Every Seed Is Awakened, And All Animal

When I Was A Boy, The Sioux Owned The World. The Sun Rose And Set On Their Land; They Sent Ten Thousand Men To Battle. Where Are The Warriors Today? Who Slew Them? Where Are Our Lands? Who Owns Them?

I Am Nothing, Neither A Chief Nor A Soldier.

I Will Remain What I Am Until I Die, A Hunter, And When There Are No Buffalo Or Other Game I Will Send My Children To Hunt And Live On Prairie, For Where An Indian Is Shut Up In One Place His Body Becomes Weak.

I Do Not Wish To Be Shut Up In A Corral. All Agency Indians I Have Seen Are Worthless. They Are Neither Red Warriors Nor White Farmers. They Are Neither Wolf Nor Dog.

What Treaty That The Whites Have Kept Has The Red Man Broken? Not One.