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Geronimo, His Own Story 3
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Coming of the White Men
About the time of the massacre of "Kaskiyeh" (1858) we heard that some white
men were measuring land to the south of us. In company with a number of
other warriors I went to visit them. We could not understand them very well,
for we had no interpreter, but we made a treaty with them by shaking hands
and promising to be brothers. Then we made our camp near their camp, and
they came to trade with us. We gave them buckskin, blankets, and ponies in
exchange for shirts and provisions. We also brought them game, for which
they gave us some money. We did not know the value of this money, but we
kept it and later learned from the Navajo Indians that it was very valuable.
Every day they measured land with curious instruments and put down marks
which we could not understand. They were good men, and we were sorry when
they had gone on into the west. They were not soldiers. These were the first
white men I ever saw.
About ten years later some more white men came. These were all warriors.
They made their camp on the Gila River south of Hot Springs. At first they
were friendly and we did not dislike them, but they were not as good as
those who came first.
After about a year some trouble arose between them and the Indians, and I
took the war path as a warrior, not as a chief. I had not been wronged, but
some of my people bad been, and I fought with my tribe; for the soldiers and
not the Indians were at fault.
Not long after this some of the officers of the United States troops invited
our leaders to hold a conference at Apache Pass (Fort Bowie). Just before
noon the Indians were shown into a tent and told that they would be given
something to eat. When in the tent they were attacked by soldiers. our
chief, Mangus-Colorado, and several other warriors, by cutting through the
tent, escaped; but most of the warriors were killed or captured. Among the
Bedonkohe Apaches killed at this time were Sanza, Kladetahe, Niyokahe, and
Gopi.After this treachery the Indians went back to the mountains and left
the fort entirely alone. I do not think that the agent had anything to do
with planning this, for he had always treated us well. I believe it was
entirely planned by the soldiers.
From the very first the soldiers sent out to our western country, and the
officers in charge of them, did not hesitate to wrong the Indians. They
never explained to the Government when an Indian was wronged, but always
reported the misdeeds of the Indians. Much that was done by mean white men
was reported at Washington as the deeds of my people.
The Indians always tried to live peaceably with the white soldiers and
settlers. One day during the time that the soldiers were stationed at Apache
Pass I made a treaty with the post. This was done by shaking hands and
promising to be brothers. Cochise and Mangus-Colorado did likewise. I do not
know the name of the officer in command, but this was the first regiment
that ever came to Apache Pass. This treaty was made about a year before we
were attacked in a tent, as above related. In a few days after the attack at
Apache Pass we organized in the mountains and returned to fight the
soldiers. There were two tribes-the Bedonkohe and the Chokonen Apaches, both
commanded by Cochise. After a few days' skirmishing we attacked a freight
train that was coming in with supplies for the Fort. We killed some of the
men and captured the others. These prisoners our chief offered to trade for
the Indians whom the soldiers had captured at the massacre in the tent. This
the officers refused, so we killed our prisoners, disbanded, and went into
hiding in the mountains. Of those who took part in this affair I am the only
one now living.
In a few days troops were sent out to search for us, but as we were
disbanded, it was, of course, impossible for them to locate any hostile
camp. During the time they were searching for us many of our warriors (who
were thought by the soldiers to be peaceable Indians) talked to the officers
and men, advising them where they might find the camp they sought, and while
they searched we watched them from our hiding places and laughed at their
failures.
After this trouble all of the Indians agreed not to be friendly with the
white men any more. There was no general engagement, but a long struggle
followed. Sometimes we attacked the white men, sometimes they attacked us.
First a few Indians would be killed and then a few soldiers. I think the
killing was about equal on each side. The number killed in these troubles
did not amount to much, but this treachery on the part of the soldiers had
angered the Indians and revived memories of other wrongs, so that we never
again trusted the United States troops.
Greatest of Wrongs
Perhaps the greatest wrong ever done to the Indians was the treatment
received by our tribe from the United States troops about 1863. The chief of
our tribe, Mangus-Colorado, went to make a treaty of peace for our people
with the white settlement at Apache Tejo, New Mexico. It had been reported
to us that the white men in this settlement were more friendly and more
reliable than those in Arizona, that they would live up to their treaties
and would not wrong the Indians.
