It Required A Strong Heart To Stand

We Live, We Die, And Like The Grass And Trees, Renew Ourselves From The Soft Earth Of The Grave. Stones Crumble And Decay, Faiths Grow Old And They Are Forgotten, But New Beliefs Are Born. The Faith Of The Villages Is Dust Now... But It Will Grow Again... Like The Trees.

I Saw That The War Could Not Be Prevented. The Time Had Passed.

Good Words Will Not Give Me Back My Children.

The Indian Race Is Waiting And Praying.

Our People Could Not Talk With These White-faced Men, But They Used Signs Which All People Understand.