The Soldiers Never Explained To The Government

It Is My Land, My Home, My Father's Land, To Which I Now Ask To Be Allowed To Return. I Want To Spend My Last Days There, And Be Buried Among Those Mountains. If This Could Be I Might Die In Peace, Feeling That My People, Placed In Their Native Homes, Would Increase In Numbers, Rather Than Diminish As At Present, And That Our Name Would Not Become Extinct.

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.

I Was Born Where There Were No Enclosures.

I Was Warmed By The Sun, Rocked By The Winds And Sheltered By The Trees As Other Indian Babes. I Can Go Everywhere With A Good Feeling.