← Table of ContentsThe Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket

CHAPTER I.

At the northern extremity of the small town which bears

its name, situated at the head of Lake Erie, stands, or

rather stood--for the fortifications then existing were

subsequently destroyed--the small fortress of Amherstburg.

It was the summer of 1812. Intelligence had been some

days received at that post, of the declaration of war by

the United States, the great aim and object of which was

the conquest, and incorporation with her own extensive

territories, of provinces on which she had long cast an

eye of political jealousy, and now assailed at a moment

when England (fighting the battles of the, even to this

moment, recreant and unredeemed Peninsula,) could ill

spare a solitary regiment to the rescue of her threatened,

and but indifferently defended transatlantic possessions.

Few places in America, or in the world, could, at the

period embraced by our narrative, have offered more

delightful associations than that which we have selected

for an opening scene. Amherstburg was at that time one

of the loveliest spots that ever issued from the will of

a beneficent and gorgeous nature, and were the

world-disgusted wanderer to have selected a home in which

to lose all memory of artificial and conventional forms,

his choice would assuredly have fallen here. And

insensible, indeed, to the beautiful realities of the

sweet wild solitude that reigned around, must that man

have been, who could have gazed unmoved, from the lofty

banks of the Erie, on the placid lake beneath his feet,

mirroring the bright starred heavens on its unbroken

surface, or throwing into full and soft relief the snow

white sail, and dark hull of some stately war-ship,

becalmed in the offing, and only waiting the rising of

the capricious breeze, to waft her onward on her THEN

peaceful mission of dispatch. Lost indeed to all perception

of the natural must he have been, who could have listened,

without a feeling of voluptuous melancholy, to the

plaintive notes of the whip-poor-will, breaking on the

silence of night, and harmonising with the general

stillness of the scene. How often have we ourselves, in

joyous boyhood, lingered amid these beautiful haunts,

drinking in the fascinating song of this strange night-bird,

and revelling in a feeling we were too young to analyze,

yet cherished deeply--yea, frequently, even to this hour,

do we in our dreams revisit scenes no parallel to which

has met our view, even in the course of a life passed in

many climes; and on awaking, our first emotion is regret

that the illusion is no more.

Such was Amherstburg, and its immediate vicinity, during

the early years of the present century, and up to the

period at which our story commences. Not, be it understood,

that even THEN the scenery itself had lost one particle

of its loveliness, or failed in aught to awaken and fix

the same tender interest. The same placidity of earth,

and sky, and lake remained, but the whip-poor-will, driven

from his customary abode by the noisy hum of warlike

preparation, was no longer heard, and the minds of the

inhabitants, hitherto disposed, by the quiet pursuits of

their uneventful lives, to feel pleasure in its song,

had eye nor ear for aught beyond what tended to the

preservation of their threatened homes.

Let us, however, introduce the reader more immediately

to the scene. Close in his rear, as he stands on the

elevated bank of the magnificent river of Detroit, and

about a mile from its point of junction with Lake Erie,

is the fort of Amherstburg, its defences consisting

chiefly of stockade works, flanked, at its several angles,

by strong bastions, and covered by a demi lune of five

guns, so placed as to command every approach by water.

Distant about three hundred yards on his right is a large,

oblong square building, resembling in appearance the red

low roofed blockhouses peering above the outward defences

of the fort. Surrounding this, and extending to the skirt

of the thinned forest, the original boundary of which is

marked by an infinitude of dingy half blackened stumps,

are to be seen numerous huts or wigwams of the Indians,

from the fires before which arises a smoke that contributes,

with the slight haze of the atmosphere, to envelope the

tops of the tall trees in a veil of blue vapour, rendering

them almost invisible. Between these wigwams and the

extreme verge of the thickly wooded banks, which sweeping

in bold curvature for an extent of many miles, brings

into view the eastern extremity of Turkey Island, situated

midway between Amherstburg and Detroit, are to be seen,

containing the accumulated Indian dead of many years,

tumuli, rudely executed it is true, but picturesquely

decorated with such adornments as it is the custom of

these simple mannered people to bestow on the last

sanctuaries of their departed friends. Some three or four

miles, and across the water, (for here it is that the

river acquires her fullest majesty of expansion,) is to

be seen the American Island of Gros Isle, which, at the

period of which we write, bore few traces of cultivation

--scarcely a habitation being visible throughout its

extent--various necks of land, however, shoot out abruptly,

and independently of the channel running between it and

the American main shore, form small bays or harbours in

which boats may always find shelter and concealment.

