Introduction: the 19th century, the United States to expand the territory reached North America northwest corner of the local home to many Indian tribes. The U.S. government is trying to use $ 150,000 to buy located in today's Washington State Bhuj fjord (Puget Sound of Washington), two million acres of land. At that time, the the the Sok the melon michigamme family (Suquamish) chief of Seattle (Chief Seattle, or Seathl) A one moving with the mean far-reaching statement, described man and land, all things close relationship. This statement occurred about 1851. This today is known to be very important in environmental conservation in a statement.
of Washington)的二百萬英畝土地。當時，索瓜米希族(Suquamish)的酋長西雅圖(Chief Seattle, or
How can you
buy or sell the sky, 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 you buy them?
Every part of the Earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine
needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clear and
humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people. The
sap which courses through the trees carries the memory of 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, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the
meadows, the body heat of the pony, and the man, all belong to the same
So, when the Great Chief in Washington sends word that he
wishes to buy our land, he asks much of us. The Great White Chief sends
word he will reserve us a place so that we can live comfortably to
ourselves. He will be our father and we will be his children.
So we will consider your offer to buy land. But it will not be easy.
For this land is sacred to us. This shining water that moves in streams
and rivers is not just water but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell
you land, you must remember that it is sacred, and you must teach your
children that it is sacred and that each ghostly reflection in the clear
water of the lakes tells of events in the life of my people. The waters
murmur is the voice of my father's father.
The rivers of our brothers
they quench our thirst. The rivers carry our canoes and feed our
children. If we sell you our land, you must remember to teach your
children that the rivers are our brothers, and yours, and you must
henceforth give the rivers the kindness that you would give my brother.
We know that 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 from the land whatever he needs. The Earth is not
his brother, but his enemy and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He
leaves his father's graves behind, and he does not care. He kidnaps the
Earth from his children, and he does not care. His father's grave, and
his children's birthright are forgotten. He treats his mother, the
Earth, and his brother, the same, as things to be bought, plundered,
sold like sheep or bright beads. His appetite will devour the Earth and
leave behind only a desert.
I do not know. Our ways are different from yours ways. The sight of
your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps it is because the
red man is a savage and does not understand. 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 it is because I
am a savage and do not understand. The clatter only seems to insult the
ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of a
whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around a pond at night. I am
a red man and do not understand. The Indian prefers the soft sound of
the wind darting over the face of the pond, and the smell of the wind
itself, cleansed by a midday rain, or scented with the pinon pine.