Hear me, my chiefs! I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.

I will speak with a straight tongue.

We gathered all the stock we could find, and made an attempt to move. We left many of our horses and cattle in Wallowa. We lost several hundred in crossing the river.

When my young men began the killing, my heart was hurt.

I am not a child, I think for myself. No man can think for me.

I did not want my people killed. I did not want bloodshed.

Whenever the white man treats the Indian as they treat each other, then we will have no more wars. We shall all be alike-brothers of one father and one another, with one sky above us and one country around us, and one government for all.