Part 22

But the white man, as usual, would not go away. Instead, he came on with renewed courage, resources, and determination. Little Turtle warned his warriors that they must prepare for another struggle, and counselled them to practice evolutions and warfare. They paid little attention to these commands. "There are more long knives under the Great Snake than have ever come against us before," said he. "They are led by the best general of all the palefaces. Would it not be well if we made a treaty of peace and lived in friendly relations to these invaders?"

"No, no," shouted his hearers. "We will fight! Lead us again into battle, let your heart not shrink at the numbers of the long knives. We can defeat them! We will leave them for the wolves to feast on, even as we left the men of St. Clair's army. We will fight!" So the far-seeing chieftain of the Miamis had to again lead his supposedly invincible warriors against the foe.

When the bleaching skeletons of St. Clair's men had been buried in the dense forest, Wayne erected the fort, called Fort Recovery, and then, pressing onward through the Indian country, he built another big fortress, called Fort Defiance, at the confluence of the Au-Glaize and Miami rivers. He had two thousand regulars and eleven hundred Kentucky horsemen with him, the latter being well used to border warfare, and excellent woodsmen. Then, the soldiers all liked the Commander-in-Chief and had full confidence in his ability, which gave them an esprit de corps, without which no army can accomplish anything. Wayne, himself, was at the furthermost post when the attack was made upon Fort Recovery by the savages, under Little Turtle, and three weeks after this he pressed forward against the Miami towns. Determined to avoid the fate of Braddock and St. Clair, he kept his force always in open order and ready for the fray, while scouts hovered continually on his flanks and front. Every night breastworks of fallen trees were thrown up around his camps so that the savages could not "rush" the soldiers. "The paleface takes his army twice as far in a day as did St. Clair," said the Indian scouts who watched his advance. "He has men out on every side and it will be impossible to ambush him. We must fight and fight hard against this Big Serpent, for he means to win." Small parties of friendly Chickasaw or Choctaw Indians threaded the forest miles in advance of the marching army. White Indian fighters assisted them in watching the Miami and other hostiles, and thus, like a huge wolf of the woods, the army of "Mad Anthony" Wayne crept silently, stealthily, and ominously towards the villages of the unfriendly redskins.

Wayne had sent an offer of peace to the followers of Little Turtle from Fort Defiance, and had summoned them to dispatch deputies to meet him. The letter was carried by Christopher Miller and a Shawnee prisoner, and in it the American general said: "Miller is a Shawnee by adoption whom my soldiers captured six months ago, and the Shawnee warrior was taken two days ago. I have taken several Indians prisoner and they have been treated well. They will be put to death if Miller is harmed." When, therefore, these envoys arrived at the camp of Little Turtle, the Indians were afraid to kill them, but they endeavored to delay their answer and would not send back a reply. So the now determined "Mad Anthony" advanced against them immediately and laid waste the cornfields which the Miamis had planted, and which lay in the route of his troops.

Soon the ever-ready frontiersmen burst through the woodland near the Maumee rapids, only a few miles below a British fort, called Fort Maumee, well garrisoned and well supplied. A rough breastwork was constructed to protect the American stores and baggage, and scouts were sent forward to view the position of the followers of Little Turtle. Between fifteen hundred and two thousand warriors with seventy rangers from Detroit, composed of French, English and refugee Americans, were in force near the walls of the English stockade. The Indians were Shawnees, Wyandots, Ottawas, Miamis, Pottawattamies, Chippewas and Iroquois. They lay in a place called Fallen Timbers, because the wind had here blown down the trees of the forest and had piled them up in dense rows. It was an excellent place for defense, and Little Turtle had shown his sagacity in selecting it. With confidence the painted warriors waited for the attack, as they knew that their position was a good one, and despised the Americans, whom they had so signally routed under St. Clair. Their line was about two miles in length and all were well armed.

As General Wayne scanned the Indian position, he quickly made up his mind how to attack it. "The dragoons will advance upon the right flank," he directed. "The regular cavalry will move up on the left flank near the river. The infantry will form in two lines in the centre, and will first fire, and then charge the red vermin with the bayonet. The mounted volunteers will move over far to the left and will turn the right flank of the savages. As soon as all are ready, attack and wipe out St. Clair's ignominious rout!" The subordinate officers received his orders with enthusiasm and when all were prepared, in extended order, the whole line moved out for the fray.

