The army encamped for the night about three-quarters of a mile from the Prophet's town on the now famous Tippecanoe battleground, seven miles northeast of the city of Lafayette. The place was a beautiful spot of timber-land, about ten feet higher than the marshy prairie in front, which stretched away toward the Prophet's town, and nearly twice that height above a similar prairie, on the other side, across which sluggishly flowed a small stream, its course marked by willows and brushwood. At this point he was met by ambassadors, who asked that the white men refrain from hostilities until the following day, when a peace talk could be had. Harrison, however, was too prudent to be deluded into a belief that no danger threatened. The army settled itself for the night in order of battle, the men sleeping on their arms. Notwithstanding the truce those of the soldiers experienced in Indian warfare fully expected an attack before morning light. Meanwhile the Indians were by no means idle. All night long the chiefs sat in council. A dozen different plans for the attack were proposed. At one time it was decided to meet the whites in council on the next day, agree to their proposals, and withdraw, leaving behind two Winnebagos, who were to rush forward and assassinate the Governor. This was to be the signal for battle. Later in the night, which was dark and rainy, the plan was changed. The Prophet, mixing some mysterious concoction of "hell-broth," pretended to read in it the fact that one-half of Harrison's army was dead and the other half crazy. Encouraged by this assurance, the whole body of warriors, at four o'clock in the morning, began to creep across the miry prairie toward the American camp.