The day wore on, and the red men and white again met in council. Tecumseh was dignified and collected, and rather more conciliating in his manner than he had been at the former conference. He denied having had any intention of attacking the Governor, and exerted himself to remove any such impression which might have been formed, yet reiterated the same opinions which he had advanced the day before, relative to their lands, and the wrongs of the Indians. Having finished speaking, the Governor asked him whether it was his intention now to prevent the surveying of the lands, lately purchased by the United States. He answered, “It was:—that he and those connected with him were determined that the old boundary should continue.” The Governor complimented him for his frankness, and told him, that his views should be made known to the President, but he feared, without a hope of the lands being surrendered. “If they are not, I cannot help it,” said Tecumseh, “I know my duty.” The council was then adjourned, and Tecumseh again left the town.—All present were fully impressed with a sense of the high character and noble bearing of Tecumseh, and none more so than the Governor, who, with a hope of eliciting a farther development of his views in private, than he had given in public, determined on the following day, to visit him at his camp. With but a single friend, he appeared before Tecumseh, who treated them both with the most marked respect, carried them to his tent, where, giving them seats, and stretching himself upon the ground, he entered frankly into conversation. The Governor stated, that he had come with a wish to preserve peace, and desired to know whether his intentions were really such as he had stated in council. Tecumseh said, “they were;—that he would not willingly make war with the United States, against whom he had no other complaint, than their purchasing the Indian lands.—That he wished to be their friend, and that if the Governor would surrender the lands lately bought, he was the ally of the Americans; if not, he was their enemy.” The Governor again assured him that he would make known his propositions to the President, but informed him, there was no hope of his acceding to them. “Well,” said Tecumseh, “as the Great Chief is to determine the matter, I hope the Great Spirit will put sense enough in his head to induce him to give up the land. True, he is so far off, that the war will not injure him;—he may sit still in his town, and drink his wine, while you and I will have to fight it out.” Much conversation ensued, all of which was marked by the most manly frankness, and the Governor rose to depart, saying, “there is one request, Tecumseh, which I have to make, and to which I hope you will agree.” “Name it,” said the Chief.