Like The Grasses Showing Tender

Grandfather, Great Spirit, Once More Behold Me On Earth And Lean To Hear My Feeble Voice.

I Had A Vision With Which I Might Have Saved My People, But I Had Not The Strength To Do It.

The Soldiers Did Go Away And Their Towns Were Torn Down; And In The Moon Of Falling Leaves (november), They Made A Treaty With Red Cloud That Said Our Country Would Be Ours As Long As Grass Should Grow And Water Flow.

I Did Not Know Then How Much Was Ended. When I Look Back Now From This High Hill Of My Old Age, I Can Still See The Butchered Women And Children Lying Heaped And Scattered All Along The Crooked Gulch As Plain As When I Saw Them With Eyes Still Young. And I Can See That Something Else Died There In The Bloody Mud, And Was Buried In The Blizzard. A People's Dream Died There. It Was A Beautiful Dream.

Let Every Step You Take Upon The Earth Be As A Prayer.