[_Kneels_.]




SCENE FIFTH.--AN OPEN SPACE IN THE FOREST NEAR THE
PROPHET'S TOWN. A FIRE OF BILLETS BURNING. WAR CRIES
ARE HEARD FROM THE TOWN.


_Enter the_ PROPHET.

PROPHET. My spells do work apace! Shout yourselves
hoarse,
Ye howling ministers by whom I climb!
For this I've wrought until my weary tongue,
Blistered with incantation, flags in speech,
And half declines its office. Every brave
Inflamed by charms and oracles, is now
A vengeful serpent, who will glide ere morn
To sting the Long-Knife's sleeping camp to death.
Why should I hesitate? My promises!
My duty to Tecumseh! What are these
Compared with duty here? Where I perceive
A near advantage, there my duty lies;
Consideration strong which overweighs
All other reason. Here is Harrison--
Trepanned to dangerous lodgment for the night--
Each deep ravine which grooves the prairie's breast