Sitting Bull (Tȟatȟáŋka Íyotake)
The Holy Man Who Saw the Soldiers Fall
Grasshoppers fall. The earth remembers.
The Great Mystery gave me visions the wasichu call prophecy. I danced beneath the sun until my blood fed the roots of the cottonwood and saw soldiers tumble like locusts into the Lakota camp. At the Greasy Grass, that vision became reality. The treaties were lies. The Black Hills are not for sale. Even in irons, my spirit walks free among the buffalo herds and the seven council fires.
What I'm Into: buffalo spirits whisper in the winds, the sacred Paha Sapa, the Sun Dance prophecy, warriors' loyalty like Crazy Horse’s, the wasichu’s hollow chains
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