y brother, have you done, or is there aught you
would like yet to say to us?"

To this the priest made answer that he had no more to say.

"It is well," answered the Indian; "and listen now to what I say to you;
but first," he said, turning to his men, "you, my brethren, you, my sons,
who sit around me, if there should be aught in my words from which you
differ, if I say one word that you would not say yourselves, stop me, and
say to this black-robe I speak with a forked tongue." Then, turning again
to the priest, he continued, "You have spoken true, your words come
straight; the Long-knives are too many and too strong for us; their guns
shoot farther than ours, their big guns shoot twice" (alluding to shells
which exploded after they fell); "their numbers are as the buffalo were
in the days of our fathers. But what of all that? do you want us to
starve on the land which is ours? to lie down as slaves to the white man,
to die away one by one in misery and hunger? It is true that the
long-knives must kill us, but I say still, to my children and to my
tribe, fight on, fight on, fight on! go on fighting to the very last man;
and let that last man go on fighting too, for it is better to die thus,
as a brave man should die, than to live a little time and then die like a
coward. So now, my brethren, I tell you, as I have told you before, keep
fighting still. When you see these men coming along the river, digging
holes in the ground and looking for the little bright sand" (gold), "kill
them, for they mean to kill you; fight, and if it must be, die, for you
can only die once, and it is better to die than to starve."

He ceased, and a universal hum of approval running through the dusky
warriors told how truly the chief had spoken the thoughts of his
followers; Again he said, "What does the white man want in our land? You
tell us he is rich and strong, and has plenty of food to eat; for what
then does he come to our land? We have only the buffalo, and he takes
that from us. See the buffalo, how they dwell with us; they care not for
the closeness of our lodges, the smoke of our camp-fires does not fright
them, the shouts of our young men will not drive them away; but behold
how they flee from the sight, the sound, and the smell of the white man!
Why does he take the land from us? who sent him here? He puts up sticks,
and he calls the land his land, the river his river, the trees his trees.
Who gave him the ground, and the water,