Tecumseh - Act 2, Scene 2

SCENE SECOND — V INCENNES — A Street .

Enter G ERKIN , S LAUGH and Twang .

G ERKIN . Ain't it about time Barron was back, Jedge?
Twang . I reckon so. Our Guvner takes a crazy sight more pains than I would to sweeten that ragin' devil Tecumseh's temper. I'd sweeten it with sugar o' lead if I had my way.
S LAUGH . It's a reekin' shame — dang me if it ain't. And that two-faced one-eyed brother o' his, the Prophet — I'll be darned if folks don't say that the Shakers in them 'ere parts claims him for a disciple!
Twang . Them Shakers is a queer lot. They dance jest like wild Injuns, and thinks we orter be kind to the red rascals, and use them honestly.
G ERKIN . Wall! That's what our Guvner ses too. But I reckon he's shammin' a bit. Twixt you and me, he's on the make like the rest o' us. Think o' bein' kind to a red devil that would lift your har ten minutes arter! And as for honesty — I say " set 'em up " every time, and then rob 'em. That's the way to clar them out o' the kentry. Whiskey's better 'n gunpowder, and costs less than fightin' 'em in the long run.

Enter C ITIZEN B LOAT .

Twang . That's so! Hello, Major, what's up? You look kind o' riled to-day.
B LOAT . Wall, Jedge, I do feel right mad — have you heerd the news?
Twang . No! Has old Sledge bust you at the kyards again?
B LOAT . Old Sledge be darned! I had jest clar'd him out o' continentals — fifty to the shillin' — at his own game, when in ript Roudi — the Eyetalian that knifed the Muskoe Injun for peekin' through his bar-room winder last spring — jest down from Fort Knox. You know the chap, General; you was on his jury.
S LAUGH . I reckon I do! The Court was agin him, but we acquitted him afore the Chief-Justice finished his charge, and gave him a vote o' thanks to boot. There's a heap o' furriners creepin' inter these parts — poor down-trodden cusses from Europe — and, if they're all like Roudi, they'll do — a'most as hendy with the knife as our own people. But what's up?
B LOAT . Roudi saw Barron at Fort Knox, restin' thar on his way back from the Prophet's Town, and he sez that red assassin Tecumseh's a-cumin' down with four hundred o' his painted devils to convarse with our Guvner. They're all armed, he sez, and will be here afore mid-day.
S LAUGH . Wall! our Guvner notified him to come — he's only gettin' what he axed for. There'll be a deal o' loose har flitterin' about the streets afore night, I reckon. Harrison's a heap too soft with them red roosters; he hain't got cheek enough.
G ERKIN . I've heerd say the Guvner, and the Chief Justice too, thinks a sight o' this tearin' red devil. They say he's a great man. They say, too, that our treaty Injuns air badly used — that they shouldn't be meddled with on their resarves, and should hev skoolin'.
B LOAT . Skoolin'! That gits me! Dogoned if I wouldn't larn them jest one thing — what them regler officers up to the Fort larns their dogs — " to drap to shot, " only in a different kind o' way like; and, as for their resarves, I say, give our farmers a chance — let them locate!
Twang . That's so, Major! What arthly use air they — plouterin' about their little bits o' fields, with their little bits o' cabins, and livin' half the time on mush-rats? I say, let them move out, and give reliable citizens a chance.
S LAUGH . Wall, I reckon our Guvner's kind's about played out. They call themselves the old stock — the clean pea — the rale gentlemen o' the Revolooshun. But, gentlemen, ain't we the Revolooshun? Jest wait till the live citizens o' these United States and Territories gits a chance, and we'll show them gentry what a free people, with our institooshuns, kin do. There'll be no more talk o' skoolin for Injuns, you bet! I'd give them Kernel Crunch's billet.
G ERKIN . What was that, General?
S LAUGH . Why, they say he killed a hull family o' redskins, and stuck 'em up as scar'-crows in his wheat-fields. Gentlemen, there's nothin' like original idees!
Twang . That war an original idee! The Kernel orter hev tuk out a patent. I think I've heerd o' Crunch. Warn't he with Kernel Crawford, o' the melish', at one time?
S LAUGH . Whar?
Twang . Why over to the Muskingum. You've heerd o' them Delaware Moravians over to the Muskingum, surely?
S LAUGH . Oh, them convarted chaps! but I a'most forgit the carcumstance.
Twang . Wall, them red devils had a nice resarve thar — as yieldin' a bit o' sile as one could strike this side o' the Alleghanies. They was all convarted by the Moravians, and pertended to be as quiet and peaceable as the Shakers hereabout. But Kernel Crawford — who knew good sile when he sot his eyes on it — diskivered that them prayin' chaps had helped a war-party from the North with provisions — or thort they did, which was the same thing. So — one fine Sunday — he surrounds their church with his melish' — when the Injuns was all a-prayin' — and walks in himself, jest for a minute or two, and prays a bit so as not to skeer them too soon, end then walks out, and locks the door. The Kernel then cutely — my heart kind o' warms to that man — put a squad o' melish' at each winder with their bayonets pinted, and sot fire to the Church, and charred up the hull kit, preacher and all! The heft o' them was burnt; but some that warn't thar skinned out o' the kentry, and got lands from the British up to the Thames River in Canady, and founded what they call the Moravian Town thar; and thar they is still — fur them Britishers kind o' pampers the Injuns, so they may git at our scalps.
S LAUGH . I reckon we'll hev a tussle with them gentry afore long. But for Noo England we'd a hed it afore now; but them Noo Englanders kind o' curries to the Britishers. A war would spile their shippin', and so they're agin it. But we hain't got no ships to spile in this western kentry, and so I reckon we'll pitch in.
G ERKIN . We'd better get out of this Injun fry-pan fust, old hoss! I could lick my own weight in wild-cats, but this ruck o' Injuns is jest a little too hefty.
B LOAT . Maybe they want to come to skool, and start store and sich!
G ERKIN . Gentlemen, I mean to send my lady down stream, and I reckon you'd better do the same with your 'uns — jest for safety like. My time's limited — will you liquor?
A LL . You bet!
B LOAT . ( Meditatively .) Skoolin'! Wall, I'll be darned!
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