Algonquin Spring

by Rick Revelle

  Thinking back, it was not really a wasted trip, except for the woman’s coldblooded violence that caused me the short-term loss of ten warriors. I knew, though, that if I had a hundred warriors as heartless as her in battle I could defeat all my enemies with ease. The trip back to our village would be a lot easier now that I knew the Hochelagans and their allies the Stadaconas would join us during the ohiari:wa moon for our raid into the Land of the L’nu’k (The People, Mi’kmaq) We were in the late part of the ennisko:wa moon (much lateness March). Our journey home to my village of Ossernenon would take seven to ten days, depending on how fast we could keep our people going and, of course, fed.

  Keeping over two hundred people on the move and nourished was a major undertaking. I instructed Winpe to have three hunting parties out every morning, plus an advanced scouting group and a rear guard. If caught in an ambush, it would be devastating.

  We put our canoes into the Kaniatarowanenneh and made our way across. Evading floating chunks of ice, the only sound was the swish of the paddles. Everyone was silent, thinking about the journey before us. When we reached the other shore, the men cached the canoes for our return. The women hastily gutted the fish they had caught with hooks and lines on the trip over. The snarling and fighting of the dogs over the fish guts drowned out all the other sounds we made while organizing for the next leg of our passage.

  Now that it was warming, the captive women and maybe some of the adopted warriors would be tempted to escape. My men would have to be attentive to that possibility. The loss of the Susquehannock brothers was still bothering me. I had no reason to suspect them escaping so far from their homeland.

  Before we started down the warrior’s trail that would lead us to Ossernenon, I announced, “If any captives decide to escape, remember this: you will feel the wrath of my warrior’s clubs. Then you will be fed to the dogs. There will be no mercy. If our rear guards come upon anyone that cannot keep up with the group, they have orders to club them and leave them on the side of the trail for the wolves and bears. We will travel from morning’s first light to the disappearance of the sun in the evening. There must be silence on the trail at all times. Children must be kept quiet or we will silence them. The women will be responsible for keeping fires going and food ready after we make camp. The children are responsible for keeping the fires tended. All will share in what food we have. Weakness, sickness, and not keeping up will be your downfall.”

  Once the women had the fish readied to take with us, we started for home. For such a large amount of people, there was very little sound, except for the whisper of clothes rubbing against bodies and encroaching brush along the trail. With very little snow remaining in the woods, the warriors leading the column did not have to wear snowshoes to break trail for those who followed. This helped make the walking very easy and enabled the group to keep up a good pace. The forward scouting units’ responsibilities were to be on the lookout for enemies and to clear the trail of deadfalls.

  The path gave up the sound of the crunch of frozen mud, leaves, and melting snow. The forest that we were walking through blocked the view of the sun most of the time. Walking was easy. The ground below made for soft walking among the blanket of needles in the absence of snow cover. The tall pine forests kept out the sun’s rays, preventing undergrowth from surviving without the sun’s light. Other times, when walking through hardwood stands, the leaf cover was not as extensive and our shadows grew long from the sun penetrating the canopy. Now, because the sun was reaching the forest floor, there was undergrowth to negotiate. Other times we came upon spaces where fire had ravaged the area and walking became a little easier among the meadows that could now grow after being exposed to the unhindered sunlight. Always, though, there was a trail. Warriors had come through this area since our ‘Nihas (Fathers’) time to hunt and war.

  Shelters to protect us from the elements were not often necessary. There were areas on the trail where the pine forests’ canopy and needle-covered ground made bedding down for the night very comfortable. Sometimes there would be caves or large rock overhangs that sufficed for the evening. Occasionally we would come upon shelters that previous groups had made and, with some repair, would suffice for that night.

