1ST OFFICER. Why, sir, their chiefs, so menacing at first, Became quite friendly at the last. They fear A battle, and will treat on any terms. The Prophet's tide of strength will ebb away, And leave his stranded bark upon the mire. HARRISON. 'Tis the mixed craft of old dissembling Nature! If I could look upon her smallest web, And see in it but crossed and harmless hairs, Then might I trust the Prophet's knotted seine. I did not like the manner of those chiefs Who spoke so fairly. What but highest greatness Plucks hatred from its seat, and in its stead Plants friendship in an instant? This our camp Is badly placed; each coulee and ravine Is dangerous cover for approach by night; And all the circuit of the spongy plain A treacherous bog to mire our cavalry. They who directed us so warmly here Had other than our comfort in their eye. 2ND OFFICER. Fear you a night-attack, sir? HARRISON. Fear it! No! I but anticipate, and shall prepare. 'Tis sunset, and too late for better choice, Else were the Prophet welcome to his ground. Pitch tents and draw our baggage to the centre; Girdle the camp with lynx-eyed sentinels; Detail strong guards of choice and wakeful men As pickets in advance of all oar lines; Place mounted riflemen on both our flanks; Our cavalry take post in front and rear, But still within the lines of infantry, Which, struck at any point, must hold the ground Until relieved. Cover your rifle pans-- The thick clouds threaten rain. I look to you To fill these simple orders to the letter. But stay! Let all our camp fires burn Till, if attacked, we form--then drown them out. The darkness falls--make disposition straight; Then, all who can, to sleep upon their arms. I fear me, ere night yields to morning pale, The warriors' yell will sound our wild reveille. SCENE FOURTH.--TECUMSEH'S CABIN. _Enter_ IENA.