There was a white man once with an idea. So modest was this man that he was unwilling that even his name and the idea should be linked together. He wanted the Indians to become better known to the whites, to themselves, to their children, and to the future generations of children. So he passed from one tribe to another and made known his plan to them. They were to write a book; a book that would contain a record of their thoughts and ideals, their songs and unwritten music, their folk-lore, their views of the past, and their beliefs in the mysterious future. The idea pleased them, grew on them, and ended in their becoming deeply interested. The book was prepared and printed and it contains the following touching and stately introduction by the High Chief of the Indian Tribes. It moves forward so like a majestic anthem, so solemn in its unspoken sorrow, so full of gentle dignity that it sweeps into our souls like the cadence of a great Amen:
"To the Great Chief at Washington, and the Chief of Peoples Across the Waters:
"Long ago, the Great Mystery caused this land to be, and made the Indians to live in this land. Well has the Indian fulfilled all the intent of the Great Mystery for Him. Through this book may men know that the Indian was made by the Great Mystery for a purpose.
"Once, only Indians lived in this land. Then came strangers from across the Great Waters. No land had they; we gave them of our land; no food had they; we gave them of our corn; the strangers have become many and they fill all the country. They dig gold—from my mountains; they build houses—of the trees of my forests; they rear cities—of my stones and rocks; they make fine garments—from the hides and wool of animals that eat my grass. None of the things that make their riches did they bring with them from across the Great Waters. All comes from my lands—the land the Great Mystery gave unto this Indian.
"And when I think on this, I know that it is right, even thus. In the heart of the Great Mystery, it was meant that the stranger—visitors—my friends across the Great Waters should come to my land; that I should bid them welcome; that all men should sit down with me and eat together of my corn; it was meant by the Great Mystery that the Indian should give to all peoples.
"But the white man never has known the Indian. It is thus: there are two roads, the white man's road, and the Indian's road. Neither traveler knows the road of the other. Thus ever has it been, from the long ago, even unto to-day. May this book help to make the Indian truly known in time to come.
"The Indian wise speakers in the book are the best men of their tribe. Only what is true is within this book. I want all Indians and white men to read and learn how the Indians lived and thought in the olden time and may it bring holy—good upon the younger Indian to know of their fathers. A little while and the old Indians will no longer be and the young will be even as white men. When I think, I know it is the mind of the Great Mystery that the white man and the Indians who fought together should now be one people.
"There are birds of many colors, red, blue, green, yellow—yet it is all one bird. There are horses of many colors, brown, black, yellow, white—yet it is all one horse. So cattle, so all living things—animals, flowers, trees. So man; in this land where once were only Indians and now men of every color—white, black, yellow, red—yet all one people. That this was to come to pass was in the heart of the Great Mystery. It is right thus, and everywhere there shall be peace."
(Sgd.) By Hiamovi (High Chief), Chief among the Cheyennes and Dakotas.
Who is the Indian? This question has been asked for more than four hundred years, and from out the buried silence of the past has come no answering voice. Columbus asked it as approaching the border of a New Hemisphere he gazed thoughtfully upon the features of another race of beings. Ferdinand and Isabella asked it, as these strange men doomed to vassalage stood proudly before them speaking in an unknown tongue. Cortez asked it, as he riveted the chains of servitude upon two million of them in the Conquest of Mexico. Coronado asked it, as his army moved among the wandering tribes with their differing languages and customs. The Pilgrim Fathers asked it with varying emotions, as they viewed the curious natives waiting for them on the bleak New England shores. France asked it, and trusted its most highly cultured scientist to bring reply. "Nothing," he said as he returned, "Nothing." He had visited many tribes, studied their languages, customs and character, read everything ever written about them, and he knew nothing and nothing ever will be known.