Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1881-08-04
INDIAN ELOQUENCE.
sitting Bulls Appeal 70 His
People.

| Laramie Boomerang.l
The following speech of Sitting Bul
has been specially translated and re
ported by our Indian editor, who i
also wholesale and retail dealer in de
ceased languages, and general agen
for homemade Sioux rhetoric ant
smoke-canned Indian eloquence, new
laid Indian laments, with bed trim
mings, compiler Of novel and desirable
styles of war dances. Indian elo
quence furnished to debating clubs
and publishers of school readers:
Warriors and war-scarred veterans
Of the frontier-Once more the war
path is overgrown with bunch grass
and the tomahawk slumbers in the
wigwam of the red man. Grim-vis
aged war has given place to the piping
time of peace. The cold and crueI
winter is upon us. 1t has been upon
us for some time.
The wall of departed spirits is on
the night wind, and the wall of the
man with the children answers back
from the warrior S wigwam.
Children Of the forest, we are few
Where once the shrill warwhoop Of
the ohieitain collected our tribe like
the leaves of the forest, | might now
yell till the COWS come home without
bringing quorum.
We are fading away before the
march Of the paleface, aud sinking in
to oblivion like the snowflake on the
bosom of the Sinking Water.
Warriors, am the last of a mighty
race. We were race of chieftains.
Alas we will soon be gone. The Bull
family will soon pass from the face OF
the earth. Ole is gone, John is fail
ing, and | don't feel very we'll myself.
We are the victims of the paleiace,
and our lands are taken away.
A few more suns and the civiliza-
ton and valley tan and handmade
sour mash and horse liniment of the
paleface will have done their deadly
work.
Our squaws and pappoOses are scat
tered on the four winds Of heaven, and
we are left desolate.
Where is the Daughter of he-Tem-
pest? Where is the Wall-Eyed-Maid
en- of the Peeled Nose2
Where is Victoria Regina Die Ora
cia Sitting Bull2 Where is Knock
Kneed ChemIoon? Where is Swayback
Sue and Meek Eyed Government
Socks2
They have sunk beneath the fire.
water of the google. eyed Caucasian,
They have succumbed to the delirium
triangles, and when | call them they
come not. They do not hear my voice.
Their means are heard upon the night
air, and they cry for revenge. Look
at the sad remnant of the family of
Sitting Bull, your chief. One sore
eyed squaw is left alone. Her face
is furrowed Ger with the famine Of
many winters, and her nose is only the
ruin of its former greatness. Her
moceasins are worn out, and the sol
der pants she wears are too long for
her. She also is drunk. She is not
as drunk as she can get, but she is
hopeful and perseyering. She has
learned to lie ike a white man. She
is now an easy, extemporaneous liar.
When we gather about the camp fire
and enact our untutored lies in the
cleaning Lucretia Borgia Skowegan
Sitting Bull, with the inspiration Of
six fingers of agency coffin varnish,
proceeds to tell the prize prevarica-
ton, and then the house adjourns,
and nothing can be heard but the
muffied tread of the agency corn beef
going out to get some fresh air.
Lucretia Borgia is sitting out in the
shade in evening dress. Her look is
sad, and her hair is unbung. Pretty
soon. will take tomahawk and
bang it for her. She seems despond
emit and hopeless. Asshe leans against
the trunk Of mighty oak and scratch
es her back, you can see that her
thoughts are far away. Her other
suspender is gone, but she don't care
a cold, smooth clam. Sheis thinking
of her childhood days by the banks OF
the Minnehaha.
Warriors, we stand in the moccasins
of mighty nation. We represent
the starving remnant of a once power
full Sioux. Our pirogue stands idly
on the shore. l don't know what a
pirogue is, but it stands idly on the
shore.
When the spring flowers bloom
again and the grass is green upon the
plains, we will once more 60 on the
war-path; we will avenge the wrongs
of our nation. have not fully glut-
ted my vengance. | have seven or
eight more Gluts on hand, and will
shout our war-cry once more, and mu-
tilate some more Anglo-Saxons. We
will silence the avenging cries Of our
people; we will spatter the green grass
and gray greaseEood with the gore of
the pale.face, and feed the white
liveIed emigrants to the coyote; we
will spread death and desolatioD
everywhere, and fill the air with gum
overshoes and remains. Let 10 yield
up our lives dearly while we mash the
pale. faces beyond recognition, and
shoot his hired man SO full of holes
that he will look like a suspension
bridge.
Warriors, there is our hunting
ground. The buffalo, and antelope,
the sage hen and the jackass rabbits
are ours-ours to enjoy, ours to per-
petuate, ours to transmit. The Great
Spirit created these animals for the
red man, and not for the bilious tour
lists, between whose legs the chestnut
sunlight penetrates clear up to his
collar bone.
Then we will ride down on the reg
ular army when he is thinking Of
something else, and we will scare him
into commissions, and our medicine
men will attend to the commissions
while we sample the supplies.