Classic Poem

SCENE THIRD. — A N ELEVATED P LATEAU, DOTTED WITH HEAVY OAKS, WEST OF THE P ROPHET'S Town .

Enter three of H ARRISON'S staff Officers .

1 ST Officer . Well, here's the end of all our northward marching!
2 ND Officer . A peaceful end, if we can trust those chiefs
Who parleyed with us lately.
3 RD Officer . Yes, for if
They mean to fight, why point us to a spot
At once so strong and pleasant for our camp?
1 ST Officer . Report it so unto our General.
'Tis worth our long march through the forest wild
To view these silent plains! The Prophet's Town,
Sequestered yonder like a hermitage,
Disturbs not either's vast of solitude,
But rather gives, like graveyard visitors,
To deepest loneliness a deeper awe.

Re-enter 3 RD Officer .

3 RD Officer . I need not go, for Harrison is here.

Enter G ENERAL H ARRISON , his force following .

1 ST Officer . Methinks you like the place; some thanks we owe
Unto the Prophet's chiefs for good advice.
H ARRISON . ( Looking around keenly .) These noble oaks, the streamlet to our rear,
This rank wild grass — wood, water and soft beds!
The soldier's luxuries are here together.
1 ST Officer . Note, too, the place o'erlooks the springy plain
Which lies betwixt us and the Prophet's Town.
I think, sir, 'tis a very fitting place.
H ARRISON . A fitting place if white men were our foes;
But to the red it gives a clear advantage.
Sleep like the weasel here, if you are wise!
1 ST 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.
H ARRISON . '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.
2 ND Officer . Fear you a night-attack, sir?
H ARRISON . 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 our 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.