Thus far the view to the right of the spectator, whom we

assume to be facing the river. Immediately opposite to

the covering demi lune, and in front of the fort, appears,

at a distance of less than half a mile, a blockhouse and

battery, crowning the western extremity of the Island of

Bois Blanc, which, one mile in length and lashed at its

opposite extremity by the waters of Lake Erie, at this

precise point, receives into her capacious bosom the vast

tribute of the noble river connecting her with the higher

lakes. Between this island and the Canadian shore lies

the only navigable channel for ships of heavy tonnage,

for although the waters of the Detroit are of vast depth

every where above the island, they are near their point

of junction with the lake, and, in what is called the

American channel, so interrupted by shallows and sandbars,

that no craft larger than those of a description termed

"Durham boats" can effect the passage--on the other hand

the channel dividing the island from the Canadian shore

is at once deep and rapid, and capable of receiving

vessels of the largest size. The importance of such a

passage is obvious; but although a state of war necessarily

prevented aid from armed vessels to such forts of the

Americans as lay to the westward of the lake, it by no

means effectually cut off their supplies through the

medium of the Durham boats already alluded to. In order

to intercept those, a most vigilant watch was kept by

the light gun boats despatched into the lesser channel

for that purpose.

A blockhouse and battery crowned also the eastern extremity

of the island, and both, provided with a flag staff for

the purpose of communication by signal with the fort,

were far from being wanting in picturesque effect. A

subaltern's command of infantry, and a bombardier's of

artillery, were the only troops stationed there, and

these were there rather to look out for, and report the

approach of whatever American boats might be seen stealing

along their own channel, than with any view to the serious

defence of a post already sufficiently commanded by the

adjacent fortress. In every other direction the island

was thickly wooded--not a house--not a hut arose to

diversify the wild beauty of the scene. Frequently, it

is true, along the margin of its sands might be seen a

succession of Indian wigwams, and the dusky and sinewy

forms of men gliding round their fires, as they danced

to the monotonous sound of the war dance; but these

migratory people, seldom continuing long in the same

spot, the island was again and again left to its solitude.

Strongly contrasted with this, would the spectator, whom

we still suppose standing on the bank where we first

placed him, find the view on his left. There would he

behold a neat small town, composed entirely of wooden

houses variously and not inelegantly painted; and receding

gradually from the river's edge to the slowly disappearing

forest, on which its latest rude edifice reposed. Between

the town and the fort, was to be seen a dockyard of no

despicable dimensions, in which the hum of human voices

mingled with the sound of active labour--there too might

be seen, in the deep harbour of the narrow channel that

separated the town from the island we have just described,

some half-dozen gallant vessels bearing the colours of

England, breasting with their dark prows the rapid current

that strained their creaking cables in every strand, and

seemingly impatient of the curb that checked them from

gliding impetuously into the broad lake, which some few

hundred yards below, appeared to court them to her bosom.

But although in these might be heard the bustle of warlike

preparation, the chief attention would be observed to be

directed towards a large half finished vessel, on which

numerous workmen of all descriptions were busily employed,

evidently with a view of preparing for immediate service.

Beyond the town again might be obtained a view of the

high and cultivated banks, sweeping in gentle curve until

they at length terminated in a low and sandy spot, called

from the name of its proprietor, Elliott's Point. This

stretched itself toward the eastern extremity of the

island, so as to leave the outlet to the lake barely wide

enough for a single vessel to pass at a time, and that

not without skilful pilotage and much caution.

Assuming our reader to be now as fully familiar with the

scene as ourselves, let him next, in imagination, people

it, as on the occasion we have chosen for his introduction.