Mangus-Colorado, with three other warriors, went to Apache Tejo and held a
council with these citizens and soldiers. They told him that if he would
come with his tribe and live near them, they would issue to him, from the
Government, blankets, flour, provisions, beef, and all manner of supplies.
Our chief promised to return to Apache Tejo within two weeks. When he came
back to our settlement he assembled the whole tribe in council. I did not
believe that the people at Apache Tejo would do as they said and therefore I
opposed the plan, but it was decided that with part of the tribe
Mangus-Colorado should return to Apache Tejo and receive an issue of rations
and supplies. If they were as represented, and if these white men would keep
the treaty faithfully, the remainder of the tribe would join him and we
would make our permanent home at Apache Tejo. I was to remain in charge of
that portion of the tribe which stayed in Arizona. We gave almost all of our
arms and ammunition to the party going to Apache Tejo, so that in case there
should be treachery they would be prepared for any surprise. Mangus-Colorado
and about half of our people went to New Mexico, happy that now they had
found white men who would be kind to them, and with whom they could live in
peace and plenty.
No word ever came to us from them. From other sources, however, we heard
that they had been treacherously captured and slain. In this dilemma we did
not know just exactly what to do, but fearing that the troops who had
captured them would attack us, we retreated into the mountains near Apache
Pass.
During the weeks that followed the departure of our people we had been in
suspense, and failing to provide more supplies, had exhausted all of our
store of provisions. This was another reason for moving camp. On this
retreat, while passing through the mountains, we discovered four men with a
herd of cattle. Two of the men were in front in a buggy and two were behind
on horseback. We killed all four, but did not scalp them; they were not
warriors. We drove the cattle back into the mountains, made a camp, and
began to kill the cattle and pack the meat.
Before we had finished this work we were surprised and attacked by United
States troops, who killed in all seven Indians -one warrior, three women,
and three children. The Government troops were mounted and so were we, but
we were poorly armed, having given most of our weapons to the division of
our tribe that had gone to Apache Tejo, so we fought mainly with spears,
bows, and arrows. At first I had a spear, a bow, and a few arrows; but in a
short time my spear and all my arrows were gone. Once I was surrounded, but
by dodging from side to side of my horse as he ran I escaped. It was
necessary during this fight for many of the warriors to leave their horses
and escape on foot. But my horse was trained to come at call, and as soon as
I reached a safe place, if not too closely pursued, I would call him to me.
During this fight we scattered in all directions and two days later
reassembled at our appointed place of rendezvous, about fifty miles from the
scene of this battle.
About ten days later the same United States troops attacked our new camp at
sunrise. The fight lasted all day, but our arrows and spears were all gone
before ten o'clock, and for the remainder of the day we had only rocks and
clubs with which to fight. We could do with these weapons, and at night we
moved our camp about four miles back into the mountains where it would be
hard for the cavalry to follow us. The next day our scouts, who had been
left behind to observe the movements of the soldiers, returned, saying that
the troops had gone back toward San Carlos Reservation.
A few days after this we were again attacked by another company of United
States troops. Just before this fight we had been joined by a band of
Chokonen Indians under Cochise, who took command of both divisions. We were
repulsed, and decided to disband.
After we had disbanded our tribe the Bedonkohe Apaches reassembled near
their old camp vainly waiting for the return of Mangus-Colorado and our
kinsmen. No tidings came save that they had all been treacherously slain.
Then a council was held, and as it was believed that Mangus-Colorado was
dead, I was elected Tribal Chief.
For a long time we had no trouble with anyone. It was more than a year after
I had been made Tribal Chief that United States troops surprised and
attacked our camp. They killed seven children, five women, and four
warriors, captured all our supplies, blankets, horses, and clothing, and
destroyed our tepees. We had nothing left; winter was beginning, and it was
the coldest winter I ever knew. After the soldiers withdrew I took three
warriors and trailed them. Their trail led back toward San Carlos.
Removals
While returning from trailing the Government troops we saw two men, a
Mexican and a white man, and shot them off their horses. With these two
horses we returned and moved our camp. My people were suffering much and it
was deemed advisable to go where we could get more provisions. Game was
scarce in our range then, and since I had been Tribal Chief I had not asked
for rations from the Government, nor did I care to do so, but we did not
wish to starve.
