ACT II.

SCENE FIRST:—BEFORE THE PROPHET'S TOWN.

Enter TECUMSEH and LEFROY.

TECUMSEH. No guard or outlook—here! This is most strange. Chance reigns where prudence sleeps!

Enter a BRAVE.

Here comes a brave With frenzy in his face Where is the Prophet?

BRAVE. He fasts alone within the medicine-lodge, And talks to our Great Spirit. All our braves, Huddling in fear, stand motionless without, Thrilled by strange sounds, and voices not of earth.

TECUMSEH. How long has it been thus?

BRAVE. Four nights have passed And none have seen his face; but all have heard His dreadful tongue, in incantations deep, Fetch horrors up—vile beings flashed from hell, Who fought as devils fight, until the lodge Shook to its base with struggling, and the earth Quaked as, with magic strength, he flung them down. These strove with him for mastery of our fate; But, being foiled, Yohewa has appeared, And, in the darkness of our sacred lodge, Communes with him.

TECUMSEH. Our Spirit great and good! He comes not here for nought. What has he promised?

BRAVE. Much! for henceforth we are invulnerable. The bullets of the Long-Knives will rebound, Like petty hailstones, from our naked breasts; And, in the misty morns of our attack, Strange lights will shine on them to guide our aim, Whilst clouds of gloom will screen us from their sight.

TECUMSEH. The Prophet is a wise interpreter, And all his words, by valour backed, will stand; For valour is the weapon of the soul, More dreaded by our vaunting enemies Than the plumed arrow, or the screaming ball. What wizardry and witchcraft has he found Conspiring 'gainst our people's good?

BRAVE. Why, none! Wizard and witch are weeded out, he says; Not one is left to do us hurt.

TECUMSEH. 'Tis well! My brother has the eyeball of the horse, And swerves from danger. (Aside.) Bid our warriors come! I wait them here.

[Exit BRAVE.]

The Prophet soon will follow.

LEFROY. Now opportunity attend my heart Which waits for Iena! True love's behest, Outrunning war's, will bring her to my arms Ere cease the braves from gasping wonderment.

TECUMSEH. First look on service ere you look on love; You shall not see her here.

LEFROY. My promises Are sureties of my service—

TECUMSEH. But your deeds, Accomplishments; our people count on deeds. Be patient! Look upon our warriors Roped round with scars and cicatrized wounds, Inflicted in deep trial of their spirit Their skewered sides are proofs of manly souls, Which—had one groan escaped from agony— Would all have sunk beneath our women's heels, Unfit for earth or heaven. So try your heart, And let endurance swallow all love's sighs. Yoke up your valour with our people's cause, And I, who love your nation, which is just, When deeds deserve it, will adopt you here, By ancient custom of our race, and join Iena's hand to yours.

LEFROY. Your own hand first In pledge of this!

TECUMSEH. It ever goes with truth!

LEFROY. Now come some wind of chance, and show me her But for one heavenly moment! as when leaves Are blown aside in summer, and we see The nested oriole.

[Enter Chiefs and warriors—The warriors cluster around TECUMSEH, shouting and discharging their pieces.]

TECUMSEH. My chiefs and braves!

MIAMI CHIEF. Fall back! Fall back! Ye press too close on him.

TECUMSEH. My friends! our joy is like to meeting streams, Which draw into a deep and prouder bed.

[Shouts from the warriors.]

DELAWARE CHIEF. Silence, ye braves! let great Tecumseh speak!

[The warriors fall back.]

TECUMSEH. Comrades, and faithful warriors of our race! Ye who defeated Hartnar and St Clair, And made their hosts a winter's feast for wolves! I call on you to follow me again, Not now for war, but as forearmed for fight. As ever in the past so is it still: Our sacred treaties are infringed and torn; Laughed out of sanctity, and spurned away; Used by the Long-Knife's slave to light his fire, Or turned to kites by thoughtless boys, whose wrists Anchor their fathers' lies in front of heaven. And now we're asked to Council at Vincennes; To bend to lawless ravage of our lands, To treacherous bargains, contracts false, wherein One side is bound, the other loose as air! Where are those villains of our race and blood Who signed the treaties that unseat us here; That rob us of rich plains and forests wide; And which, consented to, will drive us hence To stage our lodges in the Northern Lakes, In penalties of hunger worse than death? Where are they? that we may confront them now With your wronged sires, your mothers, wives and babes, And, wringing from their false and slavish lips Confession of their baseness, brand with shame The traitor hands which sign us to our graves.

MIAMI CHIEF. Some are age-bent and blind, and others sprawl, And stagger in the Long-Knife's villages; And some are dead, and some have fled away, And some are lurking in the forest here, Sneaking, like dogs, until resentment cools.

KICKAPOO CHIEF. We all disclaim their treaties. Should they come, Forced from their lairs by hunger, to our doors, Swift punishment will light upon their heads.

TECUMSEH. Put yokes upon them! let their mouths be bound! For they are swine who root with champing jaws Their fathers' fields, and swallow their own offspring.

Enter the PROPHET in his robe—his face discoloured.

The Prophet! Welcome, my brother, from the lodge of dreams! Hail to thee, sagest among men—great heir Of all the wisdom of Pengasega!

PROPHET. This pale-face here again! this hateful snake, Who crawls between our people and their laws! (Aside.) Your greeting, brother, takes the chill from mine, When last we parted you were not so kind.