It was a warm, sunny, day in the early part of July. The

town itself was as quiet as if the glaive of war reposed

in its sheath, and the inhabitants pursued their wonted

avocations with the air of men who had nothing in common

with the active interest which evidently dominated the

more military portions of the scene. It was clear that

among these latter some cause for excitement existed,

fat, independently of the unceasing bustle within the

dock yard--a bustle which however had but one undivided

object-the completion and equipment of the large vessel

then on the stacks--the immediate neighbourhood of the

fort presented evidence of some more than ordinary

interest. The encampment of the Indians, on the verge

of the forest, had given forth the great body of their

warriors, and these clad in their gayest apparel, covered

with feathers and leggings of bright colours, decorated

with small tinkling bells that came not inharmoniously

on the ear, as they kept tone to the measured walk of

their proud wearers, were principally assembled around

and in front of the large building we have described as

being without, yet adjacent to, the fort. These warriors

might have been about a thousand in number, and amused

themselves variously--(the younger at least)--with

leaping--wrestling--ball playing-and the foot race--in

all which exercises they are unrivalled. The elders bore

no part in these amusements, but stood, or sat cross

legged, on the edge of the bank, smoking their pipes,

and expressing their approbation of the prowess or

dexterity of the victors in the games, by guttural, yet

rapidly uttered exclamations. Mingled with these were

some six or seven individuals, whose glittering costume

of scarlet announced them for officers of the garrison,

and elsewhere dispersed, some along the banks and crowding

the battery in front of the fort, or immediately around

the building, yet quite apart from their officers, were

a numerous body of the inferior soldiery.

But although these distinct parties were assembled, to

all appearance, with a view, the one to perform in, the

other to witness, the active sports we have enumerated,

a close observer of the movements of all would hare

perceived there was something more important in

contemplation, to the enactment of which these exercises

were but a prelude. Both officers, and men, and even the

participators in the sports, turned their gaze frequently

up the Detroit, as if they expected some important

approach. The broad reach of the wide river, affording

an undisturbed view, as we have stated, for a distance

of some nine or ten miles, where commenced the near

extremity of Turkey Island, presented nothing, however,

as yet, to their gate, and repeatedly were the telescopes

of the officers raised only to fall in disappointment

from the eye. At length a number of small dark specks

were seen studding the tranquil bosom of the river, as

they emerged rapidly, one after the other, from the cover

of the island. The communication was made, by him who

first discovered them, to his companions. The elder

Indians who sat near the spot on which the officers stood,

were made acquainted with what even their own sharp sight

could not distinguish unaided by the glass. One sprang

to his feet, raised the telescope to his eye, and with

an exclamation of wonder at the strange properties of

the instrument, confirmed to his followers the truth of

the statement. The elders, principally chiefs, spoke in

various tongues to their respective warriors. The sports

were abandoned, and all crowded to the bank with anxiety

and interest depicted in their attitudes and demeanor.

Meanwhile, the dark specks upon the water increased

momentarily in size. Presently they could be distinguished

for canoes, which, rapidly impelled, and aided in their

course by the swift current, were not long in developing

themselves to the naked eye. These canoes, about fifty

in number, were of bark, and of so light a description,

that a man of ordinary strength might, without undergoing

serious fatigue, carry one for miles. The warriors who

now propelled them, were naked in all save their leggings

and waist cloths, their bodies and faces begrimed with

paint: and as they drew neater, fifteen was observed to

be the complement of each. They sat by twos on the narrow

thwarts; and, with their faces to the prow, dipped their

paddles simultaneously into the stream, with a regularity

of movement not to be surpassed by the most experienced

boat's crew of Europe. In the stern of each sat a chief

guiding his bark, with the same unpretending but skilful

and efficient paddle, and behind him, drooping in the

breezeless air, and trailing in the silvery tide, was to

be seen a long pendant, bearing the red cross of England.

