Like other great generals, Tecumseh gave close attention to details. He invented a calendar showing the exact day on which they were to strike the white settlements. This he did by making little bundles of sticks painted red. Each bundle contained sticks equal to the number of days that would pass before the one arrived which he had indicated to them. Every morning they were to throw away a stick. Thus it was that the Seminoles, in the war which followed, became widely known under the name of "Red Sticks." Tecumseh also directed the Indians, that should the question be asked, why he had come so far? to answer, that he had advised them to till the soil, to abstain from the use of "firewater," and to live peacefully with the white people.
At Tuckabatchee, Alabama, Tecumseh addressed the council of the Creek nation, but met a silent opponent in the principal chief, Big Warrior. He at once divined the feelings of this chief. Angrily stamping his foot on the ground, he looked into the eyes of Big Warrior and said: "Your blood is white. You have taken my talk and the sticks, and the wampum, and the hatchet, but you do not mean to fight. I know the reason. You do not believe the Great Spirit has sent me. You shall know. I leave Tuckabatchee directly and shall go straight to Detroit; when I arrive there, I will stamp on the ground with my foot and shake down every house in Tuckabatchee." This was a wild threat, and Big Warrior was dumbfounded. He and his people were superstitious and began to dread Tecumseh's arrival at Detroit. They often met, talked over the strange affair, and actually tried to compute the time it would take the great chieftain to reach that town. When the morning of the day fixed upon arrived, an awful rumbling of the ground was heard; the earth began to shake and down came the flimsy lodges. The frantic Indians ran to and fro shouting: "Tecumseh has got to Detroit!" The threat had been fulfilled and the warriors no longer hesitated to go to war with the great leader.
All this was produced by the historical earthquake of New Madrid, on the Mississippi. Strange as it may seem, it is said to have taken place the very day Tecumseh reached Detroit, and in exact fulfillment of his threat.
During the absence of Tecumseh in the South, the Indians at Prophet's Town were so warlike and aggressive that Governor Harrison determined to march to that place and settle the difficulties with the Indians, or break up their rendezvous.
Accordingly, on September 26, 1811, at the head of nine hundred troops, he started on this expedition. Six days afterward the army encamped on the eastern bank of the Wabash, two miles above the present bustling city of Terre Haute. Here a log fort was constructed, and named by the soldiers Fort Harrison.
Leaving a small guard at the new fort, the troops advanced along the east bank of the Wabash, until they passed Big Raccoon Creek. Here it was determined to cross to the other side of the river, to avoid a dense woody shore, where there was danger of ambush. This was effected at a point near the town of Montezuma, Indiana. Advancing still further, at the mouth of the Vermilion River he built a block-house to protect his boats and heavy baggage, and proceeded thence to the immediate vicinity of the Prophet's town. He was desirous of attacking this as soon as possible, because he knew that Tecumseh might return any day.
The army encamped for the night about three-quarters of a mile from the Prophet's town on the now famous Tippecanoe battleground, seven miles northeast of the city of Lafayette. The place was a beautiful spot of timber-land, about ten feet higher than the marshy prairie in front, which stretched away toward the Prophet's town, and nearly twice that height above a similar prairie, on the other side, across which sluggishly flowed a small stream, its course marked by willows and brushwood.
At this point he was met by ambassadors, who asked that the white men refrain from hostilities until the following day, when a peace talk could be had. Harrison, however, was too prudent to be deluded into a belief that no danger threatened. The army settled itself for the night in order of battle, the men sleeping on their arms. Notwithstanding the truce those of the soldiers experienced in Indian warfare fully expected an attack before morning light.
Meanwhile the Indians were by no means idle. All night long the chiefs sat in council. A dozen different plans for the attack were proposed. At one time it was decided to meet the whites in council on the next day, agree to their proposals, and withdraw, leaving behind two Winnebagos, who were to rush forward and assassinate the Governor. This was to be the signal for battle. Later in the night, which was dark and rainy, the plan was changed. The Prophet, mixing some mysterious concoction of "hell-broth," pretended to read in it the fact that one-half of Harrison's army was dead and the other half crazy. Encouraged by this assurance, the whole body of warriors, at four o'clock in the morning, began to creep across the miry prairie toward the American camp.
A little after four in the morning, a sentinel who was gazing on the wide prairie before him, had his attention roused by a strange movement on its surface. Not a breath of wind was stirring, yet the tall grass was waving as if under the influence of a strong breeze. Rapidly the noiseless waves approached nearer till they broke against the rising ground at his feet. "Who goes there?" he shouted, but no voice answered. Suddenly, with the quick thought of a backwoodsman, he stooped down, and looking through and under the grass, beheld an Indian stealthily creeping toward him! He fired; in an instant a tremendous war-whoop, the nightmare of all who slept in a hostile Indian country, was heard on all sides, and the force of savage warriors rushed upon the American lines. The Indians were commanded by White Loon, Stone Eater and Winnemac, the Pottawatomie chief who had professed so much friendship for the Governor, at the time of the first council at Vincennes. The guard gave way at the point of attack, but the men who had been sleeping on their arms were immediately prepared to receive the Indians bravely. The suddenness of the attack might have created a panic even among veterans, yet the men stood their ground, though only one in twenty had ever been under fire before. But many of them were Kentuckians, and "the bravest of the brave."