“What tidings are these borne on the breeze?” asked Netnokwa, “Shawanee brave, think not now of a maiden, but gather your men, and receive the runner.”
“I will,” said Tecumseh, as he hurried off, “return to thy bower;—I will tell thee the tidings.” A moment passed, the warriors were assembled in council, and the runner introduced. Addressing himself to Tecumseh, he stated that he left a band of Indians assembled on the Wabash, who were so excited against the whites on account of a murder recently committed, that he feared they would make a sudden irruption upon the settlements, and call down the force of the whites before the Indians were ready to oppose them. That being apprised of this, he had stolen away to tell it to the chiefs of the Shawanees, and see what they in their wisdom would do.
At the close of this speech the air resounded with yells of vengeance. When they had died away, and silence was again restored,—“where gather our brothers” said Tecumseh, “and what are their number.”
“They are assembling on the forks of the Wabash,” said the runner, “and warriors are gathering like pigeons at a roost.”
“This must be stopped,” said Tecumseh, “our fathers who have gone to the world of spirits, shall have more white men to wait upon them. But the time has not yet come; a little while longer, and the war whoop shall ring.”
Again the yell of savage delight broke forth; each warrior rose upon his feet, brandished aloft his glittering tomahawk, and made it whistle as rapidly he moved his arm through the air.
“Silence!”—cried a voice which had something in it of an unearthly sound; they were hushed as still as the grave, and the Prophet rose.
“Warriors, listen; it is the chosen of the Great Spirit who speaks to you. We are not ready for battle. When we strike, all the red men must know it. We must move like a great flood over the land. We are now but a small stream. Our brothers on the Wabash must be calm. They must suffer a little longer if they wish to see our rivers run red with the blood of the whites. Tecumseh, hurry away, and tell them the time has not yet come. They must disperse. It is the Prophet of the Great Spirit who commands it.”
He then seated himself, and Tecumseh, making no reply, for the words of the Prophet were by his followers deemed as unchangeable as the laws of the Medes and Persians, the council then adjourned.
“But stay,” said Tecumseh, addressing his warriors, “what will become of Netnokwa and her daughter?”