". . . I have never called a White Man a dog, but today, I do pronounce them to be a set of black-hearted dogs . . . I have  been in many battles, and often wounded, but the
wounds of my enemies I exalt in . . . I do not fear Death, my friends. You know it, but to die with my face rotten, that even wolves will shrink with horror at seeing me . . . Listen well what I have to say, as it will be the last time you will hear me. Think of your wives, children, brothers, sisters, friends, and in fact all that you hold dear—all are dead, or dying, with their faces all rotten, caused by those dogs—the whites. Think of all that, my friends, and
rise all together and not leave one of them alive."
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