I tell you that I am poor; who is the cause of it? not myself; it is my young men. That is all I have to say. I give you my hand.
La-ceech-ne-sha-ru, the Knife Chief, a Pawnee Loup.
Father, Here I am before you. You see me. I am poor.
Father, I am a Pawnee wolf, and those you see there (pointing to his band) are Pawnee wolves.
Father, Look at my people, and see if they have any thing belonging to a white man.
Father, I tell you the truth, I am poor.
Father, Amongst my people, I believe, there is not an individual that has injured you. If any one of the other bands can say they have, let them speak.
Father, This medal which hangs upon my breast, I received from my red-headed father below (Governor {291} Clarke). I listened to his words, and on my return I told them to my people, and they believed.
Father, You see that I am old; but I do not recollect that myself, or any of my people, ever injured any of the whites.
Father, Neither my hands, nor those of my young men, have ever been stained with the blood of the Americans.