The Conspiracy of Pontiac and the Indian War after the Conquest of CanadaParkman, Francis
History
The Conspiracy of Pontiac and the Indian War after the Conquest of Canada
Parkman, Francis
Pontiac's Conspiracy, 1763-1765
“The die appeared to be cast. I could scarcely breathe; but I thought the
throbbing of my heart occasioned a noise loud enough to betray me. The
Indians walked in every direction about the garret; and one of them
approached me so closely, that, at a particular moment had he put forth
his hand, he must have touched me. Still I remained undiscovered; a
circumstance to which the dark color of my clothes, and the want of light,
in a room which had no window in the corner in which I was, must have
contributed. In a word, after taking several turns in the room, during
which they told M. Langlade how many they had killed, and how many scalps
they had taken, they returned downstairs; and I, with sensations not to be
expressed, heard the door, which was the barrier between me and my fate,
locked for the second time.
“There was a feather bed on the floor; and on this, exhausted as I was by
the agitation of my mind, I threw myself down and fell asleep. In this
state I remained till the dusk of the evening, when I was awakened by a
second opening of the door. The person that now entered was M. Langlade’s
wife, who was much surprised at finding me, but advised me not to be
uneasy, observing that the Indians had killed most of the English, but
that she hoped I might myself escape. A shower of rain having begun to
fall, she had come to stop a hole in the roof. On her going away, I begged
her to send me a little water to drink, which she did.
“As night was now advancing, I continued to lie on the bed, ruminating on
my condition, but unable to discover a resource from which I could hope
for life. A flight to Detroit had no probable chance of success. The
distance from Michillimackinac was four hundred miles; I was without
provisions, and the whole length of the road lay through Indian countries,
countries of an enemy in arms, where the first man whom I should meet
would kill me. To stay where I was, threatened nearly the same issue. As
before, fatigue of mind, and not tranquillity, suspended my cares, and
procured me farther sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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