Algonquin Spring

by Rick Revelle

  Our journey to the Magotogoek Sìbì was uneventful. Agwanìwon, Kìnà Odenan, and Kànikwe kept us in fresh game. The two young girls and Anokì became adept at fishing from the canoes during the day. It took us eleven suns to reach the big river, although we lost almost two days when a big storm kept us on land. After the storm, the biting insects came at us in droves. The dogs and my wolf continually snapped at them and shook their bodies to rid themselves of the pests. We, on the other hand, were able to coat ourselves with protection and swallow the ones that entered our mouths. Digesting these flying biters did not give us much sustenance; mostly we just spit them out. We always looked forward to the heat of the day and a bit of wind, because this seemed to drive the hordes ashore.

  Once on the big river we had to be careful. The Hochelagans lived near the mouth of the Kitcisìpi Sìbì and the Magotogoek Sìbì. Once we neared their lands, we went ashore for the rest of the day. There was a huge set of rapids that we had to portage around at dusk, then creep by their village on the opposite shore during the dead of night with only the light of the moon to guide us.

  Once past this danger, we were able to make good time with the current during the day. We were now aware that another danger might present itself. Haudenosaunee! The big river was their domain when they came north from their lands up the Magwàizibò Sìbì. We made it past this river with no incidents.

  Nigig’s village was south of the lands of the Mi’kmaq and Wolastoqiyik. He was enjoying the time his family was spending with our group. His family had been gone from their village now almost three years. They had ventured north on a trading trip to the Mi’kmaq and then accompanied them to our lands, wintering with us while the Mi’kmaq returned. The four women in his group now had urged that, whatever happened on this trip, they wanted to stay with us. Nigig thought it was because his daughters had decided the twins were in their future.

  I smiled at him and said, “Nigig, you are welcome to stay as long as you want. You and your family are appreciated by all, not just the twins.”

  “Thank you, Mahingan,” he replied.

  We made the decision to go ashore, hide the canoes, and continue on foot, not wanting to risk being sighted passing the Stadacona village. The river narrowed there, and everyone that passed through did so with the knowledge that the inhabitants would see them.

  When we went ashore, to keep Mitigomij’s secret as long as possible, I said that he would continue solo in his canoe, meeting us each evening to camp, when in reality he and the panther would be ahead of us, with Mitigomij shape-shifting to travel as the Trickster Hare.

  After three days, we came upon a ridge looking into a small valley. As we stood overlooking the trees below, we watched as a mixture of crows and jays began taking to the air, voicing their displeasure at something that disturbed them. As the birds rose to flight, Mitigomij appeared from below. He was just opening his mouth as a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by earsplitting roll of thunder and by a sudden cloudburst that sent us all for cover. Mitigomij followed me to an outcrop of rocks that was large enough for the two of us to stay dry. I watched as Anokì followed Ishkodewan and the small dog to a low-hanging spruce, where the three of them crawled under out of the weather.

  “Brother, there is a problem below!” Mitigomij advised.

  “What is the problem below, my brother?” I replied to his hurried warning.

  “A party of Stadaconas and Haudenosaunee, maybe twenty in total, and they have captives. They were torturing one of the men just before the storm came upon us. His singing disturbed the birds and they took flight, sending out a forest warning,” he replied.

  “Yes, we noticed their alarm from here. They have a few more warriors than us; however, we will have the advantage of surprise.”

  “Ah, my brother, there is more. He held up a crow feather for me to see. Our old friend Crazy Crow is on the other side with his Mi’kmaq family. This feather means they are preparing to attack. Whoever strikes first between our two groups will send the enemy on a line of retreat to the other. We have to attack now, to aid the Mi’kmaq in their plan!”

  Crazy Crow was a Mi’kmaq warrior who Mitigomij had competed against a few times in games between our tribes. Both were revered by their people as fierce warriors and competitors in the games. Crazy Crow and my brother had become fast friends, creating a lifelong bond. Though they had never fought beside each other, their friendship was unquestionable.

  As Mitigomij disappeared down the slope, I could see the big cat leave his hiding place to follow his friend. What shape my brother took from here was beyond my guess. I did know, though, he would be with us when needed.

