For years I have been holding the Indians, the check rein has broken, and cousin Lemuel is at length at large; in fact he has been already collecting some of his annuities. Day after day I am visited by their Chiefs to know if they may strike while “the iron is hot.” My answer depends on Mr. Buchanan’s policy—if he does not mete out justice to us, the war cry will resound from the Rio Colorado to the head waters of the Missouri—from the Black hills to the Sierra Nevada—travel will be stopped across the continent—the deserts of Utah [will] become a battle ground for freedom. It—peace and our rights—or the knife and tomahawk—let Uncle Sam choose.