  The first night, though, we did raise shelters, and for that reason we made an early camp. The younger warriors prepared the shelters by cutting down small saplings. Depending on the clearing they had to work with, they erected two posts at each end, three if there was room to make a shelter wider than twelve feet. The third post would go in the middle to prevent sagging. Another sapling would run along the top of the post width. From there they attached the brace poles toward the back on a slant for the roof and support. They then attached more saplings across the back width from the slanted support posts. Here the young men would lay cedar boughs or elm bark to make a roof and cedar boughs on the ground for bedding. The saplings were tied together with vines. Depending on the size, these shelters could hold eight to twelve inhabitants. If it was not raining, many people would still sleep outside the shelter near the fire. The young warriors were very adept at erecting these covers and could get them done by the time the women had prepared the evening meal.

  None of our hunting groups were back yet; nevertheless, some of the younger boys had killed six kwa’yenha (rabbit) with their crude bows and arrows. Along with some frozen berries found along the trail, wild onions, and some corn that we had, the women prepared a stew. If the hunting parties came back empty-handed, we would have to slay one or two of the dogs for a more significant meal than this stew.

  Winpe approached me just at dusk. “Corn Dog, one of our hunting groups has not yet returned. They were the forward party that went out. The other two are back with an ohskennonton (deer) and a wahkwari’tahònsti (black bear), but no sign of the one in question.”

  I replied, “They probably were further than they thought from the main group and have decided to find a site for the night. I am sure our scouts will find them heading back to us in the morning. Since we now have some venison and bear, there is something more substantial than the rabbit stew.”

  The first day produced neither escape attempts nor any stragglers. As long as our hunting parties were successful, there would be no weakness from hunger. If we could keep up this pace, we would make Ossernenon in eight days.

  We woke up in the morning to a light drizzle, making everyone, dogs included, wet and miserable. The trees blocked the direct rain, but whenever someone brushed a branch, water would trickle down on the person behind. To stay away from a drenching, the group became more strung out as they were spacing themselves from the walker ahead of them.

  Toward midmorning, our scouting party came running toward us.

  “O:newwhste Erhar, we have found our hunting party,” said Tsihsterkeri (Owl). “They are off the main trail past that rock bluff ahead near a stream. All are dead!”

  Turning to one of the older men, Karònya Kayènkwire (Sky Arrow), I told him to keep the group on the trail.

  Turning to Winpe, I said, “Select a dozen warriors to follow with us!”

  Motioning to Owl and his scouts to lead the way, we silently followed. Upon reaching the small stream, we came upon an okwàho (wolf) pack of nine animals and a gaunt-looking boar bear ravishing the bodies. The wolves were easily scared off at the sight of us, but the bear was not going to give up this meal so readily. He rose up on his hind legs over the body that he was devouring. In that instant, several arrows pierced his heart. Spurting blood from the wounds and his mouth, he made one mighty bellow producing a torrent of blood, mucus, and spittle, swatted at the arrows, then dropped stone dead.

  Upon inspection of our men, we noticed that they all had suffered fatal wounds that would indicate they never saw their attackers. They had probably stopped to drink from the stream and had been attacked while quenching their thirst. One of the five had arrow wounds in his chest, and his face had been smashed in by a club, indicating he had turned to face the enemy. The hunters�
� three dogs had also come under the axe of the enemy. The wolves had made short work of their carcasses before moving on to the warriors. There were signs also that they had slain a deer to bring back to camp. The combatants had taken scalps, ears, and fingers from the bodies.

  Turning to the five scouts, I said, “Find their trail! We will follow as soon as we are done here.”

  They soundlessly disappeared into the forest.

  Turning to the rest, I said, “Try to bury our fallen warriors as deep as possible, and then pile rocks on their graves to keep the animals from the bodies. At the same time, butcher the bear and take as much meat as you can reasonably carry for food for the trail we are about to take. Kahònsti Sorak (Black Duck), I am going to ask you to select one man to help take the remainder of the meat back to the column and tell Sky Arrow to keep the people going. We will meet up in a couple of days.”