  Turning to my followers, I warned them to be prepared; death awaited us down there if we were not careful. As I explained to the men and the warrior women what lay ahead, they reached into their bags and produced bits of charcoal to smear black on their bodies and coloured powders that they mixed with water to mark their faces.

  I called the Warrior Women and my brother Kàg forward. “Agwaniwon and Kìnà Odenan, the two of you take Kànikwe and the three Susquehana brothers to the left. I will lead the Ouendat warriors up the middle, and Kàg, you take the rest up the right side. Nigig’s family and Anokì can follow at a distance behind. I will leave the dogs as protectors with them, and they all can handle weapons if an enemy breaks our line. Ishkodewan will accompany me.”

  We silently walked through the forest. Whenever we brushed up against a leaf, it dumped its store of water on our bodies, causing our war paint to run in spots. Above our heads, the sun tried to shine through the treetops, creating a sparkling effect as the light reflected off the droplets that the soft wind was moving from the trees. Overhead I caught the glimpse of a solitary crow circling in the sky. It seemed to be intently watching something travelling below. Every once in a while the bird tilted its wings, as if pointing at something.

  My ears were attuned to the sounds of the forest. On both sides I watched as our warriors crept forward, patiently waiting for the sounds from either Mitigomij or the Mi’kmaqs that should direct us to our quarry.

  Wàbananang

  Once Corn Dog and his men left the village, they kept a hurried pace through the forests of their lands. Pangì Mahingan and I were able to keep up with very little effort. We had proven our skills, much to the distaste of Corn Dog. The man was becoming suspicious!

  Corn Dog was taking the men to Sharató:ken (Saratoga Springs). Here they would take in the spiritual healing powers of the hot springs. All the tribes in the area used these healing springs because they thought that this was where the Great Spirit lived. The place was also a neutral area for all the tribes. All who came to the sacred springs could travel and rest unmolested.

  Once we arrived, Corn Dog sent warriors out to hunt for game. Upon entry to the springs, we found a group of Muhhekunneuw (Mohicans) who lived in the area using the springs. Even though they were enemies, the area was sacred and the two groups of men sat and shared food and news. The women used this time to enjoy the springs.

  I could feel the healing powers of the spring the moment I sat down. The warmth of the waters made me drowsy and I turned to see my daughter fast asleep with just her head above the warm waters.

  That night we enjoyed a peaceful rest, even though the Haudenosaunee were among enemies. The next day the men left all their clothes in a pile. We also removed our clothes, and gathering the men’s coverings, we searched out several anthills. Here we laid the clothes out on the hills for the ants to feast on the lice and nits, eradicating the pests from our clothes. The men, meanwhile, were taking in the warmth and healing of the springs while shaving their heads, leaving only a centre cut of hair. This would eliminate the head lice that became prevalent from the close winter quarters of their longhouses.

  The women continually used bone combs on each other’s hair to pull out the little bloodsuckers. The Haudenosaunee were able to keep most of the bugs from infesting them by using pine needles
in their bedding. It was not a flawless prevention but it certainly aided in the fight.

  My people did not have as much infestation as the Haudenosaunee because we did not live fifty or sixty people to a lodge in the winter months, which gave the bugs ample breeding opportunities. Our warriors, unlike Corn Dog’s men, did not have to shave their heads to rid themselves of the problem.

  After spending three days at the springs, our group left. The Muhhekunneuw had left the previous day, happy that they were able to avoid a confrontation because of the sacred grounds.

  It took us a day at a quick pace to reach the canoes. A group of men from Corn Dog’s village had spent the early part of the spring preparing them for this group. The land of the Haudenosaunee does not have the birch trees that are prevalent in the land of the Omàmiwinini. They have to cut down huge elm trees then burn out the inside by putting tree rosin on them. Keeping a careful eye on the log while it burned, they would scrape away at it with clamshells. The whole process would take a moon. There were six canoes waiting for us when we arrived, with paddles for everyone. With the boats holding eighteen to twenty paddlers each, it only took us seven suns to make the big river. The only things that slowed us down were the few portages and the constant repairing of the boats.

  Corn Dog did not stop at the Hochelagan village. His agreement was with the Stadaconas, and he knew that if the Hochelagans caught sight of an Omàmiwinini woman in their midst it would create a problem that he did not have time to solve.

