Brothers! McIntosh is dead. He broke the law of the nation. The law which be made himself. Hie face was turned to the white men, who wish to take our land from us. His back was to his own people. His ears were shut to the cries of our women and children. His heart was estranged from us. The words of his talk were deceitful. They came to us I like the sickly breeze that flies over the marsh of the great river.
Brothers! McIntosh was brave. The deeds of his youth were valiant. But his heart became changed: he spoke the words of deceitfulness: he walked in crooked paths, which his brethren knew not—paths which led down to death. He deceived us, and we slew him. The land is red with his blood, and with the blood of his friends. Our vengeance is satisfied. We bury the hatchet of revenge. Let us obey tho Great Spirit, that he may lead his children in the path of their wandering.