“Douglas, will you and the Wyandot accompany Captain Dubois, as interpreters?”
“Of course, governor,” Ross replied cheerfully.
“Be off, then—and note carefully all you see and hear. Captain, obtain a positive answer from the Prophet, whether he will comply with the terms I have so often proposed. Have a care that you don’t get cut off from the army.”
Taking with him several soldiers and the two interpreters, Captain Dubois set out for the town. The army moved slowly after, in order of battle.
When the captain and his comrades were within a mile of the town, they encountered a large body of Indians. The interpreters tried to open communication with them, but the treacherous savages gave no heed to repeated hails. All the while they circled around the little band of whites, attempting to separate them from their friends in the rear.
“It’s useless and dangerous to proceed further,” the captain exclaimed angrily. “Brown,” addressing a soldier, “go back to the governor and inform him of our want of success, and of the perilous position we occupy.”
On receiving the word from his peace messenger, Harrison set his teeth and said firmly:
“I’ve done with the Prophet’s dillydallying; I’ll treat him as an enemy. Recall Captain Dubois and his men, and order the entire army to advance at a brisk pace. If the Indians don’t come out to treat with me, I’ll attack their town at once.”
In a few minutes Dubois and his comrades had rejoined the command. An animated scene presented itself to their gaze. Orderlies were galloping hither and thither; officers were giving hurried commands; and regulars and militiamen were exchanging oaths and jokes, as they stood in line, awaiting the order to advance. Every man thought an engagement imminent—and was depressed or elated at the prospect, according to his temperament.
“Forward!”