We had heard that Chief Victoria of the Chihenne (Oje Caliente) Apaches was
holding a council with the white men near Hot Springs in New Mexico, and
that he had plenty of provisions. We had always been on friendly terms with
this tribe, and Victoria was especially kind to my people. With the help of
the two horses we had captured, to carry our sick with us, we went to Hot
Springs. We easily found Victoria and his band, and they gave us supplies
for the winter. We stayed with them for about a year, and during this stay
we had perfect peace. We had not the least trouble with Mexicans, white men,
or Indians. When we had stayed as long as we should, and had again
accumulated some supplies, we decided to leave Victoria's band. When I told
him that we were going to leave he said that we should have a feast and
dance before we separated.
The festivities were held about two miles above Hot Springs, and lasted for
four days. There were about four hundred Indians at this celebration. I do
not think we ever spent a more pleasant time than upon this occasion. No one
ever treated our tribe more kindly than Victoria and his band. We are still
proud to say that he and his people were our friends.
When I went to Apache Pass (Fort Bowie) I found General Howard in command,
and made a treaty with him. This treaty lasted until long after General
Howard had left our country. He always kept his word with us and treated us
as brothers. We never had so good a friend among the United States officers
as General Howard. We could have lived forever at peace with him. If there
is any pure, honest white man in the United States army, that man is General
Howard. All the Indians respect him, and even to this day frequently talk of
the happy times when General Howard was in command of our Post. After he
went away he placed an agent at Apache Pass who issued to us from the
Government clothing, rations, and supplies, as General Howard directed. When
beef was issued to the Indians I got twelve steers for my tribe, and Cochise
got twelve steers for his tribe. Rations were issued about once a month, but
if we ran out we only had to ask and we were supplied. Now, as prisoners of
war in this Reservation, we do not get such good rations.
Out on the prairie away from Apache Pass a man kept a store and saloon. Some
time after General Howard went away a band of outlawed Indians killed this
man, and took away many of the supplies from his store. On the very next day
after this some Indians at the Post were drunk on "tiswin", which they had
made from corn. They fought among themselves and four of them were killed.
There had been quarrels and feuds among them for some time, and after this
trouble we deemed it impossible to keep the different bands together in
peace. Therefore we separated, each leader taking his own band. Some of them
went to San Carlos and some to Old Mexico, but I took my tribe back to Hot
Springs and rejoined Victoria's band.
In Prison and on the War Path
Soon after we arrived in New Mexico two companies of scouts were sent from
San Carlos. When they came to Hot Springs they sent word for me and Victoria
to come to town. The messengers did not say what they wanted with us, but as
they seemed friendly we thought they wanted a council, and rode in to meet
the officers. As soon as we arrived in town soldiers met us, disarmed us,
and took us both to headquarters, where we were tried by court-martial. They
asked us only a few questions and then Victoria was released and I was
sentenced to the guardhouse. Scouts conducted me to the guardhouse and put
me in chains. When I asked them why they did this they said it was because I
had left Apache Pass.
I do not think that I ever belonged to those soldiers at Apache Pass, or
that I should have asked them where I might go. Our bands could no longer
live in peace together, and so we had quietly withdrawn, expecting to live
with Victoria's band, where we thought we would not be molested. They also
sentenced seven other Apaches to chains in the guardhouse.
I do not know why this was done, for these Indians had simply followed me
from Apache Pass to Hot Springs. If it was wrong (and I do not think it was
wrong) for us to go to Hot Springs, I alone was to blame. They asked the
soldiers in charge why they were imprisoned and chained, but received no
answer.
I was kept a prisoner for four months, during which time I was transferred
to San Carlos. Then I think I had another trial, although I was not present.
In fact I do not know that I had another trial, but I was told that I had,
and at any rate I was released.
After this we had no more trouble with the soldiers, but I never felt at
ease any longer at the Post. We were allowed to live above San Carlos at a
place now called Geronimo. A man whom the Indians called "Nick Golee" was
agent at this place. All went well here for a period of two years, but we
were not satisfied.
In the summer of 1883 a rumor was current that the officers were again
planning to imprison our leaders. This rumor served to revive the memory of
all our past wrongs-the massacre in the tent at Apache Pass, the fate of
Mangus Colorado, and my own unjust imprisonment, which might easily have
been death to me. Just at this time we were told that the officers wanted us
to come up the river above Geronimo to a fort (Fort Thomas) to hold a
council with them. We did not believe that any good could come of this
conference, or that there was any need of it; so we held a council
ourselves, and fearing treachery, decided to leave the reservation. We
thought it more manly to die on the war path than to be killed in prison.
