"I am sorry to say," replied Gladwyn, "that she is held prisoner by Pontiac in company with her father the major, and Ensign Hester her brother. He was with Bullen, you know, and sacrificed himself to warn the schooner Gladwyn of her danger the other night. It was a fine thing to do, and I would gladly give up the schooner, valuable as she is to me, if by so doing he could be restored to us. Madam Rothsay was also held prisoner by the redskins until it fortunately occurred to them to offer her in exchange for a villanous Ojibwa chief, whom we happened to have on hand. Of course I was only too glad to make the exchange, and wish I had a dozen more like him to offer for the Hesters."
"By Jove!" cried Captain Dalzell, "it is horrible to think of the grand old major and his lovely daughter, and that fine son of his, all in the power of those devils. Can't we do something toward their rescue, Gladwyn? Surely we are strong enough now to take the offensive. I should be only too happy to lead a night attack on Pontiac's camp. We could make it a complete surprise, and my fellows are simply spoiling for a fight. It does seem as though the time to strike a decisive blow had come, and every day that we postpone it only increases the peril of the Hesters. What do you say, major? Won't you consider the proposition seriously?"
So the dinner party was turned into a council of war, and, before it broke up, an attack on Pontiac's camp had been arranged for the following night.
CHAPTER XXXIV
AH-MO, THE DAUGHTER OF PONTIAC
The day just concluded had been one of unhappiness and anxiety for the great Ottawa chieftain. The rumored defection of his Wyandot allies was proved true. The safe arrival at the fort of Dalzell's expedition was the most deadly blow yet struck at his cherished project. To crown all, he was not on the best of terms with his sole remaining allies, the fierce and warlike Ojibwas. These had no more desire than the Wyandots to fight on a losing side; and, moreover, they had a private grievance of long standing against Pontiac. It arose from the capture of one of their chiefs by the English, and the refusal of Pontiac to offer Major Hester in exchange for him.
Firm in his belief that Detroit must eventually fall into his hands, and that every soul within its walls would be killed, the Ottawa chief, intent on saving the life of the white man who had once saved his, refused to restore him to a place of such peril. In vain did the Ojibwa captive—who was no other than our old acquaintance, Mahng—send messages by the French settlers, who carried occasional communications between the fort and the Ottawa village, threatening that, if Major Hester were not exchanged for him, he would influence his tribe to make peace with the English. Pontiac only sent answer that the major was not his prisoner, but his guest, and therefore not subject to exchange, but that the first captive of sufficient consequence who should be brought in should be offered in his place.
When, therefore, Edith Hester and Madam Rothsay reached the village, Pontiac conceived the project of presenting the latter before the gates of Detroit, and demanding the release of the Ojibwa chief in her stead. To the grief of Madam Rothsay herself, and of the beautiful charge from whom she was thus separated, this plan was at once carried out, with the result that Mahng was restored to his followers. He was, however, more imbittered than ever against Pontiac, not only on account of his long imprisonment, but because of a woman having been offered and accepted in exchange for him.
This was not only a severe blow to his own pride, but to that of his people; and they became clamorous to have the insult avenged, for which purpose Mahng demanded that Major Hester be delivered to them, to do with as they pleased. This demand was refused with such indignant scorn that Mahng's evil face became black with fury; and, though he strode from Pontiac's presence in silence, his heart was filled with rage. This was intensified a few days later when the Ottawa chief upbraided him, and charged him with superstitious cowardice for aiding the escape of a white prisoner who had been condemned to death. In this case, Mahng had felt certain that Paymaster Bullen, carefully disguised as an Indian, would be fired upon and killed by the garrison of the fort, as he approached it, and was as disgusted as any one could be by the unexpected result of that experiment.