We have been travelling through a cloud. The sky has been dark ever since the war began.
We want to take good tidings home to our people, that they may sleep in peace.
But we want peace, I would move all my people down this way. I could then keep them all quietly near camp.
All we ask is that we have peace with the whites. We want to hold you by the hand. You are our father.
I want you to give all these chiefs of the soldiers here to understand that we are for peace, and that we have made peace, that we may not be mistaken by them for enemies.
Although the troops have struck us, we throw it all behind and are glad to meet you in peace and friendship.
We were once friends with the whites but you nudged us out of the way by your intrigues, and now when we are in council you keep nudging each other.
Why don't you talk, and go straight, and let all be well?
I once thought that I was the only man that persevered to be the friend of the white man, but since they have come and cleaned out our lodges, horses, and everything else, it is hard for to believe the white man any more.
