PANTHER-ACROSS-THE-SKY
Tecumseh and the New Madrid Earthquake
Part Three: The Prophecy Fulfilled
Sunday, November 10, 1811
All of the tribes, Tecumseh told these followers, had received bundles
of red stick. All had but one of those sticks left. In six days a
preliminary sign would be given to the tribes. It would be a sign under
which he had been born and named. A great star would flash across the
heavens and this would indicate that Tecumseh was still guided by the
hand of the Great Spirit. The sign would be clearly visible to all the
tribes, and when it came they were to take the last red stick and cut it
into thirty equal pieces. Each day thereafter, one of these pieces was
to be burned in the light of dawn. But the thirtieth piece was to be
burned in the midst of the night, and when the last of these had been
burned, then would come the great sign of which he had personally told
them all. And when this sign came, all who believed in Tecumseh and in
the future of the Indian nation would take up their weapons and strike
out at once for the British fort that was called Malden, located on the
north side of the head of the lakes that was called Erie.
Saturday, November 16, 1811
Under a crisp cloudless sky, the Indians crouched. No fires had been
lighted, lest this drive away or interfere with the sign. There was no
moon this night, and the stars twinkled with almost tangible brightness
in their deep black background. With blankets held over their heads to
hold back the bite of the cold air, the Indians waited. In southern
Canada, from the great falls of the Niagara to the great
Lake-of-the-Woods, they watched. In western New York and Pennsylvania,
they watched. In Ohio and the Indiana Territory and in the land that
pushed north between the two great lakes and in the land to the west of
the lakes, they watched. Along the Mississippi and Missouri, and even
farther west, they watched. In the Tennessee and Alabama and
Mississippi country, they watched. And the principal chief of each
tribe held in his hand the final red stick of his bundle.
Just before the midpoint of the night it came -- a great searing flash
from out of the southwest; incredibly bright with a weird greenish-white
light, incredibly swift, incredibly awe-inspiring. And the heads of a
thousand, ten thousand, a hundred thousand Indians swiveled to watch its
fiery progress across the heavens until it disappeared in the northeast.
And they were deeply moved by it.
Many of the chiefs broke their sticks over their knees and threw them
away and rid their fear in anger. But there were some who retired to
their wegiwas or teepees or hogans, lay the red stick upon the ground
before the fire, and carefully measured, marked it off with a bit of
charcoal, and cut it into thirty equal lengths.
And then they waited.
Monday, December 16, 1811
At 2:30 A.M. the earth shook.
In the south of Canada, in the villages of the Iroquois, Ottawa,
Chippewa and Huron, it came as a deep and terrifying rumble. Creek
banks caved in and huge trees toppled in a continuous crash of snapping
branches.
In all of the Great Lakes, but especially Lake Michigan and Lake Erie,
the waters danced and great waves broke erratically on the shores,
though there was no wind.
In the western plains, there was a fierce grinding sound and a
shuddering, which jarred the bones and set teeth on edge. Earthen
vessels split apart and great herds of bison staggered to their feet and
stampeded in abject panic.
To the south and west, tremendous boulders broke loose on hills and cut
swaths through the trees and brush to the bottoms. Rapidly running
streams stopped and eddied, and some of them abruptly went dry and the
fish that had lied in them flopped away their lies on the muddy or rocky
beds.
To the south, whole forests fell in incredible tangles. New streams
sprang up where none had been before. In the Upper Creek village of
Tuckabatchee, every dwelling shuddered and shook, and then collapsed
upon itself and its inhabitants.
To the south and east, palm trees lashed about like whips, and lakes
emptied of their waters, while ponds appeared in huge declivities which
suddenly dented the surface of the earth.
All over the land, birds were roused from their roosting places with
scream of fright and flapping wings. Cattle bellowed and kicked, lost
their footing, and were thrown to the ground where they rolled about,
unable to regain their balance.
In Kentucky, Tennessee and the Indiana Territory, settlers were thrown
from their beds, heard the timbers of their cabins wrench apart, and
watched the bricks crumble into heaps of debris masked in choking clouds
of dust. Bridges snapped and tumbled into rivers and creeks. Glass
shattered, fences and barns collapsed and fires broke out. Along steep
ravines, the cliffside slipped and filled their chasms, and the country
was blanketing with a deafening roar.
In the center of all this, in that area where the Ohio River meets the
Mississippi, where Tennessee, Kentucky, Arkansas, Missouri, and Illinois
come together, fantastic splits appeared in the ground and huge tracts
of land were swallowed up. A few miles from the Mississippi, near the
Kentucky-Tennessee border, a monstrous section of ground sank as if some
gigantic foot had stepped on the soft earth and mashed it down. Water
gushed forth in fantastic volume and the depression became filled and
turned into a large lake, to become known as Reelfoot Lake. The whole
midsection of the Mississippi writhed and heaved and tremendous bluffs
toppled into the muddy waters. Entire sections of land were inundated,
and others that had been riverbed were left high in the air. The
Mississippi itself turned and flowed backwards for a time. It swirled
and eddied, hissed and gurgled, and at length, when it settled down, the
face of the land had changed. New Madrid was destroyed and the tens of
thousands of acres of land, including virtually all that was owned by
Simon Kenton, vanished forever; that which remained was ugly and
austere.
Such was the great sign of Tecumseh.
This was the earthquake which occurred where no tremor had ever been
recorded before; where there was no scientific explanation for such a
thing happening; where no one cold possibly have anticipated or
predicted that an earthquake could happen. No one except Tecumseh.
And though they were only a small percentage of those who had pledged
themselves to do so, nevertheless quite a number of warriors of various
tribes gathered up their weapons and set out at once to join the amazing
Shawnee chief near Detroit.
Wednesday, April 1, 1812
The earthquake of December 16 was only a starter. It lasted,
intermittently, for two terror-filled days; and at the end of that time,
the atmosphere was so choked with dust and smoke that for a week
afterwards the sun shone sickly reddish-bronze through an ugly haze.
The second earthquake struck on January 23, and the third hit four days
later. And finally, on February 13, came the last and worst of them --
a hideous grinding and snapping which last for only an hour, but caused
about as much damage as the other three combined.
This was powerful medicine -- more powerful than the Indians had ever
seen. Those who had deserted Tecumseh now began to reconsider.
Although most were in no hurry to rejoin the Shawnee chief, the
inclination was there; if, as Tecumseh had predicted, there would be war
with the whites, why not make the most of it right where they were?
And so began the hostilities.
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| David Yarrow (turtle) Econet:<jdmann> 315-675-8498 |
| Earthwise Education Center, P.O. Box 91, Camden, NY 13316 |
| "be earthwise, not clockwise" |
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