Wabashaw, Dakota Indian 1815
My Father, what is this I see before me? A few knives and blankets. Is this all you promised at the beginning of the war? Where are those promises you made at Michilimackinac, and sent to our villages on the Mississippi? You told us that you would never let fall the hatchet until the Americans were driven beyond the Alleghenies; that our British father would never make peace without consulting his red children. Has that come to pass?
We never knew of this peace. We are told it was made by our Great Father beyond the big waters, without the knowledge of his war-chiefs; that it is your duty to obey his orders. What is this to us? Will these paltry presents pay for the men we have lost, both in battle and on the road? Will they soothe the feelings of our friends? Will they make good your promises?
For myself, I am an old man. I have always found means of subsistence, and I can do so still! Perhaps my young men may pick up the present you lay before us. I do not want them!