The superstition of the Indians was so great that if the Prophet denounced some chief who opposed him as a wizard, a loss of reputation and perhaps of life ensued. Several Delawares were among the first victims. An old woman was denounced as a witch, and was called upon repeatedly to give up her charm and medicine-bag. She was put to the stake and burned. As she was dying, she exclaimed that her grandson, who was out hunting, had it. He was pursued and arrested. He confessed that he had borrowed the charm, and by means of it had flown through the air over Kentucky to the banks of the Mississippi and back again between twilight and bedtime. He insisted, however, that he had returned the charm to his grandmother, and was finally released. On the following day an old chief named Teteboxti was accused of being a wizard. Knowing that his doom was fixed, the old man arrayed himself in his finest clothes and confronted the grim circle of inquisitors in the council-house. The trial was speedy. The sentence was passed. The old chief calmly assisted in the construction of his own funeral pile. Touched by his white hairs, the council became merciful. They voted to tomahawk him and burn his body afterward. This was done. A council was held over the wife of Teteboxti and his nephew, Billy Paterson. The latter died like a Christian, singing and praying. Preparations were then made for the burning of Teteboxti's wife when her brother, a young man of twenty, suddenly started up and bravely led her by the hand out of the house. He returned to the amazed council and said "The Devil" (alluding to the Prophet), "has come among us, and we are killing each other." He then reseated himself. This seemed to break the spell and to awaken the Indians to a realization of what they were doing, and put a stop for a time to further persecution among the Delawares. But with other tribes the witchcraft delusion continued, until Governor Harrison was justly alarmed. He knew that although the Indians had been quiet for ten years, and no ordinary leader could rouse them, yet deceived by a mask of religion, they might once more plunge the frontiers into bloody war. Moreover, his sympathies were touched by the stories of the poor wretches doomed to a horrible death by this strange delusion. Accordingly he sent the Indians an earnest letter, urging them in the name of the Seventeen Fires (States) to drive out the Prophet, and boldly asserted that the latter was a fraud. He told the Indians that the pretender could work no miracles. "Ask of him to cause the sun to stand still, the moon to alter its course, the rivers to cease to flow, or the dead to rise from their graves."