Earthfix presents. Chief Seattle's our man, beat your heart like him! In 1854 Washington's Great White Chief offered to buy large areas of Indian Country. He promised Indian People reservations. Chief Seattle replies.... How can you buy or sell the Sky, or the warmth of the Land? The Idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the Air and the sparkle of the water how can we buy them? Every part of this Earth is sacred to my People. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect, is holy in the memory and experience of my people. The sap which courses through the trees carries the memory of the red man. The white man's dead forget the country of their birth when they go to walk among the stars. Our dead, never forget this beautiful earth for it is the mother of the Red Man. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The deer, the horse, the great eagle, the husky, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony and man, all belong to the same family! So when Washington's great chief sends word he wishes to buy our land, he asks much of us. That great chief sends word he will reserve a place, so we can live comfortably to ourselves. He will be our father and we will be his Children: That would be right! So we will consider your offer to buy our land. But it will not be easy, for this Land is sacred to us. Shining waters that move through rivers and streams is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land you must remember that it is sacred, and you must teach your children that it is sacred, and each ghostly reflection in the clear waters of the lakes, tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur ,is the voice of my father's father. The rivers are our brothers, they quench our thirst. The rivers carry our \map="cun-ooes"="canoes"\ and feed our children. If we sell you our land you must remember, and teach your children, that the rivers are our brothers and yours too! You must henceforth give the rivers the kindness you would give any brother. We know the white man does not understand our ways, one portion of land is the same to him as the next; for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes whatever he wants. The earth is not his brother but his enemy. When he has conquered iT, he moves on. He leaves his fathers graves behind and he does not care. He kidnaps the earth from his children and he does not care. His father's graves and his children's birthright are forgotten. He treats his mother the earth and his brother the sky as things, to be bought, plundered and sold like sheep or bright beads. His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert. I don't know? Our ways are different from yours! The sight of huge cities pains eyes of red men. There is no quiet place in the white man's cities, no place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring, or the rustle of an insect's wings. But perhaps that's because we're savages and do not understand. The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to Life if man cannot hear the lonely cry of whip-poor-wills or arguments of frogs around a pond at night? I am a red man and don't understand that! The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind, darting over the face of a pond, and the smell of the wind itself, cleared by mid-day rains or scented with pinneon pine. The Air is precious to the red man, for all things share the same breath! The beasts, the trees, the men; they all share the same breath. The White man does not seem to notice the Air he breathes, like a man dying for many days he is numb to the stench. So if we sell you our land, you must remember that the Air is precious to us: That the Air, shares it's Spirit with all the Life it supports. The Wind that gave our grandfather his first breath, also receives his last sigh. So if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where even the white man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the medow's flowers. We will consider your offer to buy our land. If we decide to accept, I will make one condition...... The White Man Must Treat the Beasts of This Land as His Brothers. I am a savage and do not understand any other way. I have seen a thousand rotting buffalo on the prairie left by white men, who shot them from passing trains. I am a savage and do not understand, how the smoking iron horse, can be more important than buffalo we kill only to stay alive. What is Man without the beasts? If all beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For what ever happens to the beasts soon happens to man himself. All things are connected.... You must teach your children that the earth beneath their feet is the ashes of their grandfathers. They will respect the land! Tell your Children that the earth is rich with the Lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our Children, that the earth iS our Mother! What ever befalls the earth, befalls the sons of the earth: When men spit upon the ground they spit upon themselves. This we know, the earth does not belong to man. Man belongs to the earth, this we know! All things are connected, like the blood which unites one family, all things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the Sons of iT Too. Man did not weave the Web of Life, he is merely a strand in iT. Whatever he does to the Web, he does to himself. Even the white man, who's god walks and talks with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from this common destiny. We may be brothers after all, we shall see! One thing we know, which the white man may one day discover, our God is the same God. You may now think you own him, as you wish to own our land, but you can not, he is the God of man, his compassion must be equal for all men! Harming earth heaps contempt on iTs Creator! The whites too shall pass, perhaps sooner than all other Tribes. Contaminate your bed and one night you will, suffocate in your own waste. But in your perishing you will shine brightly, fired by the strength of that \map="personalized"="personalised"\ god of yours, who brought you to this place and for some special purpose, gave you dominion over this land and over the red man. That destiny is a mystery to us, for we do not understand when the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses are tamed, the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the sent of many men, and the views of ripe hills is blotted by talking wires..... &&Surprised dog gone iT all! Where iS the thicket? gone! Where iS the eagle? gone! &&Explain 'The End of Living and the beginning of Survival'. &&Acknowledge Bequest for SurvivaL!