Listen! There lived an Indian—a sachem of the powerful and warlike Shawnees; an Indian who loved his wild people, his wild land, and his wild freedom dearer than his life, and for their defense and weal he labored, and fought and died. Why and how, and to what end—listen!
The sachem looked around him. He saw his people, wasted to but the shadow of what they once were, slowly moving toward the setting sun. He saw them at deadly strife one with another—tribe with tribe, and kindred with kindred. He marked how they were falling away from the sober lives and pure faith of their fathers, and losing their wild independence in the slothful and corrupting habits of vagabond existence. He beheld his native wilderness gradually waning as from before a slow-approaching, far-extended fire. In terror at the sight, the animals of the chase, so needful to man in the savage state, went flitting by, outstripping his people in their journey toward the setting sun.
The sachem looked far forth toward the regions of the rising sun, and there beheld the civilized and powerful white man, whose star of empire was leading him onward in his resistless progress toward the mighty rivers and the boundless plains of the far West—the land of the future. The powerful stranger laid his hand upon the woody hills, and they smoked; he set his foot upon the grassy plains, and they withered. He lifted the hand of violence against the red sons of the forest, and they fled; he breathed upon them, and they became diseased, corrupt, and feeble; he sowed the seeds of strife among them, and straightway they fell to wrangling and warring one with another, more fiercely than ever before; he stretched his long arm over their heads and thrust his terrible sword into the heart of their wilderness, now here, now there, saying: "This pleasant valley is mine, here will I make my dwelling-place; this fertile plain is mine, it shall yield me riches; this broad river is mine, it shall be a highway between my great towns. Then, westward, red man, farther westward; nor think of rest, while you have the setting sun and this fair land before you!" Still onward and westward the white man held his ever-widening, overwhelming course. A little while and the red man should not have in all the green earth where to lay his weary head and say: "This is my home—here dwelt my fathers before me, and here they be buried; here with them shall I rest when my race is run." The sachem saw all this, and his mighty spirit was stirred within him.
"The Shemanols,"[1] said the sachem to his people, "have united their seventeen great fires[2] into one, and the union has made them strong and happy. We must profit by the example. I will go forth among the tribes of red men, and by the help of the Great Spirit unite them into one people; make of them a dam to stay the flow of this mighty water, lest it utterly sweep away our forest and cast us like driftwood, broken and scattered, on the far-off shores beneath the setting sun. We have warned the white stranger to come no farther, but have spoken to the winds that hear not; we have entreated him to come no farther, but have prayed to the rocks that feel not. Then, let him come. I see his warriors in the east, in the south, in the north, and in numbers like the leaves of the forest when rolling and rustling before the blasts of autumn. Shall the sachem of the Shawnees tremble? Shall they say he hated the foe of his race and feared him? I too have my warriors, strong and brave and true; and many a forest and mountain and plain, left us by our fathers, have we still behind us and around us. Then let us stand up like men and defend them. Or, if fall we must, at least then here, where lie our fathers, let us leave our bones to cry out against the destroyer of our race, and our dust to poison the air his children shall breathe. If such must be our fate, it is well. Wahcoudah's will be done!"
[1] The Shawnese for Americans.
[2] The seventeen States of the Union.
Then did the sachem gird up his loins and go forth, like a strong man armed for the battle. Verily, it was a vast enterprise, difficult and hazardous—all but hopeless; but his spirit, strong to endure and brave to encounter, rose with it. From the great lakes of the North to the flowery forests of the far South, from the great hills of the East to the grassy plains of the far West, month after month, year after year, from hopeful youth to sober prime, he roamed the wilderness. Everywhere he called upon his countrymen to cease from warring among themselves and unite their tribes, that as one people they might stand up in the defense of their native land, given them by the Master of Life to be the one home and common possession of them all.
To impress their minds with the necessity of such a league he held up before them the example of their white invaders, who had united all their "great fires" into one, and in that union had found strength, harmony, and prosperity. He appealed to every sentiment in human nature that can rouse to high and noble purpose—the love of country, of kindred, of freedom, of glory. He flattered their pride with glowing allusions to the antiquity and renown of their race, and by repeating to them their traditions which described them as having once been the favorite children of the Great Spirit, and again to be taken under his peculiar care whenever they should return to the bosom of their ancient brotherhood, and to the sober, simple habits and the pure faith of their fathers. He roused their resentment and the desire of vengeance by holding up to them the wrongs which they had suffered at the hands of the proud and powerful pale-face, whose presence in their midst had grown insupportable, and whose onward progress, unless cheeked at once, would soon become irresistible. He threatened them with disgrace, poverty, and ruin—yea, the final extinction of their race, which would assuredly be visited upon them, should they neglect or delay to profit by his warning.
His labors grew upon him, yet wearied him not; disappointments baffled his endeavors, but discouraged him not; difficulties met him at every step, but turned him not aside; dangers thickened around him, but daunted him not; untoward conjunctures confused and enfeebled his vast scheme, but shook not the constant purpose of his mind; friends dissuaded, rivals opposed, enemies threatened, traitors undermined—still the heroic sachem, unshaken, undismayed, unsubdued, maintained his course onward and upward in the high destiny which long years before he had marked out for himself, and his trust was in the Great Spirit.
When he first set out on his great mission, this wandering patriot of the wilderness found the minds of his countrymen we cowed with fear, or so benumbed with indifference as to their fate, that there was scarcely a man among them all, outside his own near kindred, to lend him an ear, or join him in his self-imposed, herculean labor. But toward the end, when every hill and valley, plain and forest, river and lake of the great North-west had been made to resound full many a year with the echoes of that awakening voice, behold the result. Persuaded that their hour of deliverance and vengeance was come at last, thousands of the tawny warriors of the wilderness, drawn from the numerous tribes which he had succeeded in uniting, came flocking around him, ready to do his bidding, as one commissioned by the Great Spirit to be their leader and deliverer. Never, since their first landing on the Continent, had the whites beheld arrayed against them, by the energy and power of one mind, a league of the Indian tribes so formidable and wide-spread.