for a wind, the Iroquois asked permission to stretch their limbs on shore.  Horst foolishly granted their request, and as soon as they had made a landing they disappeared into the forest, and no doubt hurried to Pontiac’s warriors to let them know how weakly manned was the schooner.  The weather continued calm, and by nightfall the Gladwyn was still nine miles below the fort.  As darkness fell on that moonless night the captain, alarmed at the flight of the Iroquois, posted a careful guard and had his cannon at bow and stern made ready to resist attack.  So dark was the night that it was impossible to discern objects at any distance.  Along the black shore Indians were gathering, and soon a fleet of canoes containing over three hundred warriors was slowly and silently moving towards the becalmed Gladwyn.  So noiseless was their approach that they were within a few yards of the vessel before a watchful sentry, the boatswain, discerned them.  At his warning cry the crew leapt to their quarters.  The bow gun thundered out, and its flash gave the little band on the boat a momentary glimpse of a horde of painted enemies.  There was no time to reload the gun.  The canoes were all about the schooner, and yelling warriors were clambering over the stern and bow and swarming on the deck.  The crew discharged their muskets into the savages, and then seized spears and hatchets and rushed madly at them, striking and stabbing —­determined at least to sell their lives dearly.  For a moment the Indians in the black darkness shrank back from the fierce attack.  But already Horst was killed and several of the crew were down with mortal wounds.  The vessel seemed lost when Jacobs—­a dare-devil seaman—­now in command, ordered his men to blow up the vessel.  A Wyandot brave with some knowledge of English caught the words and shouted a warning to his comrades.  In an instant every warrior was over the side of the vessel, paddling or swimming to get to safety.  When morning broke not an Indian was to be seen, and the little Gladwyn sailed in triumph to Fort Detroit.  So greatly was the gallantry of her crew appreciated that Amherst had a special medal struck and given to each of the survivors.

Meanwhile, at Niagara, supplies were being conveyed over the portage between the lower landing (now Lewiston) and Fort Schlosser, in readiness for transport to the western posts.  The Senecas claimed the territory about Niagara, and the invasion of their land had greatly irritated them.  They particularly resented the act of certain squatters who, without their consent, had settled along the Niagara portage.  Fort Niagara was too strong to be taken by assault; but the Senecas hoped, by biding their time, to strike a deadly blow against parties conveying goods over the portage.  The opportunity came on September 14.  On this day a sergeant and twenty-eight men were engaged in escorting down to the landing a wagon-train and pack-horses which had gone up to Fort Schlosser the day before