“Earth, this is rather too serious a mater to joke about; but, if what you say of Tecumseh be true, he will not suffer it.” “I told you,” said Earth, “what people say, not what I know of 'Cumseh; for myself, I have no confidence in any of 'em, I never knowed one that could be trusted; its just as natural for them to lie, and do every thing that is bad, as 'tis for a gourd to have a bitter taste.” “Then it may be as bad in the morning,” said Rolfe, “as it is now.” “No, they'll have time to cool a little,” said Earth, “but I'll slip round after a while, as soon as I think it safe to do so, and see what I can make of 'em.” “Well, be cautious, Earth, for I should hate for them to get hold of you.” “You let an ‘old coon’ alone,” said Earth, “for I reckon that perhaps, I should hate it a little worser than you.” “Earth, I'll tell you a notion that strikes me.” “What is it?” “Why, that this party has not gone to the camp.” “What makes you think so?” “Because, if Tecumseh is there, they would be afraid to go, for people generally say that he sticks to the treaty, and discountenances these things; and what every body says, you know, is right apt to have some truth in it. Another reason. If the Prophet is there, they would not go, because he preaches peace, and you know what a disturbance we have already had, about his refusing to give up a murderer.” “There is something in what you say, Rolfe, but these Ingens are sly dogs; they are mighty tricky. If they are not here, where could they have gone?” “They may have avoided the camp,” said Rolfe, “and have gone up the Wabash, where they are always assembling, or else have turned off, and gone to the west.” “We'll see presently,” said Earth, and stretching themselves out they awaited the approach of night.