far and seemed to cleave the dark depths of
the river. What did this fiery messenger portend? Again a youth,
he threaded his way through the gloom of the forest, seeking the
guiding spirit of his manhood, until a bright star fell across his
path. Then, in vivid memory, came the tortures of initiation. A
man, he journeyed in strange lands beneath a scorching sun, or felt
the biting winter blasts. Again his heart beat high with hope, only
to be cast down by the crushing defeat of his plans. But still,
upborne by almost superhuman strength, urged by some strange,
impelling power, he must battle for his race. The restless river,
as it fretted the sides of the little island placed so protectingly
against the Canadian shore, sang of battle, whose outcome none
might guess. Suddenly he was aroused from his waking dream by shouts
of joy and the booming of cannon from the decks of the _General
Hunter_, which lay at anchor in the river. It was a salute in honour
of the arrival of General Brock. A vigorous cheer announced his
appearance at Fort Malden. The Indians joined in the welcome and
fired off their muskets. A boat made its way towards the island,
and the warriors crowded about it as Colonel Elliott stepped ashore.
He gave them official information of Brock's arrival, and warned
the Indians to save their scanty ammunition. Notwithstanding the
lateness of the hour, Tecumseh with his attendant chiefs accompanied
Elliott back to the fort to meet the commander in whose hands he
had placed the fate of his people. Arrived at Amherstburg, Elliott
replied to the sentry's challenge, and they entered the fort. On
reaching the room in which Brock sat, they found him deeply engrossed
in the contents of the captured mail packets, which were strewn on
the table before him, for these told him that General Hull had lost
the confidence of his garrison at Detroit, and that dissensions
had destroyed all unity of purpose among the officers. The candlelight
streamed on his red-brown hair and shone on the gold-fringed epaulets
of his scarlet uniform. Elliott at once presented Tecumseh to Brock.
The latter raised his eyes to behold 'the king of the woods,' whose
very presence seemed to exhale the freedom of the forest.

One of the best pen-portraits extant of Tecumseh is by Captain Glegg,
who thus describes him upon this occasion of his presentation to Brock:

Tecumseh was very prepossessing, his figure light and finely
proportioned, his ag