The Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky? The warmth of the land? How can you own the rain and the wind? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?

Every part of this earth is sacred to our people. Every shining pine needle. Every sandy shore. Every mist in the dark woods. Every meadow and every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of our people.

We know the sap that courses through the trees as we know the blood that flows through our veins. We are part of the earth as it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, there are our brothers. The rocky crests, the meadows, the ponies and man, all belong to the same family.

The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not simply water, but the blood of our gradfather's grandfather. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each ghostly reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tell of events and memories in the life of our people. The water's murmur is the voice of our great-great grandmothers.

The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give to the rivers the kindness you would give to any brother.

If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all life it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather he first breath also recieves his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell you our land, you must keep the land and air apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.

Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.

This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

One thing we know: Our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator.

Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo all are slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted by talking wires? When will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what will happen when we say good-bye to the swift pony and hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.

When the last Red Man has vanished with his wilderness and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across a prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirits of my people left?

We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you recieve it. Preserve the land and the air and the rivers for your children's children and love it as God loves us all.

As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you. One thing we know: There is only one God. No man, be he Red Man or White Man, can be apart. We are brothers after all.