It was a novel and beautiful sight to behold that imposing

fleet of canoes, apparently so frail in texture that the

dropping of a pebble between the skeleton ribs might be

deemed sufficient to perforate and sink them, yet withal

so ingeniously contrived as to bear safely not only the

warriors who formed their crews, hut also their arms of

all descriptions, and such light equipment of raiment

and necessaries as were indispensable to men who had to

voyage long and far in pursuit of the goal they were now

rapidly attaining. The Indians already encamped near the

fort, were warriors of nations long rendered familiar by

personal intercourse, not only with the inhabitants of

the district, but with the troops themselves; and these,

from frequent association with the whites, had lost much

of that fierceness which is so characteristic of the

North American Indian in his ruder state. Among these,

with the more intelligent Hurons, were the remnants of

those very tribes of Shawanees and Delawares whom we have

recorded to have borne, half a century ago, so prominent

a share in the confederacy against England, but who,

after the termination of that disastrous war, had so far

abandoned their wild hostility, as to have settled in

various points of contiguity to the forts to which they,

periodically, repaired to receive those presents which

a judicious policy so profusely bestowed.

The reinforcement just arriving was composed principally

of warriors who had never yet pressed a soil wherein

civilization had extended her influence--men who had

never hitherto beheld the face of a white, unless it were

that of the Canadian trader, who, at stated periods,

penetrated fearlessly into their wilds for purposes of

traffic, and who to the bronzed cheek that exposure had

rendered nearly as swarthy as their own, united not only

the language but so wholly the dress--or rather the

undress of those he visited, that he might easily have

been confounded with one of their own dark blooded race.

So remote, indeed, were the regions in which some of

these warriors had been sought, that they were strangers

to the existence of more than one of their tribes, and

upon these they gazed with a surprise only inferior to

what they manifested, when, for the first time, they

marked the accoutrements of the British soldier, and

turned with secret, but unacknowledged awe and admiration

upon the frowning fort and stately shipping, bristling

with cannon, and vomiting forth sheets of flame as they

approached the shore. In these might have been studied

the natural dignity of man. Firm of step--proud of

mien--haughty yet penetrating of look, each leader offered

in his own person a model to the sculptor, which he might

vainly seek elsewhere. Free and unfettered in every limb,

they moved in the majesty of nature, and with an air of

dark reserve, passed, on landing, through the admiring

crowd.

There was one of the number, however, and his canoe was

decorated with a richer and a larger flag, whose costume

was that of the more civilized Indians, and who in

nobleness of deportment, even surpassed those we have

last named. This was Tecumseh. He was not of the race

of either of the parties who now accompanied him, but of

one of the nations, many of whose warriors were assembled

on the bank awaiting his arrival. As the head chief of

the Indians, his authority was acknowledged by all, even

to the remotest of these wild but interesting people,

and the result of the exercise of his all-powerful

influence had been the gathering together of those

warriors, whom he had personally hastened to collect from

the extreme west, passing in his course, and with impunity,

the several American posts that lay in their way. In

order more fully to comprehend the motives and character

of this remarkable man, it may not be impertinent to

recur summarily to events that took place prior to the

declaration of war by the United States against England.