TECUMSEH. The Prophet's wisdom covers all. He knows Why Nature varies in her handiwork, Moulding one man from snow, the next from fire—

PROPHET. Which temper is your own, and blazes up, In winds of passion like a burning pine.

TECUMSEH. 'Twill blaze no more unless to scorch our foes. My brother, there's my hand—for I am grieved That aught befell to shake our proper love. Our purpose is too high, and full of danger; We have too vast a quarrel on our hands To waste our breath on this.

[Steps forward and offers his hand.]

PROPHET. My hand to yours.

SEVERAL CHIEFS. Tecumseh and the Prophet are rejoined!

TECUMSEH. Now, but one petty cloud distains our sky. My brother, this man loves our people well.

[Pointing to LEFROY.]

LEFROY. I know he hates me, yet I hope to win My way into his heart.

PROPHET. There—take my hand! I must dissemble. Would this palm were poison! (Aside.) (To TECUMSEH) What of the Wyandots? And yet I know! I have been up among the clouds, and down Into the entrails of the earth, and seen The dwelling-place of devils. All my dreams Are from above, and therefore favour us.

TECUMSEH. With one accord the Wyandots disclaim The treaties of Fort Wayne, and burn with rage. Their tryst is here, and some will go with me To Council at Vincennes. Where's Winnemac?

MIAMI CHIEF. That recreant has joined our enemies, And with the peace-pipe sits beside their fire, And whins away our lives.

KICKAPOO CHIEF. The Deaf-Chief, too, With head awry, who cannot hear us speak Though thunder shouted for us from the skies, Yet hears the Long-Knives whisper at Vincennes; And, when they jest upon our miseries, Grips his old leathern sides, and coughs with laughter.

DELAWARE CHIEF. And old Kanaukwa—famed when we were young— Has hid his axe, and washed his honours off.

TECUMSEH. 'Tis honor he has parted with, not honors; Good deeds are ne'er forespent, nor wiped away. I know these men; they've lost their followers, And, grasping at the shadow of command, Where sway and custom once had realty, By times, and turn about, follow each other. They count for nought—but Winnemac is true, Though over-politic; he will not leave us.

PROPHET. Those wizened snakes must be destroyed at once!

TECUMSEH. Have mercy, brother—those poor men are old.

PROPHET. Nay, I shall teaze them till they sting themselves; Their rusty fangs are doubly dangerous.

TECUMSEH. What warriors are ready for Vincennes?

WARRIORS. All! All are ready. Tecumseh leads us on—we follow him.

TECUMSEH. Four hundred warriors will go with me, All armed, yet only for security Against the deep designs of Harrison. For 'tis my purpose still to temporize, Not break with him in war till once again I scour the far emplacements of our tribes. Then shall we close at once on all our foes. They claim our lands, but we shall take their lives; Drive out their thievish souls, and spread their bones To bleach upon the misty Alleghanies; Or make death's treaty with them on the spot, And sign our bloody marks upon their crowns For lack of schooling—ceding but enough Of all the lands they covet for their graves.

MIAMI CHIEF. Tecumseh's tongue is housed in wisdom's cheeks; His valour and his prudence march together.

DELAWARE CHIEF. 'Tis wise to draw the distant nations on. This scheme will so extend the Long-Knife force, In lines defensive stretching to the sea, Their bands will be but morsels for our braves.

PROPHET. How long must this bold project take to ripen? Time marches with the foe, and his surveyors Already smudge our forests with their fires. It frets my blood and makes my bowels turn To see those devils blaze our ancient oaks, Cry "right!" and drive their rascal pickets down. Why not make war on them at once?

TECUMSEH. Not now! Time will make room for weightier affairs. Be this the disposition for the hour: Our warriors from Vincennes will all return, Save twenty—the companions of my journey— And this brave white, who longs to share our toil, And win his love by deeds in our defence. You, brother, shall remain to guard our town, Our wives, our children, all that's dear to us— Receive each fresh accession to our strength; And from the hidden world, which you inspect, Draw a divine instruction for their souls. Go, now, ye noble chiefs and warriors! Make preparation—I'll be with you soon. To-morrow we shall make the Wabash boil, And beat its current, racing to Vincennes.

[Exeunt all but TECUMSEH and the PROPHET.]

PROPHET. I shall return unto our sacred lodge, And there invoke the Spirit of the Wind To follow you, and blow good tidings back.

TECUMSEH. Our strait is such we need the help of heaven. Use all your wisdom, brother, but—beware! Pluck not our enterprise while it is green, And breed no quarrel here till I return. Avoid it as you would the rattling snake; And, when you hear the sound of danger, shrink, And face it not, unless with belts of peace. White wampum, not the dark, till we can strike With certain aim. Can I depend on you?

PROPHET. Trust you in fire to burn, or cold to freeze? So may you trust in me. The heavy charge Which you have laid upon my shoulders now Would weigh the very soul of rashness down.

[Exit the PROPHET.]

TECUMSEH. I think I can depend on him—I must! Yet do I know his crafty nature well— His hatred of our foes, his love of self, And wide ambition. What is mortal man? Who can divine this creature that doth take Some colour from all others? Nor shall I Push cold conclusions 'gainst my brother's sum Of what is good—so let dependence rest!

[Exit.]