The harangue, eloquent as it is, suffers under all the disadvantages of translation, and is but the shadow of the substance, because the gestures, and the interests and feelings excited by the occasion, which constitute the essentials of its character, are altogether wanting.
Brothers,--We all belong to one family; we are all children of the Great Spirit; we walk in the same path; slake our thirst at the same spring; and now affairs of the greatest concern lead us to smoke the pipe around the same council fire! Brothers,--We are friends; we must assist each other to bear our burdens.

The blood of many of our fathers and brothers has run like water on the ground, to satisfy the avarice of the white men.

We, ourselves, are threatened with a great evil; nothing will pacify them but the destruction of all the red men.
Brothers,--When the white men first set foot on our grounds, they were hungry; they had no place on which to spread their blankets, or to kindle their fires.

They were feeble; they could do nothing for themselves.

Our fathers commiserated their distress, and shared freely with them whatever the Great Spirit had given his red children.