ou our
little brothers all around. You appear to be at
Greenville to serve the Supreme Ruler of the universe.
Now send forth your speeches to all our brethren far
around us, and let us unite to seek for that which
shall be for our eternal welfare, and unite ourselves
in a band of perpetual brotherhood. These, brethren,
are the sentiments of all the men who sit around you:
they all adhere to what the elder brother, the Wyandot,
has said, and these are their sentiments. It is not
that they are afraid of their white brethren, but that
they desire peace and harmony, and not that their
white brethren could put them to great necessity, for
their former arms were bows and arrows, by which they
got their living.

The Prophet then arose and launched forth into one of
the lengthy harangues so familiar to his followers. Three
years ago, he said, he had been called upon by powers he
could not disobey to follow the course which had been
revealed to him by the Great Spirit. In accordance with
this divine guidance he had earnestly endeavoured ever
since to teach the Indians how to live sober, industrious,
and peaceful lives. He had been persecuted by chiefs of
his own tribe who had refused to listen to his preaching.
He had been driven from his own village. But the Great
Spirit had directed him to this place, which the Americans
now claimed as their own, Here he desired to remain, not
for the value of the land or the natural beauty of the
surroundings, but to obey the divine command, and by his
exemplary life to prove to the complete satisfaction of
the white people his genuine honesty of purpose. By this
adroit speech the Prophet succeeded in allaying suspicion,
and thus under the guise of peace and religion Tecumseh
was enabled to continue his preparations for war. When
the council had terminated, Tecumseh, Blue Jacket,
Roundhead, and Panther accompanied the messengers to
Chillicothe, then the capital of Ohio, and assured the
governor of their peaceful intentions towards the Americans.

CHAPTER V

A GIFTED ORATOR

Indian oratory, like that of most savage races, is poetical
and picturesque in thought and expression. It abounds in
imagery and is not without touches of pathos and humour.
The unlettered Indian has no rich store of written history
from which to draw his illustrations. He takes them from
Nature's ever-open book--the sheltered lake, the winding
stream, the storm-