And now when I look about me upon my people in despair,
I feel like crying
and I wish and wish my vision could have been given to a man more worthy.
I wonder why it came to me,
a pitiful old man who can do nothing.
Men and women and children I have cured of sickness with the power the vision gave me;
but my nation I could not help.
If a man or woman or child dies, it does not matter long,
for the nation lives on.
It was the nation that was dying,
and the vision was for the nation;
but I have done nothing with it.
It is hard to follow one great vision in this world of darkness and of many changing shadows. Among those shadows men get lost.
We followed down along the dry gulch, and what we saw was terrible.
Dead and wounded women and children and little babies were scattered all along there
where they had been trying to run away.
The soldiers had followed along the gulch, as they ran, and murdered them in there.
Sometimes they were in heaps because they had huddled together,
and some were scattered all along.
Sometimes bunches of them had been killed
and torn to pieces where the wagon guns hit them.
I saw a little baby trying to suck its
mother, but she was bloody and dead.