The First Presentation Of My Show Was

With The Help Of A Friend I Got Father Into A Wagon, When The Crowd Had Gone. I Held His Head In My Lap During The Ride Home. I Believed He Was Mortally Wounded. He Had Been Stabbed Down Through The Kidneys, Leaving An Ugly Wound.

I Began To Think That My Time Had Come, As The Saying Is.

My Restless, Roaming Spirit Would Not Allow Me To Remain At Home Very Long.

I Thought I Was Benefiting The Indians As Well As The Government, By Taking Them All Over The United States, And Giving Them A Correct Idea Of The Customs, Life, Etc., Of The Pale Faces, So That When They Returned To Their People They Could Make Known All They Had Seen.

You Who Live Your Lives In Cities Or Among Peaceful Ways Cannot Always Tell Whether Your Friends Are The Kind Who Would Go Through Fire For You. But On The Plains One's Friends Have An Opportunity To Prove Their Mettle.