  Turning to Winpe, I said, “How many do you think were involved in this?”

  “By the look of the signs left behind it was a party of twenty to twenty-five, half women and children. Probably a Wàbanaki family unit that is moving toward a main spring camp. It was just bad luck for our hunting party that this group stumbled onto them and took advantage of the circumstance presented to them. They would not suspect that the hunting party was part of a larger group. They almost certainly think the hunters were this far north looking for game, killing and caching until they had enough to return.”

  “Winpe, we have to find and dispose of this band before they reach their destination. If that happens someone might figure out our hunters were not foraging for a village but for a large party on the move,” I warned.

  “Black Duck, when you get back tell the Algonquin woman she is responsible for all the women. If anything happens, her daughter will suffer for it,” I exclaimed. “There are to be no hunting parties to go out. They are to hunt by chance and must survive for the next two or three days on what they now have. Double the strength of the both the scouting parties and rear guard, and put out flankers. The Wàbanaki are on the move back to spring camps; we cannot afford any more accidental encounters.”

  It did not take long for the burials and the harvesting of the bear. Winpe and I led the remaining ten warriors at a trot to catch up to our scouts. This trail had less wear than the one we had been travelling on. Our scouts were blazing as they travelled, setting an easy trail to follow.

  Just after the noon sun, two of them met us on the trail. Stopping for a moment, the men ate the raw bear meat, some corn, and drank from their water gourds.

  “Corn Dog, we have found them. They are close ahead by a small waterfall, filling their water gourds and skins. The women have a small fire going and they are roasting the deer that they took from our hunters. There is only one guard at the top of the waterfall where the trail goes, plus one other on the back trail. No one is at all vigilant. The two guards are smoking and watching the camp. We counted twelve women, seven children, and nine warriors. They are too at ease to think there is anyone on their back trail. There are a few dogs so we must strike quickly before they give the alarm.”

  “Winpe,” I said, “you will take the three scouts that are up ahead, with three other warriors, and eliminate the scout above the falls. Block off any retreat. Capture any women and children and kill the warriors. I’ll take the remaining nine and attack from the front.”

  Swiftly, I led the men to where the other three scouts were. Winpe’s warriors then melted into the shadows of the forest. When we arrived near the encampment, we could see the back of the rear guard with smoke rising in wisps above his head. I motioned to one of my warriors who had stopped a fair distance behind us. He rattled two deer horns together, making it sound like two bucks were jousting in the near forest. The guard turned his head, smiled, and stood up. He entered the forest, stringing his bow, hoping for a shot at one of the two preoccupied bucks that he thought he was hearing. As soon as he entered the shadows of the forest, one of my men drove his spear into the nape of his neck, paralyzing him, and as the man dropped to his knees the warrior slit his throat, scalped him, and cut off his head.

  Leaving the dead man’s body on the forest floor in a pool of blood for forest denizens to devour, we silently continued. Looking across to the top of the falls, we noticed the other guard had also disappeared. Now was the time to strike.

  Tossing the head of the slain Wàbanaki down the hill into the campsite of the enemy, we emitted a blood-curdling war cry and charged into the encampment. The inhabitants looked up in stunned silence; we were upon them before they realized the danger that was about to beset their camp. I watched as one young warrior grabbed his wife and ran toward the trail above. He reached the top, where he received a smash to the face from a war club. Bone and blood flew into the air, and he tumbled backward down the hill, flipping and landing face first in the stream, bloodying the water around him. His young wife was bound to a tree. The other six warriors and some women stood their ground. I was the first to reach the camp and was met by a warrior with half of his head shaved. He had a stone axe in his hand and tried to swing it at me as he rose. With my war club in one hand and my knife in the other I swung the club as hard as I could, catching the man on his chin. I could hear his jaw break as he let out a scream of pain. The blow staggered him and he fell to one knee, but rising quickly, he staggered toward me, spitting blood on the ground. His eyes glazed as I drove my knife into his heart. He died in that instant, covering me with his blood. Cutting his heart out to eat, I now gained his strength.

