“You know well what I mean!” Tecumseh at last managed to articulate. “For years I have labored to bring about a union of the tribes. I have traveled far—I have sat by many council-fires. You offered me your advice and aid. I accepted both. I loved and trusted you. Together we accomplished much. A few months ago I went to visit our brothers of the land of flowers and sunshine. They have promised to join us in a war to recover our own. When I started on my journey, I cautioned you to do nothing that would excite the suspicions or arouse the animosities of the Seventeen Fires. You promised to follow my advice—to obey my orders. But scarcely were my footprints cold, ere you allowed our young men to go forth to pillage and murder. You had certain knowledge of this—yet you winked at it. The inevitable happened. I return to find my people defeated—humiliated. You, Tenskwatawa—you alone are to blame for all! Wag your deceitful tongue, and let our people know what excuse you can fashion!” The Prophet’s repulsive countenance was contorted with rage, as he burst forth: “I have nothing to say to my children. I have explained all to them; and they are satisfied. But to you, Tecumseh, my brother, I have this to say: I have aided you; I have furthered your plans. You went away and left me to hold in check our restless young men. They refused to listen to my words. I could not control them. The palefaces sent an army against us. I talked with the Great Spirit. He promised me the victory. My children went into the battle. They fought valiantly; but they were overcome. Smarting with defeat, they heaped reproaches upon me. They buffeted me and spit upon me. I bore it all. I showed them my power—I acknowledged my mistake. And all was well. Now you come to abuse me. I have borne much—I will bear no more!” Scarcely had the Prophet concluded, when Tecumseh, beside himself with boiling fury, shouted: “Yes, you _will_ bear more—you will bear _this_ at my hands!” Springing forward, he caught his brother by the throat and choked him until his brutal face was purple. The savages looked on in utter amazement; but no one offered to interfere. Tenskwatawa’s tongue protruded. He gurgled and gasped for breath. Douglas turned his back upon the sickening spectacle. As he did so, his eyes met those of Bradford. In answer to the younger man’s mute appeal, the older sadly shook his head. Ross understood. Not a soul in the assemblage dared to brave Tecumseh’s mad rage.