It being a well established--and even by themselves

uncontradicted--fact, we can have no hesitation in stating

(what we trust no American will conceive to be stated in

illiberality of spirit, since such feeling we utterly

disclaim) that the government of the United States, bent

on the final acquisition of all the more proximate

possessions of the Indians, had for many consecutive

years, waged a war of extermination against these

unfortunate people, and more especially those residing

on the Wabash, to which the eye of interest or preference,

or both, had directed a jealous attention. For a series

of years the aggression had been prosecuted with fearful

issue to the Indians, when, at length, one of those daring

spirits, that appear like meteors, few and far between,

in the horizon of glory and intelligence, suddenly started

up in the person of Tecumseh, who, possessed of a genius,

as splendid in conception, as it was bold in execution,

long continued to baffle the plans and defeat the measures

of his most experienced enemies. Whether the warrior owed

his original influence, or rather the opportunity for

development of his extraordinary talents, both diplomatic

and warlike, to the fact of his being the brother of the

Prophet--a similar, and rather mean looking person, whom

a deep reading of the prejudices of his followers had

bound to him in an enthusiasm of superstitious credence

--whether, we repeat, Tecumseh owed his elevation to this

circumstance in part, or wholly to his own merit, it is

difficult to determine with certainty, but it is matter

of history, that plausible and powerful as the Prophet

had rendered himself, his more open and generous brother,

while despising in his heart the mummeries practised by

his wily relative, was not long in supplanting him in

the affections, as he rapidly superseded him in authority

and influence, over his people--All looked up to him as

the defender and saviour of their race, and so well did

he merit the confidence reposed in him, that it was not

long after his first appearance as a leader in the

war-path, that the Americans were made sensible, by

repeated defeat, of the formidable character of the chief

who had thrown himself into the breach of his nation's

tottering fortunes, resolved rather to perish on the spot

on which he stood, than to retire one foot from the home

of their forefathers. What self-ennobling actions the

warrior performed, and what talent he displayed during

that warfare, the page of American history must tell.

With the spirit to struggle against, and the subsequent

good fortune to worst the Americans in many conflicts,

these latter, although beaten, have not been wanting in

generosity to admire their formidable enemy while living,

neither have they failed to venerate his memory when

dead. If they have helped to bind the laurel around his

living brow, they have not been the less willing to weave

the cypress that encircles his memory.

In almost every encounter with them, Tecumseh was more

or less successful; but, like the conqueror of other

days, he might have exclaimed, "another such victory and

I am lost." Weakened in a constant succession of

engagements, the Indians, and the Shawnees in particular,

now presented but a skeleton of their former selves,

while the Americans, on the contrary, with an

indefatigability that would have done credit to a better

cause, kept pouring in fresh forces to the frontier,

until, in the end, opposition to their purpose seemed

almost hopeless. It is doubtful, however, what would have

been the final result of a contest against a warrior of

such acknowledged ability and resource as Tecumseh, had

it not unfortunately happened that the Americans, taking

advantage of the performance of some of those mummeries

by which the Prophet still sought to uphold his fast

declining power, managed to surprise the Shawanee encampment

in the dead of night, when, favoured by circumstances,

they committed fearful havoc, nearly annihilating their

enemies.

Finding every effort to preserve his situation on the

Wabash unavailing, Tecumseh, accompanied by the remnant

of his followers, fell back on the Ohio, Miami, and

Detroit, where his first object was to enter into a

treaty, offensive and defensive, with the formidable

nations of the Delawares, Hurons, etc. An alliance with

the English, then momentarily apprehending a rupture with

the United States, was, moreover renewed, and then with

the hope strong at his heart of combating his enemies

once more, with success, he had with exulting spirit and

bounding step, set out to win to the common interest,

the more distant tribes of the Sioux, Minouminies,

Winnebagoes, Kickapoos, etc., of whom he had secured the

services of the warriors just arrived.

It was amidst the blaze of an united salvo from the demi

lune crowning the bank, and from the shipping, that the

noble chieftain, accompanied by the leaders of those wild

tribes, leaped lightly, yet proudly to the beach; and

having ascended the steep bank by a flight of rude steps

cut out of the earth, finally stood amid the party of

officers waiting to receive them. It would not a little

have surprised a Bond street exquisite of that day to

have witnessed the cordiality with which the dark hand

of the savage was successively pressed in the fairer

palms of the English officers, neither would his

astonishment have been abated, on remarking the proud

dignity of carriage maintained by the former, in this

exchange of courtesy, as though, while he joined heart

to hand wherever the latter fell, he seemed rather to

bestow than to receive a condescension.

Had none of those officers ever previously beheld him,

the fame of his heroic deeds had gone sufficiently before

the warrior to have insured him their warmest greeting

and approbation, and none could mistake a form that, even

amid those who were a password for native majesty, stood

alone in its bearing: but Tecumseh was a stranger to few.

Since his defeat on the Wabash he had been much at

Amherstburg, where he had rendered himself conspicuous

by one or two animated and highly eloquent speeches,

having for their object the consolidation of a treaty,

in which the Indian interests were subsequently bound in

close union with those of England; and, up to the moment

of his recent expedition, had cultivated the most perfect

understanding with the English chiefs.