  Covered with blood, I looked around. The water was blood-red and the rocks had turned the colour of the onekwenhtara tsi’tenha (red bird) of the forest. The battle was over in a very short time. We captured only one warrior. We would take him back to our main camp for the gauntlet and the stake. He should supply us with future pleasure. Two women had died defending their men and families. The other ten and the children would become Kanien’kehá:ka, adopted by families who previously had suffered the loss of family members. Our attack was sudden and quick, but we did suffer a loss. One of our warriors had taken an arrow in the throat from a quick-reacting Wàbanaki. Two others had suffered wounds that we treated with our healing herbs.

  We buried our fallen warrior. The bodies of the enemy were stripped, mutilated, skinned, and then threw into the fires. Tonight we would stay and rest here. Sunrise would find us on the trail to rejoin our people. With all the captives I had to present to the village residents, surely this should prove to the Clan Mothers that I was a strong war chief, and they would release the warriors to me!

  11

  BREAKING WINTER CAMP

  Mahingan

  After the kiss from Àwadòsiwag, Wàbek had thrown his first toss off the chute. Now, with all his might he had tossed his final stick. All the contestants were yelling, with Anokì’s team frantically cheering for the projectile to stay on course. Mitigomij’s players shouted encouragement for the staff to stop or fly off the slide. The staff was nearing the spot where Àwadòsiwag’s stick had stopped, when it hit a crack in the channel and flew end-for-end away from the game area. The men stood in mute silence, the women and Susquehannock boys starting laughing. All the commotion caused the camp dogs to bark and growl. Soon everyone was laughing and slapping each other on the back. The men had cook and collect firewood for the next two days. It was all in fun and a welcome relief from the rigours that the winter had brought us.

  The early spring sun was starting to melt the snow, and in a week or two the ice would start to leave the Kitcisìpi. Once that began, our people would leave for the summer hunting grounds and join up with the other families that had wintered in their areas.

  As soon as we were all together, the Family Leaders decided on our plan of action against Corn Dog. My thinking was that he would surely attack us once he finished raiding and gathering his allies from the Hochelagans and Stadaconas. His band of warriors would cut us off from our eastern allies, in addition to attacking and weaken
ing them. Could I count again on the Nipissing and Ouendat Nations to aid us? Our Nation would survive or die with the events that could befall us in the coming summer and fall.

  Our people should not confront this threat blindly. We had to find out where Corn Dog was. Our allies who lived along the Magotogoek Sìbì (the Path that Walks, present-day St. Lawrence River) would not be able to help us with this problem. We would have to find where he was and follow his movements. To do this I had to split up our small family unit and undertake a very dangerous mission. My Nation’s survival would depend on locating Corn Dog and planning on how to handle his advancement against us. Stealth and bravery would rule the moment.

  “Mitigomij, call the people together. It is essential we talk to them about the gathering threat that the Haudenosaunee are trying to bring down on our heads.”

  After the meeting, we all decided that we would go to Asinabka (place of glare rock, now present-day Chaudière Falls). There we would spear name (sturgeon) and ogà (walleye) during their spring run. With our supply of pimizì (eel) completely eaten during the winter, we desperately needed the nourishment that this fish would provide.

  That day we took the wìgwàs-chìmàn (birch bark canoes) out from their winter storage to prepare for the journey back down the river to the Kitcisìpi Sìbì and then to our summer camp.

  We were now twenty-one people with the addition of the three Susquehannock boys and the loss of Kekek. We had seven canoes to carry all our possessions, dogs, and ourselves. There would be at least two capable paddlers in each boat. Everyone had to contribute on the water and on the onigam (portage), even Anokì.

  Nigig was helping me uncover one of the canoes when he said, “Mahingan, I want to tell you something my mother, Àbita, saw while collecting firewood.”