Martin's stations. If Girty told the truth, their case was truly alarming.