“Where shall we find a Prophet?” said Tecumseh. “Shall I turn Prophet?”
“No, brother; you are wise above most of the red men in the gift of speech. Your words flow sweet as honey from the hive. But you cannot dissemble. I can. I am the Prophet, you are my convert, and as such, must paint to them what they were before the stranger came among them, and make their misfortunes a judgment from the Great Spirit on account of their dissensions and evil deeds. Tell them how they may wipe it away; but above all, talk to them of the glory of their fathers; tell them that their spirits are unhappy in their hunting grounds; talk to them of days that are gone; when the children of the sun were masters of the world; then change the scene, and dwell upon their present condition. Preach to them peace, aye, peace; yet make them dream of war and of vengeance, and cry for their lands which have been taken away. This must you do, and you must have no home; let your wanderings be from the big lakes to the setting sun, from where the ‘Father of waters’ takes its rise, even unto the far south; wherever an Indian fire burns, there must be heard the voice of Tecumseh.”
“And thou art the Prophet.”
“I am. This very night shall the Great Spirit hold a talk with me, and to-morrow will I tell it to the red men. Then will I be troubled, and fast, and sleep in the forest; and the Great Spirit shall again appear to me, and again will I preach, and again, and again, until anxiety shall appear in every face, and wandering about each one shall ask, ‘what is the matter?’ Thou thyself must wonder and disbelieve; let time intervene, then be convinced; commence thy wanderings, and support as thou knowest how my doctrines. For our tribe alone, at first will we labour; having gained a mastery over that, and bound it to us by fetters which none but the wise know how to forge, then will we commence the campaign.”
“Hast thou studied thy character?” inquired Tecumseh. “The power of a Prophet is great when established, loud in its voice as the rolling thunder, fatal in its decrees, as the forked lightning; yet, in its origin, 'tis but the gush of a fountain, or the twig of a tree.”
“I have. Philip and Pontiac endeavoured to do what we intend; they failed, yet the earth trembled under their operations. I have studied their histories. Many Prophets have arisen in days past and been for a time all powerful. I have considered their plans, I have learned their tricks, their deceptions, their practices; gathering something from all I will perfect my character, and form my medicine bag, and with it will I trouble the red men, and they shall know no quiet until the same spirit animates every wandering tribe.”
“And to-morrow thou beginnest?”
“To night I have a vision, to-morrow I tell it.”
“Shall our purpose be known to a living soul?”
“No;” said Elkswatawa, “not yet; bury it deep, deep in the ground.”