It might, however, be seen that even while pleasure and

satisfaction at a reunion with those he in torn esteemed,

flashed from his dark and eager eye, there was still

lurking about his manner that secret jealousy of

distinction, which is so characteristic of the haughty

Indian. After the first warm salutations had passed, he

became sensible of the absence of the English chief; but

this was expressed rather by a certain outswelling of

his chest, and the searching glance of his restless eye,

than by any words that fell from his lips. Presently,

he whom he sought, and whose person had hitherto been

concealed by the battery on the hank, was seen advancing

towards him, accompanied by his personal staff. In a

moment the shade passed away from the brow of the warrior,

and warmly grasping and pressing, for the second time,

the hand of a youth--one of the group of junior officers

among whom he yet stood, and who had manifested even more

than his companions the unbounded pleasure he took in

the chieftain's re-appearance--he moved forward, with an

ardour of manner that was with difficulty restrained by

his sense of dignity, to give them the meeting.

The first of the advancing party was a tall, martial

looking man, wearing the dress and insignia of a general

officer. His rather florid countenance was eminently

fine, if not handsome, offering, in its more Roman than

Grecian contour, a model of quiet, manly beauty; while

the eye, beaming with intelligence and candour, gave, in

the occasional flashes which it emitted, indication of

a mind of no common order. There was, notwithstanding,

a benevolence of expression about it that blended (in a

manner to excite attention) with a dignity of deportment,

as much the result of habitual self command, as of the

proud eminence of distinction on which he stood. The

sedative character of middle age, added to long acquired

military habits, had given a certain rigidity to his fine

form, that might have made him appear to a first observer

even older than he was, but the placidity of a countenance

beaming good will and affability, speedily removed the

impression, and, if the portly figure added to his years,

the unfurrowed countenance took from them in equal

proportion.

At his side, hanging on his arm and habited in naval

uniform, appeared one who, from his familiarity of address

with the General, not less than by certain appropriate

badges of distinction, might be known as the commander

of the little fleet then lying in the harbour. Shorter

in person than his companion, his frame made up in activity

what it wanted in height, and there was that easy freedom

in his movements which so usually distinguishes the

carriage of the sailor, and which now offered a remarkable

contrast to that rigidity we have stated to have attached

(quite unaffectedly) to the military commander. His eyes,

of a much darker hue, sparkled with a livelier intelligence,

and although his complexion was also highly florid, if

was softened down by the general vivacity of expression

that pervaded his frank and smiling countenance. The

features, regular and still youthful, wore a bland and

pleasing character; while neither, in look, nor bearing,

nor word could there be traced any of that haughty reserve

usually ascribed to the "lords of the sea." There needed

no other herald to proclaim him for one who had already

seen honorable service, than the mutilated stump of what

had once been an arm: yet in this there was no boastful

display, as of one who deemed he had a right to tread

more proudly because he had chanced to suffer, where all

had been equally exposed, in the performance of a common

duty. The empty sleeve, unostentatiously fastened by a

loop from the wrist to a button of the lappel was suffered

to fall at his side, and by no one was the deficiency

less remarked than by himself.

The greeting between Tecumseh and these officers, was

such as might be expected from warriors bound to each

other by mutual esteem. Each held the other in the highest

honor, but it was particularly remarked that while the

Indian Chieftain looked up to the General with the respect

he felt to be due to him, not merely as the dignified

representative of his "Great Father," but as one of a

heart and actions claiming his highest personal admiration,

his address to his companion, whom he now beheld for the

first time, was warmer, and more energetic; and as he

repeatedly glanced at the armless sleeve, he uttered one

of those quick ejaculatory exclamations, peculiar to his

race, and indicating, in this instance, the fullest extent

of approbation. The secret bond of sympathy which chained

his interest to the Commodore, might have owed its being

to another cause. In the countenance of the latter there

was much of that eagerness of expression, and in the eye

that vivacious fire, that flashed, even in repose, from

his own swarthier and more speaking features; and this

assimilation of character might have been the means of

producing that preference for, and devotedness to, the

cause of the naval commander, that subsequently developed

itself in the chieftain. In a word, the General seemed

to claim the admiration and the respect of the Indian--

the Commodore, his admiration and friendship.

The greeting between these generous leaders was brief.

