While Living I Want To Live Well.

We Had No Churches, No Religious Organizations, No Sabbath Day, No Holidays, And Yet We Worshiped. Sometimes The Whole Tribe Would Assemble To Sing And Pray; Sometimes A Smaller Number, Perhaps Only Two Or Three. The Songs Had A Few Words, But Were Not Formal. The Singer Would Occasionally Put In Such Words As He Wished Instead Of The Usual Tone Sound. Sometimes We Prayed In Silence; Sometimes Each One Prayed Aloud; Sometimes An Aged Person Prayed For All Of Us. At Other Times One Would Rise And Speak To Us Of Our Duties To Each Other And To Usen. Our Services Were Short.

Late One Afternoon When Returning From Town We Were Met By A Few Women And Children Who Told Us That Mexican Troops From Some Other Town Had Attacked Our Camp, Killed All The Warriors Of The Guard, Captured All Our Ponies, Secured Our Arms, Destroyed Our Supplies, And Killed Many Of Our Women And Children.. When All Were Counted, I Found That My Aged Mother, My Young Wife, And My Three Small Children Were Among The Slain.

I Was Born Where There Were No Enclosures.

I Was Warmed By The Sun, Rocked By The Winds And Sheltered By The Trees As Other Indian Babes. I Was Living Peaceably When People Began To Speak Bad Of Me. Now I Can Eat Well, Sleep Well And Be Glad. I Can Go Everywhere With A Good Feeling.

Since My Life As A Prisoner Has Begun I Have Heard The Teachings Of The White Man's Religion, And In Many Respects Believe It To Be Better Than The Religion Of My Fathers