Shortly before his murder in 1890, Sitting Bull said
to his biographer:
“When I was a boy, the Sioux owned the world. The sun rose and set on their land; they sent
ten thousand men to battle. Where are
the warriors today? Who slew them? Where are our lands? Who owns them? …. Is it wrong for me to love
my own? Is it wicked for me because my
skin is red? Because I am Sioux. Because I was born where my fathers
lived? Because I would die for my people
and my country? I wish it to be
remembered that I was the last man of my tribe to surrender my rifle.”