Elkswatawa

by James Strange French

This resolution was no sooner formed, than he bent his steps towards the excited crowd, and mingling with them, became one of the council. He first looked round to see if he could discover the dreaded Prophet, but he saw no one whom he could identify as such. He heard nothing but bitter curses and denunciations against the whites; rage and fury filled the breasts of all, and they were crying out to be led on to battle. His own passions were kindled by the hoarse breathings of vengeance around him, and never was there a more excited multitude. They counted not numbers, they questioned not success; they were burning with vengeance, and only anxious to quench it at once in the blood of the whites.

Elkswatawa had now a difficult part to play. He had raised a storm which he could not control; he had excited his followers until they were lost to reason, and now, like raging beasts, were chafing against their bounds in order to get loose. This was what he apprehended, when he urged Tecumseh to take some decisive step before his departure for the south. He, himself, was burning with rage; his soul writhed with agony when he saw the fires of his enemies under the walls of his town, and not one of the crowd was more anxious for immediate battle than himself. But then there were many reasons why peace, if attainable at any sacrifice, should still be preserved. He had promised Tecumseh, who absent, was now labouring for the common cause, that no act on the part of the whites, should force the Indians to hostilities. His town, though strongly fortified, contained only his own immediate followers, and they were far less numerous than the army before them. The warriors of the confederacy he had formed, were entirely ignorant of his situation, and to hazard a battle now, was not to avail himself of the power he really possessed; but it was to place his success upon a single chance, where the odds were greatly against him. Aware of all this, he had sent messengers, with professions of peace, to General Harrison while on his march; and still, with the hope of obtaining it, had, on the arrival of the American army, renewed his professions, and expressed a willingness to meet the whites in council on the following day, when he would accede to all their demands. This, for the reasons before stated, was now his determination, and nerving himself for the crisis, he resolved to oppose the calls which his followers were clamorously making to be led on against the whites.

Rising in council, Elkswatawa urged to them the reasons why peace should be preserved. He reminded them of his promise to Tecumseh; he told them of the impropriety of striking without the aid of their brothers of other tribes; he called their attention to the fact, that the American army was greatly superior to them in numbers, and dwelt upon the evil consequences which would result from their being beaten. He unfolded to them his plans; he showed them the necessity there was, that success beyond a doubt, should crown their first effort,—again urged them to peace,—then, awaited their response.

The power of the Prophet was gone; and his arguments for procrastination were only answered with cries for vengeance and immediate battle. In Elkswatawa, they still had implicit confidence as a Prophet. He had predicted, and proclaimed to them, time after time, that success would attend them in all their exertions. He had told them that the Great Spirit would turn the balls of the whites aside, and render them harmless; and that he would give light to the Indians, while their enemies should be involved in darkness. They reminded him of this, told him that the whites were now under the walls of his town, and that the Great Spirit would, as he had promised, deliver them over into the hands of the Indians.

When Elkswatawa heard these things, he determined to refuse no longer, but to yield his consent. Without it, he saw that his character was lost, even with his own followers; and it was better to hazard a battle, and run the chance for success, than quietly to surrender without a struggle. Having come to this determination, after several attempts, he obtained silence. He then requested that a communication which he was about to make to them, should be received in silence, lest from their noise, they should indicate their intentions to the whites. All was hushed, and the Prophet then informed them that they should be led to battle, at the same time stating that the reason why he had refused at first, was that he was anxious that the red men from distant tribes should be present, to share the victory, and to see the predictions of the Prophet fulfilled. At this annunciation, there were bursts of joy, and a few half suppressed war whoops were heard, notwithstanding the positive orders which had been given to the contrary. Elkswatawa then called some of the most influential of his followers close around him, and together, they discussed the mode of attack best to be adopted. Among them, it was finally agreed, that they should meet the whites in council on the next day, lull their suspicions by acceding to all their demands, and then, at an unexpected moment, assassinate the General and commence the attack. Having resolved upon this plan, the Prophet told it to the assembled crowd, and asked if there were any persons present who would volunteer to devote themselves to death, in effecting the assassination of the general. Two warriors were heard to cry out in the affirmative, and being called, they approached and stood before the Prophet. Upon inquiry, they were both found to be members of the tribe of Pottowatamies; and upon their again renewing the wish, that the duty required should be assigned to them, they received the blessing of the Prophet, and leaving him, were soon lost in the crowd. The council was then adjourned, and the warriors ordered to disperse, in order to prepare themselves for the coming day. But it was soon manifest that they were dissatisfied; for as they hurried away, they would gather in groups, and discuss over, and over again, the plan which had been adopted. Their wishes were for a night attack; the predictions of the Prophet had induced them to regard the American camp as already their own, and they were anxious at once to be unloosed, that they might revel in the carnage of the whites.

