The people of the tribe to which this celebrated man belonged were noted for "much talk" as well as for hard fighting, and Tecumseh was never at a loss for words. His appearance was always noble, his form symmetrical, his carriage erect and lofty, his motions commanding, and, under the excitement of his favorite theme of driving the American invaders from the lands of the Indians, he became a new being. When speaking upon the subject, his countenance would light up with fiery and haughty pride; his frame would swell with emotion; every posture which he assumed, and every gesture, would be eloquent with meaning. At the same time, his language would flow with glowing eloquence, as it spoke the passionate thoughts of his very soul. His manner, too, was never coarse, nor was there any show of cruelty in his disposition. He was a man of mark among the many Indians who opposed the advance of the whites into the country watered by the slow-moving Ohio.

When the treaty of Greenville was signed, this eminent redskin was about twenty-five years of age, and, secluding himself in the forests of his own country, he there lived the existence of a hunter and trapper. There is no evidence that he was in the numerous Indian forays which took place upon the frontier at this time. In fact, various stories have come down to us that exhibit his friendliness to the whites whom he met in the forest. A band of roving Shawnees often hunted with him, and, because of his ability to sway their spirits with his words and because of his prowess in hunting, he was elected chief of this small body of woodland rovers.

One day a number of Shawnees wagered Tecumseh that each of them could kill as many deer in three days of hunting as he, himself, could. "I accept your challenge," said the great chief, "and I will return here within the period with twice as many deer as any of you." So making the proper preparations that evening, he departed next morn at daybreak into the forest. Three days elapsed before any of the huntsmen came back, but at dusk of the third day since their departure all returned with their shoulders burdened with the game which had fallen by their skill. "Ugh! Ugh!" said one, "I have killed twelve. I have good my boast!" "And I thirteen," cried another. But, as he spoke, Tecumseh came into the light of the fire, staggering beneath a load of peltries. "Here are thirty deerskins," said he, depositing his bundle before the other hunters. "The carcasses are in the woods and I will go to get the haunches tomorrow."

Shortly after this the Shawnee chief entered the cabin of a white pioneer upon the frontier. This borderer was friendly to him and would often hunt with him in the dark recesses of the forest. So Tecumseh stalked in without introduction, and, with much gravity, seated himself in a rough hewn chair. A fat Kentuckian was sitting in the cabin. When he saw the noted warrior, he began to shake and tremble with fear, a fact which seemed to amuse the celebrated Indian. With a meaning glance at the owner of the cabin, Tecumseh remarked: "I have just returned from a night hunt against the palefaces. Thirty scalps hang in my wigwam, which I have secured in this expedition. But I am looking for just one more." Here he laid his hand upon his tomahawk. "And I must have this scalp before the setting of the sun," he thundered.

The Kentuckian was now ghastly pale and was trembling with fear. This seemed to please the famous Shawnee, and, walking over to him, he placed his hand upon his broad and shaking shoulder. "You are scared, are you not?" said he. "But there is no reason for it. Ugh! Ugh! I am just playing with you. I would not hurt a hair upon your head." As he spoke, his host burst into a hearty laugh, which showed the frightened borderer that an Indian could joke as well as a white man.

During this period there is no doubt that Tecumseh brooded over the fancied wrongs to the members of his own race and meditated upon some method of keeping the white settlers away from the lands of his forefathers. His brother, Elsk-wata-wa, assumed the name and functions of a prophet and reformer among the red men, established headquarters at Greenville, and told them that he had received a divine inspiration to go among them and save them from extinction. Calling himself Tensk-wata-wa, or "The Open Door," he asserted that the Great Spirit had selected him as a means of deliverance to his people. Tecumseh approved of this—his brother's course—and did all within his power to aid him in knitting together the savages into a well-organized clan. A large band of the Shawnees, Wyandots, Pottawattamies, Ottawas, Chippewas, and Kickapoos soon gathered around the Prophet, who told them that the Great Spirit, who had made the red men, was not the same as he who had produced the white men, and that all the misfortunes among their race were due to the fact that they had tried to imitate the manners of the whites. He counselled them to form a great Confederation, to live righteous lives, and to prepare themselves by drill and practice in shooting, so that, when the time came, they could show a bold front to the Americans. The Indians were seized with a great religious fever, and, burning with anger at the wrongs which they considered that the whites had heaped upon their race, were soon in a condition of mind which needed very little to flame into the passion of war.

The Commissioner from the United States to the Ohio country, and the Governor of this territory, was General Harrison, a man of cool judgment and excellent military genius. His headquarters were at Fort Wayne, in the present state of Indiana, although he had a frontier post at Vincennes. His border troops were not equal in numbers to the great body of redskins in the surrounding country, but they were well armed, well equipped, and ready for any emergency. In 1809 this able American General concluded a treaty between the Delawares, Miamis and Pottawattamies at Fort Wayne, in which the Indians ceded to the United States Government a tract of land extending for sixty miles along the Wabash River, above Vincennes. The treaty was made during the absence of Tecumseh upon a visit to a neighboring tribe, and without either his advice or knowledge. None of his followers, or those of the Prophet, were present during the transaction. For this reason, and because he considered that the Indians had given up too much of their land, Tecumseh was furiously angry, and threatened to kill the chiefs who had signed the treaty, saying: "The Americans can never survey this land, for I shall kill them if they attempt to do it. It is wrong to give away all of our possessions, and, if our people continue to do so, there will be nothing left for the red men."

This was fierce talk, but for many months Tecumseh had endeavored to form a great confederation of the Western tribes, similar to that of Pontiac. The Western Indians had been enemies for centuries, so that it was a herculean task to bring them together in bonds of friendship. Yet the astute Tecumseh visited the Creeks in the far South, and secured the friendship of Weatherford, or Red Eagle; the tribes living upon the farthest extremity of Lake Superior; and those who camped far beyond the muddy waters of the Mississippi. For four years he pushed through the wilderness, sometimes in a canoe, and sometimes on foot, making his camp among the roving bands of redskins, or alone in the solitude of the forest. Everywhere he would hold conferences and long pow-wows with the chiefs of the Western tribes and would warn them that, unless they joined with him and his brother—the Prophet—in a mighty confederacy, the whites would soon come from the East in overwhelming numbers, and would completely cover the land then held by the red men. "You must make a stand, or your children will be without hunting grounds," he would say. "Rise, O red men, rise to defend your homes from invasion by the whites!" These appeals were not in vain; the redskins prepared for hostilities under his leadership; and in 1810 it was said that he controlled more than sixteen hundred warriors, who were fully prepared for a long campaign.

This activity of Tecumseh and the Prophet gave Governor Harrison serious alarm, and he wrote of his fears to the Government at Washington, requesting more men and more arms upon the frontier. He even called Tecumseh before him, and said: