Everything The Power Of The

When I Got Back To My Father And Mother And Was Sitting Up There In Our Tepee, My Face Was Still All Puffed And My Legs And Arms Were Badly Swollen; But I Felt Good All Over And Wanted To Get Right Up And Run Around.

The 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.

The Song And The Drumming Were Like This: Behold, A Sacred Voice Is Calling You; All Over The Sky A Sacred Voice Is Calling.

Also, As I Lay There Thinking Of My Vision, I Could See It All Again And Feel The Meaning With A Part Of Me Like A Strange Power Glowing In My Body; But When The Part Of Me That Talks Would Try To Make Words For The Meaning, It Would Be Like Fog And Get Away From Me.

The Boys Of My People Began Very Young To Learn The Ways Of Men, And No One Taught Us; We Just Learned By Doing What We Saw, And We Were Warriors At A Time When Boys Now Are Like Girls.