"This land belongs to Congress," began Guy.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but Congress never had a right or never will have a right to own one foot of this ground," said the Indian, speaking with some animation. "It belongs to us, and we are bound to defend it."
"Did we not make a treaty with some of your big men to have the right of way through this country?" said Guy.
"But why did you not take the sense of the nation on it? Red Cloud is a 'big man,' and he is decidedly opposed to it. You have taken one reservation after another from us and the Indian has nothing left. We propose to do as any brave people would do—fight for this country as long as there is a man left. This home is all we have, and we will not give it up until we are whipped. This is the sixth time you have made us promises, and not one of them has been fulfilled."
Guy Preston could not say anything in reply, for he knew that Winged Arrow told him the truth. The Indian then went on to tell of some of those treaties and the way the white man had broken faith with them; and he repeated them as though he were reading from a book. He had the words of Spotted Tail, a chief of the Brule Indians, almost by heart. He said that word came from the Great Father that the white men wanted to "borrow" the right of way from the Indians, and that the promises so made would last fifty years; but it was not true. The next treaty they made was with General Sherman, and they were told that the promises would last for twenty-five years; but it also was not true. The General said that the Indian should have all the land from the White River to the Missouri, cattle, oxen, and wagons to haul logs with, and that they should have $15 as an annuity; but it was false. The white man never came with the goods in his hand to let the Indian see how much he was going to get for the land he was told to give up, for then their hearts would be glad; but they got the land and forgot all their promises. Winged Arrow's heart was in the matter and for an hour he kept talking, while Guy could only sit still and listen.
"But it seems to me that you are making a big mistake," said he at last, when he saw a chance to crowd a word in edgewise. "What do you want to kill the soldiers for? They are not to blame because somebody has broken faith with you."
"I know that very well," said the Indian, straightening himself up on his horse and raising his hand above his head. "But don't you know that the soldiers are the bulwarks of civilization? The settlers would not come here if it were not for the soldiers. The most of us know that we are going to be whipped in the long run."
"You do know it? Then what have you those clothes on for?"
"Because I am bound to go down with the rest. I would not give a cent to live here on this prairie unless we could live as we were before."