And, since she has no mind to give her heart
Which, rest assured, is in her body stity
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 bloody 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 Tecumseh'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!

SCENE SEVENTH. - THE RUINS OF THE PROPHET'S TOWN.

[Enter the_ PROPHET, who gloomily surveys the
place_.]

PROPHET. Our people scattered, and our town in ashes!
To think these hands could work such madness here -
This envious head devise this misery!
Tecumseh, had not my ambition drawn
Such sharp and fell destruction on our race
You might have smiled at me! for I have matched
My cunning 'gainst your wisdom, and have dragged
Myself and all into a sea of ruin.