Southport telegraph. [volume] (Southport, W.T. [i.e. Kenosha, Wis.]) 1840-1850, 1843-05-16
A BEAUTIFUL SPEECH.

The Natchez Free Trader contains
report of speech of CoBB, the celebra-
ted haf-breed chief of the Choctaws made
10 reply to J. J. McRAE: Esq, the agent
for enrolling and emigraing the Indians
to the west Of the Mississippi, who made
a speech to the Indians, abouut one thou
sand in number, assembled at Hopahka,
informing them that ''their council fires
could no more be kinded here;" that
their warriors can have no field for their
glory, and that their spirits viii decay
within them;" and that if they should
.'take the hand of their great father, the
President, which is now offered them TO
lead them TO their western homes. then
,, will their hopes be higher, their destines
brighter"
The Natchcz Courier appropriately says
Of this bit of eloquence that, for compre-
hensiveness and brevity, for beauty OF
diction and force, for affecting subllmlty
and propriety Of sentiment, we have never
seen any production to exceed it. We
publish il as composition worthy to be
preserved. Nat Intel.
Brother We have heard you talk as
from the lips Of our father, the great
White Chief at Washington, and my peo-
pie have called upon me TO speak to you.
The red man has no books, and when he
wishes to make known his views. like his
father before him, he speaks from his
mouth. Ie is afraid of writing. Wen
he speaks he knows what he says: he
Great Spirit hears hun. Writing is
the invention Of the pale faces; it gives
birth 10 error and to feuds. The Gieat
Spirit taks--we hear him in the thunder, in
the rushing winds, and the mighty waters
but he nevsf writes.
Brother: When you were young we
were strong, we fought by your side bat
our arms are now broken. You have
grown large. My people have become
| small.
Brother NJ voice is weak you can
scarcely hear me It is not the shout of
warrior but the wall of an infant. have
lost 1t in mourning over the msfortunes Of
| my people. These are their graves, and
in those aged pines you hear the ghosts of
the departed. Their ashes are here and
we have been left to project them. Tie
wall iDiS are HGhIff cli SCiC W idt
country west, but mere are our dead.
Shall we go too, and give their bones 10
| the wolves
Brother: Two sleeps have passed since
we heard you talk. We have slept upon
it. You ask us TO leave our country, and
tell US it is orr Fathers wish. We would
not desire 10 djspIease our Father We
respect him, and you his child. But the
Choctaw always thinks. We want time
to answer.
Brother: Our hearts are full. Twelve
winters ago our chiefs sold our country.
Every warrior that yol see here was OPP
posed to the treaty. If the dead could
have been counted, it could never have
been made; but alas though they stood
around they could not be seen or heard.
Their tears came in the rain drops, and
tlicir voices in the waling wind. but the
pale faces knew it not and our land was
taken away.
Brother: We do not complain. TIL
Choctaw suffers but he never weeps. You
have the strong arm, and we cannot re-
sist. But the pale face worships the
Grea: Spirit. So does the red man. The
Great Spirit loves truth. When you took
our country, YOU promised US land. There
is your promise in the book. Twelve
times have the trees dropped their leaves,
and yet We have received no land. Our
houses have been taken from US. The
white mans plough turns up the bones Of
our fathers. We dare not klndle our
fires and yet you said we might remain
and you would give US land.
Brother: Is this truth But we be-
lcive. now our Great Father knows our
condition, he will listen to US. We are as
mourning orphans in our country but
our Father will take us by the hand.
When he fuIils his promise, we will an
swer his talk. He means well. We
know it. But we cannot think now.
Grief has made children Of US. When
our business is settled we shall be men
again, and talk TO our Great Father about
what he has promised.
Brother: You stand in the moccasins
Of a great chief; you speak the words Of
mighty nation, and your talk was long.
NV people are small their shadow scarce
ed and gone: when shout | hear my
voice in the depths OF the woods, bat no
answering shout comes back. My words
therefore are few. have nothing more
to say, but tell what have said 20 the tall
chief Of the pale faces whose brother
stands by your side.