It Takes Few Words To Tell The

When The Last Deer Disappears Into The Morning Mist, When The Last Elk Vanishes From The Hills, When The Last Buffalo Falls On The Plains, I Will Hunt Mice For I Am A Hunter And I Must Have My Freedom.

I Labored Hard To Avoid Trouble And Bloodshed.

Whenever The White Man Treats The Indian As They Treat Each Other Then We Shall Have No More Wars. We Shall Be All Alike - Brothers Of One Father And Mother, With One Sky Above Us And One Country Around Us And One Government For All. Then The Great Spirit Chief Who Rules Above Will Smile Upon This Land And Send Rain To Wash Out The Bloody Spots Made By Brothers' Hands Upon The Face Of The Earth. For This Time The Indian Race Is Waiting And Praying. I Hope No More Groans Of Wounded Men And Women Will Ever Go To The Ear Of The Great Spirit Chief Above, And That All People May Be One People.

If The White Man Wants To Live In Peace With The Indian, He Can Live In Peace. Treat All Men Alike. Give Them All The Same Law. Give Them All An Even Chance To Live And Grow. All Men Were Made By The Same Great Spirit Chief. They Are All Brothers. The Earth Is The Mother Of All People, And All People Should Have Equal Rights Upon It. Let Me Be A Free Man, Free To Travel, Free To Stop, Free To Work, Free To Trade Where I Choose, Free To Choose My Own Teachers, Free To Follow The Religion Of My Fathers, Free To Think And Talk And Act For Myself, And I Will Obey Every Law, Or Submit To The Penalty.

My Father Was The First To See Through The Schemes Of The White Man.