There were in all about 250 Indians, chiefly the Bedonkohe and Nedni
Apaches, led by myself and Whoa. We went through Apache Pass and just west
of there had a fight with the United States troops. In this battle we killed
three soldiers and lost none.
We went on toward Old Mexico, but on the second day after this United States
soldiers overtook us about three o'clock in the afternoon and we fought
until dark. The ground where we were attacked was very rough, which was to
our advantage, for the troops were compelled to dismount in order to fight
us. I do not know how many soldiers were killed, but we lost only one
warrior and three children. We had plenty of guns and ammunition at this
time. Many of the guns and much ammunition we had accumulated while living
in the reservation, and the remainder we had obtained from the White
Mountain Apaches when we left the reservation.
Troops did not follow us any longer, so we went south almost to Casa Grande
and camped in the Sierra de Sahuaripa Mountains. We ranged in the mountains
of Old Mexico for about a year, then returned to San Carlos, taking with us
a herd of cattle and horses.
Soon after we arrived at San Carlos the officer in charge, General Crook,
took the horses and cattle away from us. I told him that these were not
white men's cattle, but belonged to us, for we had taken them from the
Mexicans during our wars. I also told him that we did not intend to kill
these animals, but that we wished to keep them and raise stock on our range.
He would not listen to me, but took the stock. I went up near Fort Apache
and General Crook ordered officers, soldiers, and scouts to see that I was
arrested; if I offered resistance they were instructed to kill me.
This information was brought to me by the Indians. When I learned of this
proposed action I left for Old Mexico, and about four hundred Indians went
with me. They were the Bedonkohe, Chokonen, and Nedni Apaches. At this time
Whoa was dead, and Naiche was the only chief with me. We went south into
Sonora and camped in the mountains. Troops followed us, but did not attack
us until we were camped in the mountains west of Casa Grande. Here we were
attacked by Government Indian scouts. One boy was killed and nearly all of
our women and children were captured.
After this battle we went south of Casa Grande and made camp, but within a
few days this camp was attacked by Mexican soldiers. We skirmished with them
all day, killing a few Mexicans but sustaining no loss ourselves.
That night we went east into the foot hills of the Sierra Madre Mountains
and made another camp. Mexican troops trailed us, and after a few days
attacked our camp again. This time the Mexicans had a very large army, and
we avoided a general engagement. It is senseless to fight when you cannot
hope to win.
That night we held a council of war; our scouts had reported bands of United
States and Mexican troops at many points in the mountains. We estimated that
about two thousand soldiers were ranging these mountains seeking to capture
us. General Cook had come down into Mexico with the United States troops.
They were camped in the Sierra de Antunez Mountains. Scouts told me that
General Crook wished to see me and I went to his camp. When I arrived
General Crook said to me,
"Why did you leave the reservation?"
I said:
"You told me that I might live in the reservation the same as white people
lived. One year I raised a crop of corn, and gathered and stored it, and the
next year I put in a crop of oats, and when the crop was almost ready to
harvest, you told your soldiers to put me in prison, and if I resisted to
kill me. If I had been let alone l would now have been in good
circumstances, but instead of that you and the Mexicans are hunting me with
soldiers".
He said:
"I never gave any such orders; the troops at Fort Apache, who spread this
report, knew that it was untrue".
Then I agreed to go back with him to San Carlos. It was hard for me to
believe him at that time. Now I know that what he said was untrue, and I
firmly believe that he did issue the orders for me to be put in prison, or
to be killed in case I offered resistance.
The Final Struggle
We started with all our tribe to go with General Crook back to the United
States, but I feared treachery and decided to remain in Mexico. We were not
under any guard at the time. The United States troops marched in front and
the Indians followed, and when we became suspicious, we turned back. I do
not know how far the United States army went after myself, and some warriors
turned back before we were missed, and I do not care.
I have suffered much from such unjust orders as those of General Crook. Such
acts have caused much distress to my people. I think that General Crook's
death was sent by the Almighty as a punishment for the many evil deeds he
committed.
Soon General Miles was made commander of all the western posts, and troops
trailed us continually. They were led by Captain Lawton, who had good scout.
