I wish it to be remembered that I was the last man of my tribe to surrender my rifle.
What white man has ever seen me drunk? Who has ever come to me hungry and left me unfed? Who has seen me beat my wives or abuse my children? What law have I broken?
What treaty that the whites have kept has the red man broken? Not one.
Is it wrong for me to love my own? Is it wicked for me because my skin is red? Because I am Sioux? Because I was born where my father lived? Because I would die for my people and my country?
Therefore, I do not wish to consider any proposition to cede any portion of our tribal holdings to the Great Father.
Strangely enough, they have a mind to till the soil, and the love of possessions is a disease in them.
