"'How long do you think the buffaloes will last?' Sitting Bull arose. 'We know,' said he, extending his right hand with an impressive gesture, 'that on the other side the buffaloes will not last very long. Why? Because the country over there is poisoned with blood—a poison that kills all the buffaloes or drives them away. It is strange,' he continued, with his peculiar smile, 'that the Americans should complain that the Indians kill buffaloes. We kill buffaloes, as we kill other animals, for food and clothing, and to make our lodges warm. They kill buffaloes for what? Go through your country. See the thousands of carcasses rotting on the plains. Your young men shoot for pleasure. All they take from a dead buffalo is his tail or his head, or his horns, perhaps, to show they have killed a buffalo. What is this? Is it robbery? You call us savages. What are they? The buffaloes have come north. We have come north to find them, and to get away from a place where the people tell lies.'"
"To gain time, and not to dwell importunately on a single point, I asked Sitting Bull to tell me something of his early life. In the first place, where he was born? 'I was born on the Missouri River; at least I recollect that somebody told me so—I don't know who told me or where I was told of it.'
"'Of what tribe are you?' 'I am an Uncpapa.'
"'Of the Sioux?' 'Yes; of the great Sioux nation.'
"'Who was your father?' 'My father is dead.'
"'Is your mother living?' 'My mother lives with me in my lodge.'
"'Great lies are told about you. White men say that you lived among them when you were young; that you went to school; that you learned to write and read from books; that you speak English; that you know how to talk French?' 'It is a lie.'
"'You are an Indian?' (Proudly) 'I am a Sioux.'
"Then suddenly relaxing from his hauteur. Sitting Bull began to laugh. 'I have heard,' he said, 'of some of these stories. They are all strange lies. What I am I am,' and here he leaned back and resumed his attitude and expression of barbaric grandeur. 'I am a man. I see, I know; I began to see when I was not yet born—when I was not in my mother's arms. It was then I began to study about my people. I studied about many things. I studied about the smallpox, that was killing my people—the great sickness that was killing the women and children. I was so interested that I turned over on my side. The Great Spirit must have told me at that time (and here he unconsciously revealed his secret), that I would be the man to be the judge of all the other Indians—a big man, to decide for them in all their ways.'