"No, no, Tecumseh! I have always remembered you and Elskwatawa, my true-hearted brothers—"
"Tecumseh does not blame his white brother for returning to his white kindred. There is no enmity between us. But Elskwatawa our brother has become a communer with the Great Spirit, and he has told the redman how evil are the customs and food and firewater of the white man. It is evil for the redman to mingle with the white people."
"Have you then taken the warpath, my brother? Is that why you came out against us in war paint?" I asked.
"We came out to attack you because we had need of powder, and I would not beg. But we are not on the warpath."
"You are far from home," I remarked.
He swept his hand around in a grand gesture. "Elskwatawa the Prophet and I make a great journey to our red cousins. We visit all the tribes from the Great Lakes to that greater water in the South which the white people call the Gulf."
"To form a great conspiracy against my people!" I exclaimed.
"Your people!" he repeated. "No, we seek to convince the tribes of my people that they are all brothers, and should join in one nation."
"That they may seek to destroy the white people!"
"That they may hold back the white man from stealing any more of their land."