They sat in a circle, cross legged
Drumming, rattling, singing,
It is a circle of medicine, family
Our clan and all our relations:
The winged, four legged, many legged,
The finned, grandfather rocks,
The leafy beings, and the Mother

A blazing fire and glowing faces
Womp womp womp da da womp
Boom da da boom da da boom
Children, women, men
The pipe, the smoke

She stands with arms and head raised
She speaks to her clan:
“Who are these savages?”
They come with trinkets
For our hunting grounds
For our living quarters
For our water and trails,
Where our food comes from.

We are here to decide
They call us savages
We do not know what they mean
This name hurts us
We are not savages
Who are these that come upon us?
What do we do
Let us pass a talking stick
Each have your say
First the elders, then the rest
We are the Secatogues
I am Straight Walker
What do we do with those
Who call us savages?
WE will walk straight
I will lead you.

Thus speaks an elder
We are peaceful
Let us make peace with them

Thus speaks a second elder
We must fight them
Drive them away

A third elder stands:
We must move away
To a place where they
Cannot cause us harm

Who are those savages?
Primitives who know nothing of God
Jesus wants to teach savages
To tame them, save them
To make them like us.

Who are these savages?
Who wear deer skin hides
Who utter grunts and words we don’t understand
Who will trade their land for trinkets
They who don’t understand land ownership
Who dig for roots, pick berries and nuts

Who are these savages?
We must push them away, kill them
Give them disease, weaken them
Take their children away and teach them our ways
Dress them in our clothing
Give them our religion, our speech

Who are these savages?
That threaten our lifestyle
Who dance and hoop and smoke
Who are these people?
They must step aside
To make room for us
Look at their money, pieces of shell
They are as savage as the wolf
They bang stone to make arrow points

We will sign their treaty
They will have our land
We will sign their treaty
We will hold them to their promises

Here are blankets
Here is whisky
Here are metal tools
To replace your stones
We will live together
You must make room for us.

At the Pow Wow
They are not savages
They dress with feathers and bright cloth
They dance to the drums
They maintain their nation
A small place left from long ago.