But fill my cold and empty cabin first With light and heat! You know I love your niece, And have the promise of her hand to-night.

PROPHET. She shall be yours!

(_To the braves_)

Go bring her here at once--But, look! Fulfilment of my promise comes In her own person.

_Enter_ IENA _and_ MAMATEE.

Welcome, my sweet niece! You have forestalled my message by these braves, And come unbidden to your wedding place.

IENA. Uncle! you know my heart is far away--

PROPHET. But still your hand is here! this little hand!

(_Pulling her forward_)

IENA. Dare you enforce a weak and helpless girl, Who thought to move you by her misery?

Stand back! I have a message for you too.

What means the war-like song, the dance of braves, And bustle in our town?

PROPHET. It means that we Attack the foe to-night.

IENA. And risk our all?

O that Tec.u.mseh knew! his soul would rush In arms to intercept you. What! break faith, And on the hazard of a doubtful strife, Stake his great enterprise and all our lives!

The dying curses of a ruined race Will wither up your wicked heart for this!

PROPHET. False girl! your heart is with our foes; Your hand I mean to turn to better use.

IENA. Oh, could it turn you from your mad intent How freely would I give it! Drop this scheme, Dismiss your frenzied warriors to their beds; And, if contented with my hand, Tarhay Can have it here.

TARHAY. I love you, Iena!

IENA. Then must you love what I do! Love our race!

'Tis this love nerves Tec.u.mseh to unite Its scattered tribes--his fruit of n.o.ble toil, Which you would s.n.a.t.c.h unripened from his hand, And feed to sour ambition. Touch it not-- Oh, touch it not Tarhay! and though my heart Breaks for it, I am yours.

PROPHET. His anyway, Or I am not the Prophet!

TARHAY. For my part I have no leaning to this rash attempt, Since Iena consents to be my wife.

PROPHET. Shall I be thwarted by a yearning fool!

_(Aside.)_

This soft, sleek girl, to outward seeming good, I know to be a very fiend beneath-- Whose sly affections centre on herself, And feed the gliding snake within her heart.

TARHAY. I cannot think her so--

MAMATEE. She is not so!

There is the snake that creeps among our race; Whose venomed fangs would bite into our lives, And poison all our hopes.

PROPHET. She is the head-- The very neck of danger to me here, Which I must break at once! (_aside_) Tarhay--attend! I can see dreadful visions in the air; I can dream awful dreams of life and fate; I can bring darkness on the heavy earth; I can fetch shadows from our fathers' graves, And spectres from the sepulchres of h.e.l.l Who dares dispute with me, disputes with death! Dost hear, Tarhay?

[TARHAY and braves cower before the PROPHET.]

TARHAY. I hear, and will obey. Spare me! Spare me!

PROPHET. As for this foolish girl, The hand she offers you on one condition, I give to you upon a better one;

And, since she has no mind to give her heart Which, rest a.s.sured, is in her body st.i.ty There,--take it at my hands!

_Flings_ IENA _violently toward_ TARHAY, _into whose arms she falls fainting, and is then borne away by_ MAMATEE.

(_To_ TARHAY.) Go bring the braves to view the Mystic Torch And belt of Sacred Beans grown from my flesh One touch of it makes them invulnerable Then creep, like stealthy panthers, on the foe!

SCENE SIXTH.--MORNING. THE FIELD OF TIPPECANOE AFTER THE BATTLE. THE GROUND STREWN WITH DEAD SOLDIERS AND WARRIORS.

_Enter_ HARRISON, _officers and soldiers and_ BARRON.

HARRISON. A costly triumph reckoned by our slain!

Look how some lie still clenched with savages In all-embracing death, their b.l.o.o.d.y hands Glued in each other's hair! Make burial straight Of all alike in deep and common graves: Their quarrel now is ended.

1ST OFFICER. I have heard.

The red man fears our steel--'twas not so here; From the first shots, which drove our pickets in, Till daylight dawned they rushed upon our lines, And flung themselves upon our bayonet points In frenzied recklessness of bravery.

BARRON. They trusted in the Prophet's rites and spells, Which promised them immunity from death.

All night he sat on yon safe eminence, Howling his songs of war and mystery, Then fled, at dawn, in fear of his own braves.

[_Enter an AIDE_]

HARRISON. What tidings bring you from the Prophet's Town?

AIDE. The wretched women with their children fly To distant forests for concealment. In Their village is no living thing save mice Which scampered as we oped each cabin door.

Their pots still simmered on the vacant hearths, Standing in dusty silence and desertion.

Naught else we saw, save that their granaries Were crammed with needful corn.

HARRISON. Go bring it all-- Then burn their village down!

[_Exit_ AIDE.]

2ND OFFICER. This victory Will shake Tec.u.mseh's project to the base Were I the Prophet I should drown myself Rather than meet him.

BARRON. We have news of him-- Our scouts report him near in heavy force.

HARRISON. 'Twill melt or draw across the British line, And wait for war. But double the night watch, Lest he should strike, and give an instant care To all our wounded men: to-morrow's sun Must light us on our backward march for home Thence Rumour's tongue will spread so proud a story New England will grow envious of our glory; And, greedy for renown so long abhorred, Will on old England draw the tardy sword!