The sun has set before these warrior eyes for the last time.
My brothers have sprinkled the wound and scars of my body in water of blessing. I have felt the last rain.
My strong Tonka-Wehkon I have set free to run the prairies for all of her days, and no man will ever ride her. The war paint is still shining on my skin, and when the night creeps into my bones and I go, I will go like a spring wind in the mountains. I am a great one.
I will pass over all forest and water to the hunting ground in the great sky. Like the falcon of the Greatest Spirit my voice of victory will come to my people. And they will know that I am free and good, hunting with my spear, and not cry tears of sorrow. I am at the end of the warpath. I will not return to them.
Great Spirits must haunt great places... I will not return.