I Could Never Resist The Call Of

With The Help Of A Friend I Got Father Into A Wagon, When The Crowd Had Gone. I Held His Head In My Lap During The Ride Home. I Believed He Was Mortally Wounded. He Had Been Stabbed Down Through The Kidneys, Leaving An Ugly Wound.

I Could Never Resist The Call Of The Trail.

Washington Newspaper Men Know Everything.

The Greatest Of All The Sioux In My Time, Or In Any Time For That Matter, Was That Wonderful Old Fighting Man, Sitting Bull, Whose Life Will Some Day Be Written By A Historian Who Can Really Give Him His Due.

I Was Persuaded Now That I Was Destined To Lead A Life On The Plains.