The perfumed flowers, the deer, the horse, the great eagle, are our brothers. The rocky summits, the humid meadows, the heat of the body of the colts and the men, all we are of the same family. By all this, when the Great White Head of Washington communicates to us that she thinks to buy our earth demands much of us. He says that he will reserve a place to us where we pruned to live pleasantly and that he will be our father and we will become their children. But, he is that possible? The Great Spirit loves your town and has left his red children. He sends machines to help to the white man in his work and constructs for him great towns. He by day makes more forts to your town in day.

Soon you will flood the country like rivers that are despean by precipices after an unexpected storm. My town is like a time in regression but without return. We are different races. Our children do not play together and our old ones count different histories. The Great Spirit is to you propitious and however, we are orphaned. We enjoyed joy when the feeling these forests. The crystalline water that runs by the rivers and streams is not only water, but also the blood of our ancestors.

If we sell our earth to you you must know that they are sagradas and that each fleeting reflection in the clear water of the lagoons narrates experiences and events of my town. The murmur of the water is the voice of my ancestors. The rivers are our brothers that satiate our thirst. They take our canoes and feed our children. If we sell to you our earth you must remember this and you teach to your children who the rivers are our brothers and that, therefore, there are to deal them with dulzura, as it treats a brother.