safety, and
the short waves and narrow channels require more skill than the broad
sweep of the ocean. There is always a lee shore near, and you cannot run
away from it, as you can at sea."

At noon the wind had somewhat subsided, and a faint sunshine gleamed
through the ragged clouds. Driving out to the scene of our picnic a few
days before, we stood on the edge of the cliff and watched the great
waves come rolling in and dash against the rocks sixty feet in the air,
so that our faces were wet with their spray. The little river was white
with surf rushing in over the bar: not a leaf remained on the bare
ground, the naked trees tossed their arms wildly to and fro, and the
pines were coated with ice. A short distance to the west a boy pointed
out some timbers floating in the surf. "Them's the schooner that come
ashore last night," he explained. "This here beach is a bad place in a
storm. The crew's all drownded: guess the bodies will be coming ashore
in a few days." We turned away with a shudder. The story of the
silver-haired professor came vividly back to our minds. We relate it in
almost his own words, as it forms part of the unwritten history of
ante-Revolutionary times, but vaguely known and appreciated by this busy
generation.

In the spring of 1763 the great conspiracy of the North-western
Indians, headed by Pontiac, the celebrated chief, made its first
demonstration against the whites. By the influence and wisdom of Pontiac
the attack was simultaneous upon every fort and post in the West, and
the result successful for the conqueror and disastrous for the
conquered. Had the Indians possessed many chiefs endowed with the energy
and prudence of this remarkable red man, their history would not be
merely a monotonous repetition of defeat and extermination. But it was
not to be: the stars in their courses fought against Sisera. After the
massacre, the British, awakened to the power of their savage foes,
endeavored to send troops across the country to the relief of the
garrisons at Forts Pitt and Detroit, the only posts which had escaped
destruction; and in the fall of the same year a number of batteaux
loaded with troops and supplies started from Albany, by way of the
Mohawk, and after stopping at the fort on the Niagara River, entered
Lake Erie, intending to coast along the southern shore to Detroit. One
can easily imagine the scene. Six hundred regulars with their officers,
a train of artillery and supplies, and th