Hear me, my chiefs! I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.

Good words will not give me back my children.

I would give up everything rather than have the blood of white men upon the hands of my people.

My father was the first to see through the schemes of the white man.

I want the white people to understand my people.

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.

We ask to be recognized as men.