In the centre of Wayne's troops was a small force of mounted volunteers--Kentucky militiamen--and they were well in advance of the two lines of infantrymen. With a wild yell, a mass of savages jumped up from the protection of the fallen trees, rushed upon the oncoming riflemen, and soon drove them back into the advancing infantry. But this success was not lasting. A volley of well-aimed bullets checked their howling advance, and, with a dogged persistence, the rangers crept on upon the savages, reserving their fire by strict orders from their beloved "Mad Anthony." As they came forward, the Indians leaped up to deliver their fire, and, when they did so, the Americans poured a galling volley into their ranks, then, fixing bayonets, rushed precipitously upon them before they had time to load. As they charged, the cavalrymen, with hoarse cheers, galloped their rawboned steeds into the left flank of the Indian line. Their horses jumped across the fallen logs, and in an instant they were in the midst of the naked braves, slashing to the right and left with their keen swords, and cutting down all who stood in their way.

"Hah!" exclaimed General Wayne, rubbing his hands. "They give! They fall back! They run! The day is ours!" As he spoke a galloping aide came panting to his side. "Captain Campbell is killed," said he, "and Captain Van Rensselaer is down, but Lieutenant Covington is leading the dragoons, and they are driving the redskins before them like a crowd of sheep."

He spoke only too truthfully, for unable to stand up against the slashing charge, the red men broke and fled before the enthusiastic troopers of "Mad Anthony" Wayne. When the painted and half-naked braves attempted to make a stand, they were knocked down with ease. The second line of infantrymen did not cross the fallen timber in time to get a shot at the disappearing warriors of Little Turtle. On the left flank, the horse-riflemen had nothing to charge when they galloped into the thickets, for the unvaliant red warriors had vanished. About a hundred braves lay dead and dying upon the field. Mixed in among them were a few of the white renegades who had joined them. The action had lasted but forty minutes, and the defeats of Harmar and St. Clair had been forever vindicated.

For two miles the now excited Americans rushed after the vaunted warriors of the frontier, who had adopted the ancient motto: "He who fights and runs away will live to fight another day." The fugitives dashed up to the walls of the British fort and implored admittance, but the garrison greeted their request with curses, and bolted the doorway in their faces. So they were forced to rush off into the dense woodland. "Burn everything up to the walls of the fort," commanded General Wayne. "Cut down the crops of the Indians, destroy their villages, level the houses of the British agents and traders to the sod. I want to give this Little Turtle and his men a lesson which they will never cease to remember!" The British commander in Fort Maumee vigorously protested against this, but Wayne summoned him to abandon his stockades, which he, of course, refused, and, not daring to interfere, saw the homes of his Indian allies soon blazing and covered with a pall of thick, black vapor. The work of destruction was quickly over, and the victorious American army was on its way back to Fort Defiance.

The troops went into winter quarters at Greenville, while the Indians were severely disheartened by their defeat. Their anger was intense against the British, for these people had goaded them on to war, had given them material aid, and, as soon as the fortune of battle went against them, had abandoned them to their fate. Starvation and hunger were rampant, as their homes, crop and stores of provisions had been completely destroyed. Their cattle, and even their dogs, had died, and, as the British in Fort Maumee would give them no food, they sent envoy after envoy to the Americans to exchange prisoners, and to promise that, in the spring, they would make peace. All the leaders now recognized that it was time to make terms with Wayne, and many now appreciated that they should have listened to the counsel of Little Turtle, before the exasperating defeat at the Fallen Timbers. On February 11th, the Shawnees, Delawares and Miamis entered into a preliminary treaty with General Wayne, and in the summer of 1795 made a definite peace at Greenville. "Elder Brother," said a Chippewa chief, "you asked me who were the true owners of the land now ceded to the United States. In answer I tell you, if any nations should call themselves the owners of it they would be guilty of falsehood; our claim to it is equal; our Elder Brother had conquered it."

Thus another step westward was made by the whites, and another war had added thousands of square miles of territory to the people of the United States. The survival of the most fit was evident, for, had the red men possessed the same mental characteristics which the whites possessed, they would have beaten not two armies, but three armies. This small difference of ability had made them the submitting nation, while the powerful Anglo-Saxons now pushed their civilization into the unbroken forest, soon killed off all the game, built smoky cities, railroads, and steamboats; cut down all the timber, grew corn, oats and potatoes, and utilized the resources of the soil to its utmost capacity.

Little Turtle settled on Eel River about twenty miles from Fort Wayne, where the American troops built him a comfortable house. He made frequent visits to Philadelphia and Washington, and was made much of by the agents, who appreciated his worth. But this destroyed, for a time, at least, his influence among the people of his own color, who suspected his honesty and envied his good fortune. He, therefore, often opposed the desires of the United States Government in order to regain his popularity with his red brethren. No prisoner had ever been tortured by his warriors, as he opposed this brutal practice. Nor would he allow captives to be burned at the stake. With energy he devoted himself to the spread of temperance among the members of his own tribe, for he saw the awful results which bad whiskey had upon the once warlike braves. "These white traders strip the poor Indians of skins, gun, blanket, everything, while his squaw and the children dependent upon him be starving in his wigwam," said he. "My people barter away their best treasures for the white man's miserable firewater."

