Tecumseh: A Drama | Page 8

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.]
SCENE SECOND--VINCENNES--A STREET.
Enter Citizens GERKIN, SLAUGH and TWANG.
GERKIN. Ain't it about time Barron was back, Jedge?
TWANG. I reckon so. Our Guvner takes a crazy sight more?pains than I would to sweetin thet ragin' devil?Tecumseh's temper. I'd sweetin it wi' sugar o lead ef I?had my way.
SLAUGH. It's a reekin' shame--dang me ef it aint. End?thet two-faced, one-eyed brother o' his, the Prophet.--?I'll be darned ef folks don't say thet the Shakers in?them 'ere parts claims him fer a disciple!
TWANG. Them Shakers is a queer lot. They dance jest?like wild Injuns, and thinks we orter be kind to the?red rascals, end use them honestly.
GERKIN. Wall! Thet's what our Guvner ses tew. But I?reckon he's shammin' a bit Twist you and me, he's on?the make like the rest o' us. Think o' bein' kind to a?red devil thet would lift your har ten minutes arter!?End as fer honesty--I say "set 'em up" every time, and?then rob 'em. Thet's the way to clar them out o' the?kentry. Whiskey's better 'n gunpowder, end costs less?than fightin' 'em in the long run.
Enter CITIZEN BLOAT.
TWANG. Thet's so! Hello, Major, what's up? You look?kind o' riled to-day.
BLOAT. Wall, Jedge, I dew feel right mad--have you?heerd the noos?
TWANG. No! has old Sledge bust you at the keerds again?
BLOAT. Old Sledge be darned! I had jest clar'd him out?o' continentals--fifty to the shillin'--at his own?game, when in ript Roudi--the Eyetalian that knifed the?Muskoe Injun for peekin' through his bar-room winder?last spring--jest down from Fort Knox. You know the?chap, General; you was on his jury.
SLAUGH. I reckon I dew. The Court was agin him, but we?acquitted him afore the Chief-Justice finished his?charge, and gave him a vote o' thanks to boot. There's?a heap o' furriners creepin' inter these parts--poor?downtrodden cusses from Europe--end, ef they're all?like Roudi, they'll dew--a'most as hendy wi' the knife?as our own people. But what's up?
BLOAT. Roudi saw Barron at Fort Knox, restin' thar on?his way back from the Prophet's Town, end he sez thet?red assassin Tecumseh's a-cumin' down wi' four hundred?o' his painted devils to convarse wi' our Guvner.?They're all armed, he sez, end will be here afore midday.
SLAUGH. Wall! our