Tishomingo, C.N., I. T., June 17^th, 1878

1. B. Meacham, Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir:— To-day I picked up two copies of your Council Fire, being the first I have seen. I am a Chickasaw Indian, and in spite of the expressed contempt by the white man, I am glad of it. Are we not equal? Surely God made us so mentally as well as physically. If we stand behind the white to-day in education, is it our fault? No! had the United States Government kept its pledges toward us, our schools would now be in full operation.

There is sorrow in the Indian’s home to-day. They (the whites) say our land is “too good” for us; it is only fit for the whites. And unless brave men like you stand up for us, sooner or later we perish from the face of the earth, because we are Indians. I did not know before that there was a with man brave enough to stand up and say in the Capital, “the Indian has been wronged.” But he has been wronged, and bitterly wronged. It speaks volumes when a Senator can in the Senate-room challenge his people to produce one single instance of an Indian treaty being carried out faithfully toward the Indians.

Will you answer this? Have the five civilized nations done anything against the United States government since the Rebellion? If not, why is that United States continually trying to gain our lands? for all these Territorial bills are nothing else but levers brought to bear on the destruction of the Indians’ titles. Will you, and brave men like you, allow this? We are trying to live godly lives; but sometimes I feel like an old Chickasaw Indian to whom I was describing heaven. Among other things I told him all would be brothers; that we should all live together in peace. Judge of my astonishment when he replied, “Is the white man going there?” I told him yes. Then he said, “I do not want to go there; heaven too good for Indian; white man wants it all; so Indian have to go.” And he refused to listen to me any longer. Tell your government we are not drunkards or thieves; that we are doing the best we can for ourselves.

I send you a few lines expressing the sentiment of my people:

The white man wants the Indian’s home,

He envies them their land;

And with his sweetest words he comes

To get it, if he can.

And if we will not give our lands

And plainly tell him so,

He then goes back, calls up his clans,

And says, “Let’s make them go.”

The question in the Indian’s mind

Is, where are we to go?

No other country can we find;

’Tis filled up with our foe.

We do not want one foot of land

The white man calls his own;

We ask nothing at his hands,

Save to be alone.

Send me a copy of the paper and I will forward you a dollar.—