The Mexican soldiers also became more active and more numerous. We had
skirmishes almost every day, and so we finally decided to break up into
small bands. With six men and four women I made for the range of mountains
near Hot Springs, New Mexico. We passed many cattle ranches, but had no
trouble with the cowboys. We killed cattle to eat whenever we were in need
of food, but we frequently suffered greatly for water. At one time we had no
water for two days and nights and our horses almost died from thirst. We
ranged in the mountains of New Mexico for some time, then thinking that
perhaps the troops had left Mexico, we returned. On our return through Old
Mexico we attacked every Mexican found, even if for no other reason than to
kill. We believed they had asked the United States troops to come down to
Mexico to fight us.
South of Casa Grande, near a place called by the Indians Gosoda, there was a
road leading out from the town. There was much freighting carried on by the
Mexicans over this road. Where the road ran through a mountain pass we
stayed in hiding, and whenever Mexican freighters passed we killed them,
took what supplies we wanted, and destroyed the remainder. We were reckless
of our lives, because we felt that every man's hand was against us. If we
returned to the reservation we would be put in prison and killed; if we
stayed in Mexico they would continue to send soldiers to fight us; so we
gave no quarter to anyone and asked no favors.
After some time we left Gosoda and soon were reunited with our tribe in the
Sierra de Antunez Mountains.
Contrary to our expectations the United States soldiers had not left the
mountains in Mexico, and were soon trailing us and skirmishing with us
almost every day. Four or five times they surprised our camp. One time they
surprised us about nine o'clock in the morning, and captured all our horses
(nineteen in number) and secured our store of dried meats. We also lost
three Indians in this encounter. About the middle of the afternoon of the
same day we attacked them from the rear as they were passing through a
prairie -killed one soldier, but lost none ourselves. In this skirmish we
recovered all our horses except three that belonged to me. The three horses
that we did not recover were the best riding horses we had.
Soon after this we made a treaty with the Mexican troops. They told us that
the United States troops were the real cause of these wars, and agreed not
to fight any more with us provided we would return to the United States.
This we agreed to do, and resumed our march, expecting to try to make a
treaty with the United States soldiers and return to Arizona. There seemed
to be no other course to pursue.
Soon after this scouts from Captain Lawton's troops told us that he wished
to make a treaty with us; but I knew that General Miles was the chief of the
American troops, and I decided to treat with him.
We continued to move our camp northward, and the American troops also moved
northward, keeping at no great distance from us, but not attacking us.
I sent my brother Porico (White Horse) with Mr. George Wratton on to Fort
Bowie to see General Miles, and to tell him that we wished to return to
Arizona; but before these messengers returned I met two Indian scouts
-Kayitah, a Chokonen Apache, and Marteen, a Nedni Apache. They were serving
as scouts for Captain Lawton's troops.They told me that General Miles had
come and had sent them to ask me to meet him. So I went to the camp of the
United States troops to meet General Miles.
When I arrived at their camp I went directly to General Miles and told him
how I had been wronged, and that I wanted to return to the United States
with my people, as we wished to see our families, who had been captured and
taken away from us.
General Miles said to me:
"The President of the United States has sent me to speak to you. He has
heard of your trouble with the white men, and says that if you will agree to
a few words of treaty we need have no more trouble. Geronimo, if you will
agree to a few words of treaty all will be satisfactorily arranged."
So General Miles told me how we could be brothers to each other. We raised
our hands to heaven and said that the treaty was not to be broken. We took
an oath not to do any wrong to each other or to scheme against each other.
Then he talked with me for a long time and told me what he would do for me
in the future if I would agree to the treaty. I did not greatly believe
General Miles, but because the President of the United States had sent me
word I agreed to make the treaty, and to keep it. Then I asked General Miles
what the treaty would be. General Miles said to me:
"I will take you under Government protection; I will build you a house; I
will fence you much land; I will give you cattle, horses, mules, and farming
implements. You will be furnished with men to work the farm, for you
yourself will not have to work. In the fall I will send you blankets and
clothing so that you will not suffer from cold in the winter time.
"There is plenty of timber, water, and grass in the land to which I will
send you. You will live with your tribe and with your family. If you agree
to this treaty you shall see your family within five days."
I said to General Miles:
"All the officers that have been in charge of the Indians have talked that
way, and it sounds like a story to me; I hardly believe you."
He said:
"This time it is the truth."
I said:
"General Miles, I do not know the laws of the white man, nor of this new
country where you are to send me, and I might break the laws."
