I Will Protect My People If I

I Will Protect My People If I Live. For Myself I Do Not Fear For I Have The Word Of Usen. Who Is The White Nantan To Think He Can Pit His Power Against That Of Usen?

The Song That I Will Sing Is An Old Song, So Old That None Knows Who Made It. It Has Been Handed Down Through Generations And Was Taught To Me When I Was But A Little Lad. It Is Now My Own Song. It Belongs To Me. This Is A Holy Song (medicine-song), And Great Is Its Power. The Song Tells How, As I Sing, I Go Through The Air To A Holy Place Where Yusun (the Supreme Being) Will Give Me Power To Do Wonderful Things. I Am Surrounded By Little Clouds, And As I Go Through The Air I Change, Becoming Spirit Only.

Late One Afternoon When Returning From Town We Were Met By A Few Women And Children Who Told Us That Mexican Troops From Some Other Town Had Attacked Our Camp, Killed All The Warriors Of The Guard, Captured All Our Ponies, Secured Our Arms, Destroyed Our Supplies, And Killed Many Of Our Women And Children.. When All Were Counted, I Found That My Aged Mother, My Young Wife, And My Three Small Children Were Among The Slain.

We Had No Churches, No Religious Organizations, No Sabbath Day, No Holidays, And Yet We Worshiped. Sometimes The Whole Tribe Would Assemble To Sing And Pray; Sometimes A Smaller Number, Perhaps Only Two Or Three. The Songs Had A Few Words, But Were Not Formal. The Singer Would Occasionally Put In Such Words As He Wished Instead Of The Usual Tone Sound. Sometimes We Prayed In Silence; Sometimes Each One Prayed Aloud; Sometimes An Aged Person Prayed For All Of Us. At Other Times One Would Rise And Speak To Us Of Our Duties To Each Other And To Usen. Our Services Were Short.

The Soldiers Never Explained To The Government When An Indian Was Wronged, But Reported The Misdeeds Of The Indians.