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Page 85
"Take that, you ---- renegade, and see how it'll digest!"
As he fired, Girty fell, and perceiving this, the Indians, with a yell
of despair, instantly gathered round him, while the man effected his
escape. This closed the exciting contest of the cornfield--which had
been witnessed throughout from the station with feelings better imagined
than described--but, unfortunately for humanity, did not end the career
of Girty; for the ball had taken effect in his shot pouch instead of his
body; and though wounded, his case was in no wise critical; and he was
soon able to take his place at the council fire, to deliberate upon what
further should be done.[22]
The council alluded to, lasted some two or three hours. The Indians were
disheartened at their loss in the morning, and the failure of all their
stratagems, even to cutting off the reinforcements of the enemy. They
were sufficiently convinced they could not carry the fort by storm; and
they also believed it unsafe to longer remain where they were; as the
alarm of their presence had spread far and wide, and there was no
telling at what moment a force equal to their own might be brought
against them; therefore, they were now anxious to abandon the siege and
return home. Girty, however, was by no means satisfied with the turn
matters had taken. He had with great difficulty and masterly persuasion
succeeded in getting them to unite and march in a body (contrary to
their usual mode of warfare, which consisted in skirmishing with small
parties,) against the whites; and he now felt that his reputation was in
a manner staked on the issue; consequently he could illy bear to leave
without the trial of one more stratagem. This he made known to the
chiefs of the council, and offered, in case of failure, to retreat with
them at once.
As this last design of Girty was merely to deceive the whites, and
frighten them into capitulation, without any further risk to themselves,
the Indians agreed to it, and the council broke up.
It was nearly sundown; and every one in the station had been on the
alert, ready to repel another attack should the Indians renew
hostilities, as was not unlikely, when a voice cried out:
"Hang me to the nearest cross-bar, ef the red sons of Satan hav'nt sent
out a flag of truce!"
This at once drew the attention of most of the garrison to a small white
flag on a temporary pole, which at no great distance was gradually
nearing them, supported in an upright position by some object crawling
along on the ground. At length the object gained a stump; and having
mounted it, was at once recognized by Reynolds as the renegade--although
Girty on this expedition had doffed the British uniform, in which we
once described him, and now appeared in a costume not unlike his swarthy
companions.
"Halloo the garrison!" he shouted.
"Halloo yourself!--what's wanted?" cried a voice back again.
"Respect this flag of truce, and listen!" rejoined Girty; and waving it
from side to side as he spoke, he again proceeded: "Courage can do much
in war, and is in all cases a noble trait, which I for one do ever
respect; but there may be circumstances where manly courage can avail
nothing, and where to practice it only becomes fool-hardy, and is sure
to draw down certain destruction on the actor or actors. Such I hasten
to assure you, gentlemen, is exactly your case in the present instance.
No one admires the heroism which you have, one and all, even to your
women and children, this day displayed, more than myself; but I feel it
my duty to inform you that henceforth the utmost daring of each and
all of you combined can be of no avail whatever. Resistance on your
part will henceforth be a crime rather than a virtue. It is to save
bloodshed, and you all from a horrible fate, that I have ventured hither
at the risk of my life. You are surrounded by an army of six hundred
savages. To-morrow there will be a large reinforcement with cannon;
when, unless you surrender now, your bulwark will be demolished, and
you, gentlemen, with your wives and children, will become victims
to an unrelenting, cruel foe. Death will then be the mildest of your
punishments. I would save you from this. I am one of your race; and,
although on the side of your enemy, would at this time counsel and act
toward you a friendly part. Do you not know me? I am Simon Girty--an
agent of the British. Take my advice and surrender now your fort into
my hands, and I swear to you not a single hair of your heads shall be
harmed. But if you hold out until you are carried by storm I can not
save you; for the Indians will have become thirsty for your blood,
and no commander on earth could then restrain them. Be not hasty in
rejecting my friendly offer. It is for your good I have spoken--and so
weigh the matter well. I pause for an answer."
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