He said:
"While I live you will not be arrested."
Then I agreed to make the treaty. (Since then I have been a prisoner of war,
I have been arrested and placed in the guardhouse twice for drinking
whisky.)
We stood between his troopers and my warriors. We placed a large stone on
the blanket before us. Our treaty was made by this stone, as it was to last
until the stone should crumble to dust; so we made the treaty, and bound
each other with an oath.
I do not believe that I have ever violated that treaty; but General Miles
never fulfilled his promises.
When we had made the treaty General Miles said to me:
"My brother, you have in your mind how you are going to kill me, and other
thoughts of war; I want you to put that out of your mind, and change your
thoughts to peace."
Then I agreed and gave up my arms. I said:
"I will quit the war path and live at peace here after."
Then General Miles swept a spot of ground clear with his hand, and said:
"Your past deeds shall be wiped out like this and you will start a new
life."
A Prisoner of War
When I had given up to the Government they put me on the Southern Pacific
Railroad and took me to San Antonio, Texas, and held me to be tried by their
laws.
In forty days they took me from there to Fort Pickens (Pensacola), Florida.
Here they put me to sawing up large logs. There were several other Apache
warriors with me, and all of us had to work every day. For nearly two years
we were kept at hard labor in this place and we did not see our families
until May, 1887. This treatment was in direct violation of our treaty made
at Skeleton Canyon.
After this we were sent with our families to Vermont, Alabama, where we
stayed five years and worked for the Government. We had no property, and I
looked in vain for General Miles to send me to that land of which he had
spoken; I longed in vain for the implements, house, and stock that General
Miles had promised me.
During this time one of my warriors, Fun, killed himself and his wife.
Another one shot his wife and then shot himself. He fell dead, but the woman
recovered and is still living.
We were not healthy in this place, for the climate disagreed with us. So
many of our people died that I consented to let one of my wives go to the
Mescalero Agency in New Mexico to live. This separation is according to our
custom equivalent to what the white people call divorce, and so she married
again soon after she got to Mescalero. She also kept our two small children,
which she had a right to do. The children, Lenna and Robbie, are still
living at Mescalero, New Mexico. Lenna is married. I kept one wife, but she
is dead now and I have only our daughter Eva with me. Since my separation
from Lenna's mother I have never had more than one wife at a time. Since the
death of Eva's mother I married another woman (December, 1905) but we could
not live happily and separated. She went home to her people-that is an
Apache divorce.
Then, as now, Mr. George Wratton superintended the Indians. He has always
had trouble with the Indians, because he has mistreated them. One day an
Indian, while drunk, stabbed Mr. Wratton with a little knife. The officer in
charge took the part of Mr. Wratton and the Indian was sent to prison.
When we first came to Fort Sill, Captain Scot was in charge, and he had
houses built for us by the Government. We were also given, from the
Government, cattle, hogs, turkeys and chickens. The Indians did not do much
good with the hogs. because they did not understand how to care for them,
and not many Indians even at the present time keep hogs. We did better with
the turkeys and chickens, but with these we did not have as good luck as
white men do. With the cattle we have done very well indeed, and we like to
raise them. We have a few horses also, and have had no bad luck with them.
In the matter of selling our stock and grain there has been much
misunderstanding. The Indians understood that the cattle were to be sold and
the money given to them, but instead part of the money is given to the
Indians and part of it is placed in what the officers call the "Apache
Fund." We have had five different officers in charge of the Indians here and
they have all ruled very much alike-not consulting the Apaches or even
explaining to them. It may be that the Government ordered the officers in
charge to put this cattle money into an Apache fund, for once I complained
and told Lieutenant Purington that I intended to report to the Government
that he had taken some of my part of the cattle money and put it into the
Apache Fund, he said he did not care if I did tell.
Several years ago the issue of clothing ceased. This, too, may have been by
the order of the Government, but the Apaches do not understand it.
If there is an Apache Fund, it should some day be turned over to the
Indians, or at least they should have an account of it, for it is their
earnings.
When General Miles last visited Fort Sill I asked to be relieved from labor
on account of my age. I also remembered what General Miles had promised me
in the treaty and told him of it. He said I need not work any more except
when I wished to, and since that time I have not been detailed to do any
work. I have worked a great deal, however, since then, for, although I am
old, I like to work and help my people as much as I am able. |
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Native American Nations