When the first salutations had been interchanged, it was

intimated to Tecumseh, through the medium of an interpreter,

then in attendance on the General, that a war-council

had been ordered, for the purpose of taking into

consideration the best means of defeating the designs of

the Americans, who, with a view to offensive operations,

had, in the interval of the warrior's absence, pushed on

a considerable force to the frontier. The council,

however, had been delayed, in order that it might have

the benefit of his opinions, and of his experience in

the peculiar warfare which was about to be commenced.

Tecumseh acknowledged his sense of the communication with

the bold frankness of the inartificial son of nature,

scorning to conceal his just self-estimate beneath a veil

of affected modesty. He knew his own worth, and while he

over-valued not one iota of that worth, so did he not

affect to disclaim a consciousness of the fact--that

within his swarthy chest and active brain there beat a

heart and lived a judgment, as prompt to conceive and

execute as those of the proudest he that ever swayed the

destinies of a warlike people. Replying to the

complimentary invitation of the General, he unhesitatingly

said he had done well to await his (Tecumseh's) arrival,

before he determined on his course of action, and that

he should now have the full benefit of his opinions and

advice.

If the chief had been forcibly prepossessed in favour of

the naval commander, the latter had not been less

interested. Since his recent arrival, to assume the

direction of the fleet, Commodore Barclay had had

opportunities of seeing such of the chiefs as were then

assembled at Amherstburg; but great as had been his

admiration of several of these, he had been given to

understand they fell far short, in every moral and physical

advantage, of what their renowned leader would be found

to possess, when, on his return from the expedition in

which he was engaged, fitting opportunity should be had

of bringing them in personal proximity. This admission

was now made in the fullest sense, and as the warrior

moved away to give the greeting to the several chiefs,

and conduct them to the council hall, the gallant sailor

could not refrain from expressing, in the warmest terms

to General Brock, as they moved slowly forward with the

same intention, the enthusiastic admiration excited in

him by the person, the manner, and the bearing, of the

noble Tecumseh.

Again the cannon from the battery and the shipping pealed

forth their thunder. It was the signal for the commencement

of the council, and the scene at that moment was one of

the most picturesque that can well be imagined. The sky

was cloudless, and the river, no longer ruffled by the

now motionless barks of the recently arrived Indians,

yet obeying the action of the tide, offered, as it glided

onward to the lake, the image of a flood of quick-silver;

while, in the distance, that lake itself, smooth as a

mirror, spread far and wide. Close under the bank yet

lingered the canoes, emptied only of their helmsmen (the

chiefs of the several tribes,) while, with strange tongues

and wilder gestures, the warriors of these, as they rested

on their paddles, greeted the loud report of the cannon--

now watching with eager eye the flashes from the vessel's

sides, and now upturning their gaze, and following with

wild surprise, the deepening volumes of smoke that passed

immediately over their heads, from the guns of the battery,

hidden from their view by the elevated and overhanging

bank. Blended with each discharge arose the wild yell,

which they, in such a moment of novel excitement, felt

it impossible to control, and this, answered from the

Indians above and borne in echo almost to the American

shore, had in it something indescribably startling. On

the bank itself the effect was singularly picturesque.

Here were to be seen the bright uniforms of the British

officers, at the head of whom was the tall and martial

figure of General Brock, furthermore conspicuous from

the full and drooping feather that fell gracefully over

his military hat, mingled with the wilder and more fanciful

head dresses of the chiefs. Behind these again, and

sauntering at a pace that showed them to have no share

in the deliberative assembly, whither those we have just

named were now proceeding amid the roar of artillery,

yet mixed together in nearly as great dissimilarity of

garb, were to be seen numbers of the inferior warriors

and of the soldiery, while, in various directions, the

games recently abandoned by the adult Indians, were now

resumed by mere boys. The whole picture was one of strong

animation, contrasting as it did with the quiet of the

little post on the Island, where some twelve or fifteen

men, composing the strength of the detachment, were now

sitting or standing on the battery, crowned, as well as

the fort and shipping, and in compliment to the newly

arrived Indians, with the colours of England.

Such was the scene, varied only as the numerous actors

in it varied their movements, when the event occurred,

with which we commence our next chapter.