Soon the small quantity of food the Indians had brought with them from the Prophet’s Town was exhausted. Absolute want prevailed. Hunting parties went out in all directions, but returned scantily laden with game. The Miamis left for more favorable hunting-grounds; the Winnebagoes departed for their northern homes. But the Shawnees, Pottawatomies, Delawares, and others remained. The gaunt wolf of famine was staring them in the face. Bradford’s prediction came true. The savages began to kill and eat their dogs and horses. But Duke and his master still had cornbread and venison three times a day. One morning Douglas, accompanied by the bloodhound, was walking about the camp. In front of Tenskwatawa’s cabin he was met by a concourse of braves, in the midst of which stalked a tall and commanding figure. “Tecumseh!” was the cry that rose on all sides. It was the redoubtable chieftain. Unheralded he had returned from his southern tour, to find his people defeated, discouraged, and in want. The work of years had been undone in an hour. Cohesion was lost, and the tribes were scattering. To the great warrior’s mind, his brother’s egotism and precipitancy were to blame for it all. He had just arrived. His handsome features were set and stern; his black eyes, ablaze with anger. Unheeding the joyful shouts that greeted him, he strode up to the Prophet’s hut and unceremoniously kicked open the rickety door. “Tenskwatawa, come forth!” he thundered. A guttural exclamation, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps, came from within. Then the Prophet, bowing and smiling, stood in the doorway. “Welcome, my brother!” were his words of greeting. Dashing aside the extended hand, Tecumseh cried angrily: “How dare you bid me welcome to this poor place—you who have disobeyed my orders and defeated my purpose!” Tenskwatawa scornfully curled his lip, as he replied: “My brother, after a long absence, returns to his people. I bid him welcome and extend to him my hand. He rejects it—and, in answer to my greeting drops angry words. I fail to understand his meaning.” Tecumseh drew his magnificent figure to its full height and keenly eyed the speaker. His deep chest heaved spasmodically. The assembled warriors maintained a breathless silence. Instinctively they knew that a struggle for the mastery was on between the two Titans of the Shawnee tribe.