While the council lasted, Oloompa's bosom was agitated by more contending emotions than I can describe, and when it was over he left the crowd, resolving to take part in the struggle on the coming day, and for the present to search the town, that he might learn the fate of Netnokwa and the maidens. That they had preceded him, and were now within the same walls with himself, he felt confident, and he at once began the task. He made no inquiries, fearing that were he to do so, he might excite suspicion; but wandering from cabin to cabin in a careless and indifferent manner, he examined each. The Indians, excited, were moving to and fro with hurried steps in every direction, and on this account the conduct of Oloompa, which at another time might have appeared singular, was entirely unnoticed by them.

He had now continued his search nearly throughout the town, and the disappointment consequent upon his not finding Netnokwa and her party, as he had expected, was causing him to forget the more exciting circumstances of his situation, when, as chance directed, he bent his steps toward the part of the town at which she had entered, and was proceeding to examine a single cabin which stood apart from the rest, when he was hailed by the warrior whom Kenah had left on duty. Not thinking for a moment, that Oloompa could have any definite object in wandering idly about, as he seemed to be, he called to him, to come and give a detail of the proceedings which had been adopted in council. Oloompa approached, and expressing some surprise that a warrior should have been absent from so important a meeting, learned the welcome intelligence, that his absence was owing to his having been ordered by the Prophet to stand guard over some women, who had been brought prisoners to his camp. At these tidings Oloompa's feelings fluttered with delight, for those he sought were in the cabin before him: there was the pale face maiden, in serving whom he had already encountered so many hardships, and there was Miskwa, whom he now loved more dearly than his life. These things deeply moved him, yet he was apparently calm, and began to narrate minutely to the sentinel that which had happened in council. It was all new to him, and he seemed well pleased and much excited at the struggle which was to take place on the morrow. Oloompa then elicited from him a history of his journey, together with a description of his captives, the orders of the Prophet in relation to them, and his views of the probable fate which awaited them. He learned that Kenah and his party had reached the camp without being aware that they were pursued, and had arrived by the route along which he had traced them. He also ascertained, that the red maiden was free to leave the lodge if she pleased, while her mother and the white maiden were to be strictly confined. From this circumstance he concluded, that the two latter were to be adjudged to death, and with this he recollected, that were it known that a pale face girl was in the camp, excited as the warriors now were, no exertions, however great, would be sufficient to preserve her life. Circumstances showed that there was no time to be lost, and he determined at once to act.

In the cabin now, all was quiet. A small fire was glimmering on the hearth, just enough to show that around it were grouped Netnokwa and the two maidens. They sate in deep silence, brooding over their respective situations, and despair was stamped upon the brow of each; the bosom of Gay would sometimes heave with convulsive throbs, and a slight shudder, as if she was cold, would pass over her frame. Oloompa, still continuing to converse with the sentinel, carelessly withdrew his tomahawk from his belt, and filling the bowl of it with tobacco, entered the cabin as though it were a mere matter of course, apparently for the purpose of lighting his pipe. As he entered, there was a slight stir among the females, and when they discovered that his object seemed merely to get some fire, they moved that he might approach. The light was not sufficient at first to show his features, and advancing, he made a signal for silence; then taking Miskwa's hand pressed it affectionately, and whispered in her ear the word, Oloompa;—as though she had received an electric shock, was her whole frame agitated, and then, like the sudden bursting out of the sun, when the heavens have been obscured by a dark cloud, was the change in Miskwa's countenance from despair to pleasure;—her whole face sparkled with beauty, and she returned Oloompa's recognition, yet was silent. He then proceeded to stir the fire, and while he did this, Miskwa whispered to Gay, who instantly started up and gazing wildly about her, was by Oloompa hushed into silence. With agony traced in every lineament of her face, she gazed on him, and with difficulty articulating, she uttered in a suppressed voice the words, “Where is he?”—

“Without the camp, and waiting for you,” replied Oloompa, at the same time pressing his finger to his lips, and pointing to where the sentinel stood. Gay could restrain her feelings no longer, but uttered a cry of delight; it arrested the attention of the guard, who, believing that Oloompa was frightening the maiden, called to him to come away, and let her alone; that her time would come soon enough. Oloompa whispered to Miskwa to leave the lodge and walk about in the camp. At the sound of his words, Netnokwa waked into life. He then lit his pipe, and fearing lest he should excite suspicion, was soon carelessly conversing again with the guard. The coming struggle was an exciting subject, and in it all other thoughts were apparently merged. The warrior now on duty would be relieved about midnight, and he was anxiously awaiting the time when, released from guarding women, he should begin to prepare to fight against men.

Nearly an hour had elapsed since Oloompa left the cabin, when Miskwa presented herself at the door, saying, “the daughter of Netnokwa will venture abroad in the camp; it is the Prophet's will that she should do so when she pleases.”