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 of my taking my people, who were already starving, to go three hundred miles through snow waist-deep. I told my people what the letter said. They all laughed and said,

“We are not disappointed. We always said that the Big Father was just like all the white people.”

What could we say? We were only ashamed because we came and told them lies which the white people had told us.

“You must make that up yourselves,” they said, “for you have been to the white people’s country, and all the white people say the Big Father at Washington never tells a lie.”

My father rose and told his people he did not blame them for talking as they did.

“I say, my dear children, every word we have told you was said to us. Yes, they have said or done more than this. They have given us a paper which your mother will tell you of.”

Then he called me and said,—

“Read the paper; your brother will interpret for you.”

I did as I was told. I read very slowly. My brother did nicely, and after it was over my uncle, Captain John, rose and spoke, saying, “My dear people, I have lived many years with white people. Yes, it is over thirty years, and I know a great many of them. I have never known one of them do what they promised. I think they mean it just at the time, but I tell you they are very forgetful. It seems to me, sometimes, that their memory is not good, and since I have understood them, if they say they will do so and so for me, I would say to them, now or never, and if they don’t, why it is because they never meant to do, but only to say so. These are your white brothers’ ways, and they are a weak people.” Some of them said,—

“Oh, maybe he will send back our people.” Others