Greatly respected and deeply interested in the problems among his own people, Little Turtle spent his declining years. When asked one day why he did not live in Philadelphia instead of in his cabin on the Wabash, he replied: "I admit that you whites live better than do we red men, but I could not live with you because I am as a deaf and dumb man. I cannot talk your language. When I walk through the city streets I see every person in his shop employed at something. One makes shoes, another makes hats, a third sells cloth, and everyone lives by his labor. I say to myself, 'Which of these things can you do?' Not one. I can make a bow or an arrow, catch fish, kill game, and go to war, but none of these are any good here. To learn what is done in Philadelphia would require a long time. Old age is coming on me; I should be a piece of furniture among the whites, useless to them, useless to myself. I must return to my own country."

What he said of old age coming on was only too true. Not long afterwards he came to his death on the turf of the open camp, and with the composure which characterizes his race. He was buried at Fort Wayne with all the honors of war, and, it is said, was about seventy years of age at the time of his departure to the Happy Hunting Grounds: those fields of elysian bliss of which the old Indian poets have told in song and story. Courageous, kind, far-seeing, eloquent, well-balanced, the memory of Little Turtle yet stirs the hearts of his few descendants, who look back upon his career with satisfaction and high regard.

TECUMSEH, "THE SHOOTING STAR": CELEBRATED SHAWANOE DIPLOMAT, ORATOR AND SOLDIER

When Little Turtle and his army were battling with "Mad Anthony" Wayne at Fallen Timbers, one warrior--a Shawanoe--was present, who was subsequently to play an important part in the struggle between the whites and redskins for the possession of America. This was Tecumseh, or "The Shooting Star," a Shawanoe, or Shawnee warrior who was born on the Mad River in Ohio, in 1768, and whose father was killed in the fierce battle of the Great Kanawha. His twin brother, Elsk-wata-wa, the Prophet, was to become a man of note among the Western Indians, just as he was, himself, to obtain fame and notoriety.

The people of the tribe to which this celebrated man belonged were noted for "much talk" as well as for hard fighting, and Tecumseh was never at a loss for words. His appearance was always noble, his form symmetrical, his carriage erect and lofty, his motions commanding, and, under the excitement of his favorite theme of driving the American invaders from the lands of the Indians, he became a new being. When speaking upon the subject, his countenance would light up with fiery and haughty pride; his frame would swell with emotion; every posture which he assumed, and every gesture, would be eloquent with meaning. At the same time, his language would flow with glowing eloquence, as it spoke the passionate thoughts of his very soul. His manner, too, was never coarse, nor was there any show of cruelty in his disposition. He was a man of mark among the many Indians who opposed the advance of the whites into the country watered by the slow-moving Ohio.

When the treaty of Greenville was signed, this eminent redskin was about twenty-five years of age, and, secluding himself in the forests of his own country, he there lived the existence of a hunter and trapper. There is no evidence that he was in the numerous Indian forays which took place upon the frontier at this time. In fact, various stories have come down to us that exhibit his friendliness to the whites whom he met in the forest. A band of roving Shawnees often hunted with him, and, because of his ability to sway their spirits with his words and because of his prowess in hunting, he was elected chief of this small body of woodland rovers.

One day a number of Shawnees wagered Tecumseh that each of them could kill as many deer in three days of hunting as he, himself, could. "I accept your challenge," said the great chief, "and I will return here within the period with twice as many deer as any of you." So making the proper preparations that evening, he departed next morn at daybreak into the forest. Three days elapsed before any of the huntsmen came back, but at dusk of the third day since their departure all returned with their shoulders burdened with the game which had fallen by their skill. "Ugh! Ugh!" said one, "I have killed twelve. I have good my boast!" "And I thirteen," cried another. But, as he spoke, Tecumseh came into the light of the fire, staggering beneath a load of peltries. "Here are thirty deerskins," said he, depositing his bundle before the other hunters. "The carcasses are in the woods and I will go to get the haunches tomorrow."

Shortly after this the Shawnee chief entered the cabin of a white pioneer upon the frontier. This borderer was friendly to him and would often hunt with him in the dark recesses of the forest. So Tecumseh stalked in without introduction, and, with much gravity, seated himself in a rough hewn chair. A fat Kentuckian was sitting in the cabin. When he saw the noted warrior, he began to shake and tremble with fear, a fact which seemed to amuse the celebrated Indian. With a meaning glance at the owner of the cabin, Tecumseh remarked: "I have just returned from a night hunt against the palefaces. Thirty scalps hang in my wigwam, which I have secured in this expedition. But I am looking for just one more." Here he laid his hand upon his tomahawk. "And I must have this scalp before the setting of the sun," he thundered.

