Geronimo

I have fought for my land. I have fought for my family. I have fought for my life.

I was born on the prairies where the wind blew free and there was nothing to break the light of the sun. I was born where there were no enclosures.

When a child, my mother taught me the legends of our people; taught me of the sun and sky, the moon and stars, the clouds and storms.

We are vanishing from the earth, yet I cannot think we are useless or else Usen would not have created us.

The soldiers never explained to the government when an Indian was wronged, but reported the misdeeds of the Indians.

I was warmed by the sun, rocked by the winds, and sheltered by the trees as other Indian babes.

I cannot think that we are useless or God would not have created us.

The sun, the darkness, the winds are all listening to what we have to say.

There is one God looking down on us all. We are all the children of one God.

I was no chief and never had been, but because I had been more deeply wronged than others, this honor was conferred upon me.

Often when I was alone in the mountains, I drank from the springs and I knew the animals and they knew me.

I should never have surrendered. I should have fought until I was the last man alive.

I have killed many Mexicans; I do not know how many, for frequently I did not count them. Some of them were not worth counting.

We never prayed against any person, but if we had aught against any individual we ourselves took vengeance. We were taught that Usen does not care for the petty quarrels of men.

When all were counted, I found that my aged mother, my young wife, and my three small children were among the slain.

Kinsmen, you have heard what the Mexicans have recently done without cause. You are my relatives—uncles, cousins, brothers. We are men the same as the Mexicans are—we can do to them what they have done to us. Let us go forward and trail them. I will lead you to their city. We will attack them in their homes. I will fight in the front of the battle. I only ask you to follow me to avenge this wrong done by these Mexicans.

If I am killed no one need mourn for me. My people have all been killed in that country, and I, too, will die if need be.

Still covered with the blood of my enemies, still holding my conquering weapon, still hot with the joy of battle, victory, and vengeance, I was surrounded by the Apache braves and made war chief of all the Apaches. Then I gave orders for scalping the slain.

I could not call back my loved ones, I could not bring back the dead Apaches, but I could rejoice in this revenge. The Apaches had avenged the massacre of 'Kas-ki-yeh.'

I have suffered much from such unjust orders as those of General Crook. Such acts have caused much distress to my people. I think that General Crook's death was sent by the Almighty as a punishment for the many evil deeds he committed.