"13 January, 1874"

I have heard

 that you intend to settle us on the reservation near the

Mountains. I don't want to settle. I Love to roam over the Prairies.

There I feel  Free and Happy, but when we settle down we grow

 pale and die. I have laid aside my lance, bow, and shield, and yet

I feel safe in your presence. I have told you the Truth. I have no 

little lies hid about me, but I don't know how it is with the commissioners.

Are they as Clear as I am?  A long time ago this Land Belonged to our

Fathers; but when I go up to the River I see camps of soldiers on its banks.

These soldiers Cut down my Timber;

they Kill my Buffalo;

and when I See that, my Heart feels like Bursting;

I feel Sorry...

Has the white man Become a child

that he should Recklessly kill and not eat?

When the red men slay game,

They do so that they may Live

and

Not Starve.

~Santanta

Chief of the Kiowas

~Beannaichte'

12 February, 2013

@beannaichte.twitter.com