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. [Illustration: "_WHO IS THERE TO MOURN FOR LOGAN? NOT ONE._"]