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My blood is mixed |
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My mother was ungumpai picani, my father was habsoluca |
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This mixture was not respected; as a small boy I was often left to myself |
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So I spent many months stalking the Elk people, to prove i would soon become a good hunter |
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One day finally, my Elk relatives took pity on me, and a young Elk gave his life to me |
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With only my knife, I took his life |
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As I was preparing to cut the meat white men came upon me, they were English soldiers |
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I cut one with my knife but they hit me on the head, with a rifle |
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All went black; my spirit seemed to leave me |
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I was then taken east, in a cage |
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I was taken to Toronto, then Philadelphia, and then to New York; and each time I arrived in another city, somehow the white man had moved all thier people there ahead of me |
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Each new city contained the same white people as the last, and I could not understand how a whole city of people could be moved so quickly |
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Eventually, I was taken on a ship across the great sea, over to England, and I was paraded before them like a captured animal, an exhibit |
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So I mimicked them, imitating their ways, hoping they might lose interest in this young savage, but their interest only grew |
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I was copying them so they placed me into the white mans school |
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It was there that I discovered, in a book, the words that William Blake had written |
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They were powerful words and they spoke to me |
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So I made careful plans and eventually I escaped |
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Once again I crossed the great ocean |
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I saw many sad things as I made my way back to the lands of my people |
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Once they realized who I was, the stories of my adventures angered them |
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They called me a liar |
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Xebachae-he who talks loud saying nothing |
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Ridiculed by my own people, and I was left to wander the earth alone |
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I am Nobody. |