“Yes,” said Elkswatawa; “night after night I slept in the woods, and dreamed as no one ever dreamed before.—Seeking the red men, I begged them to listen:—they passed me by;—they heard me not. I then told the words of the Great Spirit to the trees,—to the streams. I sung them to the winds, as they moved along. The red men wondered:—I left them, and they followed me to listen.”
“And what say they?” inquired Tecumseh.
“Their hearts are troubled,” said Elkswatawa; “their ears have heard, but their eyes cannot see; they are in the dark.”
“Then our dreams of vengeance shall yet be realized,” said Tecumseh. “The white man shall tremble when the red men are one people. But to make them so, keep thy words wound up; let nobody see their meaning. When the Prophet is great, then he will tell his wishes.”
“The Prophet is wise,” said Elkswatawa. “He is a clear spring to his brother, but he is midnight to every body else. He has already troubled the red men, and the words of the Great Spirit shall ring in their ears until they know no quiet. They shall say, ‘Elkswatawa is the true Prophet, and we will do what he tells us.’ The time shall come when this is to be;—I see it in the future. And when it does come, I say, Tecumseh, the plains shall be covered with warriors, as far as the eye can reach. Their tomahawks shall glitter in the sun, and with you to lead them, they shall pass like a swelling flood over the homes of the pale faces.”
“Oh! brother,” cried Tecumseh, “it is good,—it makes my heart glad. Let it come true, and the lightning's flash shall be dark to the fires which light our path, and the rolling thunder shall not be heard, when the war-whoop rings of countless thousands. But, brother, it will take a long time. We must work hard, and many must help us. Ah! the white man little dreams of the storm which is gathering.”
“No, nor must he dream,” said Elkswatawa; “the tomahawk must lie hid, and the white man must think we will never dig it up. We must preach peace to the Indians, get power over them, and make the white man say, ‘the Prophet is good; he calms the troubled waters.’ But we want help; we must have converts, and they must go and talk to the far tribes.”
“I am already thy convert,” said Tecumseh.
“And what did the red men do,” asked Elkswatawa, “when Tecumseh said that there was no crook in the words of the Prophet.”
“They were surprised,” answered Tecumseh.—“It was like a blow they did not expect; they looked at each other, and waited for some one to speak.—I left them.”