The Kentuckian was now ghastly pale and was trembling with fear. This seemed to please the famous Shawnee, and, walking over to him, he placed his hand upon his broad and shaking shoulder. "You are scared, are you not?" said he. "But there is no reason for it. Ugh! Ugh! I am just playing with you. I would not hurt a hair upon your head." As he spoke, his host burst into a hearty laugh, which showed the frightened borderer that an Indian could joke as well as a white man.

During this period there is no doubt that Tecumseh brooded over the fancied wrongs to the members of his own race and meditated upon some method of keeping the white settlers away from the lands of his forefathers. His brother, Elsk-wata-wa, assumed the name and functions of a prophet and reformer among the red men, established headquarters at Greenville, and told them that he had received a divine inspiration to go among them and save them from extinction. Calling himself Tensk-wata-wa, or "The Open Door," he asserted that the Great Spirit had selected him as a means of deliverance to his people. Tecumseh approved of this--his brother's course--and did all within his power to aid him in knitting together the savages into a well-organized clan. A large band of the Shawnees, Wyandots, Pottawattamies, Ottawas, Chippewas, and Kickapoos soon gathered around the Prophet, who told them that the Great Spirit, who had made the red men, was not the same as he who had produced the white men, and that all the misfortunes among their race were due to the fact that they had tried to imitate the manners of the whites. He counselled them to form a great Confederation, to live righteous lives, and to prepare themselves by drill and practice in shooting, so that, when the time came, they could show a bold front to the Americans. The Indians were seized with a great religious fever, and, burning with anger at the wrongs which they considered that the whites had heaped upon their race, were soon in a condition of mind which needed very little to flame into the passion of war.

The Commissioner from the United States to the Ohio country, and the Governor of this territory, was General Harrison, a man of cool judgment and excellent military genius. His headquarters were at Fort Wayne, in the present state of Indiana, although he had a frontier post at Vincennes. His border troops were not equal in numbers to the great body of redskins in the surrounding country, but they were well armed, well equipped, and ready for any emergency. In 1809 this able American General concluded a treaty between the Delawares, Miamis and Pottawattamies at Fort Wayne, in which the Indians ceded to the United States Government a tract of land extending for sixty miles along the Wabash River, above Vincennes. The treaty was made during the absence of Tecumseh upon a visit to a neighboring tribe, and without either his advice or knowledge. None of his followers, or those of the Prophet, were present during the transaction. For this reason, and because he considered that the Indians had given up too much of their land, Tecumseh was furiously angry, and threatened to kill the chiefs who had signed the treaty, saying: "The Americans can never survey this land, for I shall kill them if they attempt to do it. It is wrong to give away all of our possessions, and, if our people continue to do so, there will be nothing left for the red men."

This was fierce talk, but for many months Tecumseh had endeavored to form a great confederation of the Western tribes, similar to that of Pontiac. The Western Indians had been enemies for centuries, so that it was a herculean task to bring them together in bonds of friendship. Yet the astute Tecumseh visited the Creeks in the far South, and secured the friendship of Weatherford, or Red Eagle; the tribes living upon the farthest extremity of Lake Superior; and those who camped far beyond the muddy waters of the Mississippi. For four years he pushed through the wilderness, sometimes in a canoe, and sometimes on foot, making his camp among the roving bands of redskins, or alone in the solitude of the forest. Everywhere he would hold conferences and long pow-wows with the chiefs of the Western tribes and would warn them that, unless they joined with him and his brother--the Prophet--in a mighty confederacy, the whites would soon come from the East in overwhelming numbers, and would completely cover the land then held by the red men. "You must make a stand, or your children will be without hunting grounds," he would say. "Rise, O red men, rise to defend your homes from invasion by the whites!" These appeals were not in vain; the redskins prepared for hostilities under his leadership; and in 1810 it was said that he controlled more than sixteen hundred warriors, who were fully prepared for a long campaign.

This activity of Tecumseh and the Prophet gave Governor Harrison serious alarm, and he wrote of his fears to the Government at Washington, requesting more men and more arms upon the frontier. He even called Tecumseh before him, and said:

"Why are you trying to bring about a union of the different Indian tribes?"

The great chief looked keenly at him.

"For the same reason that you have brought about a union of your colonies," he answered. "We Indians have never objected to that, and what business is it of yours what we do among ourselves? Besides, you have so many cheats and scoundrels among you that we must unite in order to save ourselves from their clutches. What harm is there in this, pray? We are in our own country, which has been left us by the Great Spirit."

It is not known what reply the Governor made to this, but it is known that Tecumseh withdrew to Prophet's Town, a settlement which he and his brother had made on the Tippecanoe River (one of the tributaries of the Wabash) in Indiana. Here was a large body of Indians who were combining practices of warfare with their religious exercises, and were often insolent to the whites. After numerous complaints had reached him about the redskins who had settled at Prophet's Town, Governor Harrison sent a messenger to them, asking why they had established themselves here, and why they made such active preparations for war.