I was four years old then, and I think it must have been the next summer that I first heard the voices.
Black ElkI had a vision with which I might have saved my people, but I had not the strength to do it.
Black ElkThe life of an Indian is like the wings of the air. That is why you notice the hawk knows how to get his prey. The Indian is like that. The hawk swoops down on its prey, so does the Indian. In his lament he is like an animal. For instance, the coyote is sly, so is the Indian. The eagle is the same. That is why the Indian is always feathered up, he is a relative to the wings of the air.
Black Elk