When My Young Men Began The Killing,

We Did Not Know There Were Other People Besides The Indian Until About One Hundred Winters Ago, When Some Men With White Faces Came To Our Country.

The Earth Is Our Mother. She Should Not Be Disturbed By Hoe Or Plough. We Want Only To Subsist On What She Freely Gives Us.

My People Were Divided About Surrendering.

Our Chiefs Are Killed. . . . The Little Children Are Freezing To Death. . . . My People Have No Blankets, No Food. . . . My Heart Is Sick And Sad. . . . I Will Fight No More Forever.

I Saw That The War Could Not Be Prevented. The Time Had Passed.