Opawana knew he must defer to his younger cousin, but he didn’t like it. Otussa was wrong, and his poor judgment was going to get warriors killed.
The first thing the French did after they built the stockade they called Fort St. Louis, on top of the one-hundred-foot-tall rock, was clear the trees for over two hundred yards around the base to create an open field of fire. And the Illini had had the good sense to burn what brush had grown up since the French abandoned the place. Only one old white ash stood taller than Le Rocher. A skinny young warrior climbed all the way to the thin branches swaying in the sky. His report was, “At least one hundred Illini warriors on top guard against incursion up the path or along the perimeter. Warriors entering the burnt ground will be very easy targets.”
There were only two ways up—climb the cliffs or rush up the path. Neither option was good. If they scaled the cliff, the warriors climbing would be unable to fight back and easily killed. Without the concealment unburned brush would have given, warriors below could not even provide covering fire.
Otussa elected direct assault under the cover of darkness. It would make his warriors harder targets, but darkness would also make it impossible to offer any covering fire. Opawana counseled for siege—wait them out. But Otussa wanted this done, just like the destruction of the villages, in one irresistible rush. But the rush would not be irresistible and Opawana knew it.
Still Otussa insisted on his plan. The Illinois River had, in millennia of floods, cut the soft sandstone away under the river side of Le Rocher, creating an overhang along the face. Between the overhang and the river there was a small beach created by the alluvial soil deposited with each spring flood. The Ottawa and most of their allies had traveled on foot. But a few allies, chiefly the Chippewa, had arrived in canoes. Those were pulled up along that shore and Otussa had some of the warriors with them camp under the overhang to prevent any escape from that direction. The remainder of Le Rocher was surrounded by warriors hiding back in the tree line. During the assault, their main job was to prevent escape. Annihilation was to be complete. No Illini would ever be able to brag of Pontiac’s death.
Otussa would lead the bulk of his warriors in rushing the path. Even with the path’s zigzag up the cliff, a warrior could run from the bottom to the top in less than a minute. It would be very risky for those in front, but the defenders at the top of the path could reload their muskets no more than two times during that run. In the dark they not only would fire inaccurately but could not find targets easily or quickly. They would get off only one or two shots before they were overwhelmed. Otussa would lose a few warriors but destroy the defenders in one rush. That was his plan.
Tonight, there would be a quarter moon. It would provide enough light for a running warrior to see the path as well as enough for his tomahawk to strike accurately once he reached the top. But it would not be enough for the defenders to see targets clearly or aim well at them. This would be the night.
“Every fire is to be built large. Even though we will not eat before the fight, we will go through all the motions of a normal camp. We want the rush to be a surprise. Every warrior covering the escape routes will place himself quietly. Those rushing to glory will arm themselves quietly. The Illini will have no hint we are coming until I scream the charge. We will be taking scalps in less than two minutes after my war cry.”
Those were Otussa’s orders. Opawana had argued forcefully in private, but it was Otussa who led this war party. Opawana would not dispute with him before the others, and Otussa would not give in to his cousin. He would have this his way.