You may kill me here; but you cannot make me go back.
There we found a Cheyenne cannot live. So we came home. Better it was, we thought, to die fighting than to perish of sickness.
If our women are willing to die with us, who is there to say no?
It is only when the hearts of the Women are in the mud, that the People are destroyed.
I would rather die in freedom on my way back home than starve to death here.
I have lived my life. I am ready.
All we ask is to be allowed to live, and live in peace. We bowed to the will of the Great Father and went south.
We cannot stay another year; we want to go now, before another year has passed, we may all be dead, and there will be none of us left to travel north.
We will not go. The only way to get us there is to come in here with clubs and knock us on the head, and drag us out and take us down there dead.