WHITE WOLF'S SPEECH IN VERSE. 173 



ing drunk. That White Wolf did not become equally 

 so was owing altogether to his being a man of iron 

 constitution. Any thing but metal, it seemed to me, 

 must have been burnt out by the fiery draughts which 

 we saw the noble chief take down. A tin cupful of 

 "whisk," such as would have made the cork in a bot- 

 tle tight, was tossed off without a wink. 



Sachem, who took notes, rendered White Wolf's 

 speech at the council in verse, as follows : 



White brother, have pity ; the "White "Wolf is poor, 

 The skin of his belly is shrunk to his back ; 



A gallon of whisky is good for a cure, 



If followed by plenty of " bacon and tack." 



The red man is noble, big Injun is me : 

 Like berries all crimson and ready to pick, 



The scalps on my pole are a heap good to see 

 Good medicine they when poor Injun is sick. 



The red man is truth, and the white one is lies ; 



The first suffers wrong at hand of the other ; 

 The way they skin us is good for sore eyes, 



The way we skin them astonishing, rather. 



They rob us of guns and offer us plows, 



And tell us to farm it, to go into corn ; 

 We 're good to raise hair, and good to raise rows, 



And good to raise essence of corn in a horn. 



Go back to your cities and leave us our home, 



Or off with your scalp and that remnant of shirt ; 



Go, let the poor Injun in happiness roam, 

 And live on his buffalo, puppies, and dirt. 



