To Brigadier General H. Atkinson:
SIR--The changes of fortune and vicissitudes of war made you my
conqueror. When my last resources were exhausted, my warriors worn down
with long and toilsome marches, we yielded, and I became your prisoner.
The story of my life is told in the following pages: it is intimately
connected, and in some measure, identified, with a part of the history
of your own: I have, therefore, dedicated it to you.
The changes of many summers have brought old age upon me, and I can not
expect to survive many moons. Before I set out on my journey to the land
of my fathers, I have determined to give my motives and reasons for my
former hostilities to the whites, and to vindicate my character from
misrepresentation. The kindness I received from you whilst a prisoner
of war assures me that you will vouch for the facts contained in my
narrative, so far as they came under your observation.
I am now an obscure member of a nation that formerly honored and
respected my opinions. The pathway to glory is rough, and many gloomy
hours obscure it. May the Great Spirit shed light on yours, and that
you may never experience the humility that the power of the American
government has reduced me to, is the wish of him, who, in his native
forests, was once as proud and bold as yourself.