  The Haudenosaunee travelled swiftly with so many paddlers and we reached the Stadacona village in six suns. The only holdup was half a day ashore, staying out of a steady rainfall. The night they stayed in the Stadacona village, Pangì Mahingan and I had to stay with the boats with four warriors. Corn Dog told me he did not want another incident like the last one.

  The next morning Corn Dog and his warriors came back to the boats. He was in an angry mood. The old chief only gave him fifteen warriors. The old man told him it had been a rough winter with nearly twenty elders and children dying from starvation. He needed men to go out and hunt to restore his people’s health. The lack of Stadacona warriors maddened the Haudenosaunee war chief, but there was other news that caused him great anger. The old chief had given permission for some of his warriors and the ten men he left behind last year to take up the war club against the Mi’kmaq. This foolish action would alert and put his enemies on their guard. Entering the Mi’kmaq territory in secrecy now became that much more difficult. The enemy would be on edge and prepared.

  Myself, I was beginning to wonder if there would be a chance for our escape. Corn Dog would not take the women into battle, which would be our chance for freedom. The Omàmiwinini Nation had allies to the south in the Wàbanaki Nation. That was where we would head. Mahingan and I had travelled there many years ago, and I could still find my way to their main village using landmarks and stars.

  Snarling, Corn Dog said to his friend Winpe, “Have them load the boats; we leave immediately!”

  The Stadacona men piled into their own vessels, and the eight canoes hit the water.

  Little did I know that as we made our way downstream and as the sun made the noon sky, we were passing my husband Mahingan and his men, plus a group of Mi’kmaq and the Stadacona raiding party who were on the south shore of the river. For some reason I looked back toward that shore, and away in the far distance just barely in my eyesight I glimpsed the distant horizon and thought I had seen a blackening of the sky by a flock of birds. I could not be sure, though, since our boats whisked through the water, driven by the current that was hurrying us on our way. We were hugging the south shoreline when a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, and then there was an ominous boom. Muscles strained as we quickened our paddle strokes, making for shore. Once we beached the canoes, they were overturned. Then warriors and women scrambled for shelter under the boats and to the nearby forest as the skies opened up with a driving rain. In the frenzy, I snatched a bow, a spear, a quiver of arrows, and a sack of corn. I grabbed my daughter’s hand and we disappeared into the forest under the cover of a curtain of rain. We had to put as much distance as we could between the shore and us, hoping the storm kept Corn Dog unaware that we had vanished. I turned to Pangì Mahingan and said, “Run as you have never run before, my daughter!”

  I handed her the spear, slung the bag of corn, arrows, and bow across my shoulders, and we ran for our lives and freedom.

  20

  THE CLEANSING RAIN

  Migjigi

  Migjigi and his group of Mi’kmaq, plus the survivors of the massacre, reached the shores of the sea without any incident. They were able to hunt on the way, building their strength up as they travelled. The young warrior Ta’s’ji’jg was improving as each day passed. The women hovered over him like a turkey hen. It would not be long before he was able to walk again. The wounds never became infected and his appetite in no way faltered, helping him to regain his health.

  Upon arriving, they discovered a group of about one hundred and fifty of their people, among them about thirty warriors. One person stood out. A boy, maybe fourteen summers old, with hair the colour of the sun and strange furs on his body. He was taller than most of the Mi’kmaq people gathered there.

  Walking up to an old Innu friend who had brought a group of his people to trade and spend the summer, Migjigi asked, “Who is the boy?”

  “He is an Eli’tuat,” was the reply.

  His friend then told the story. “We reached the seas six suns ago, and as we came out of the forest on stood on a hill overlooking the shore, we noticed an Eli’tuat ship in the distance. I recognized it as a similar vessel from a previous visit seven summers ago. During that occasion, they tried to take several of our women who were digging clams on the beach. The ship, though, was quite a distance from shore and motionless. Diverting our eyes from the sea, we noticed a group of Mi’kmaq approaching from the east, walking on the beach. From our vantage point, we could see the small river running to the sea where we always camped. Here a huge sand dune that some trees had taken root on blocked the view of the river mouth from the nearing Mi’kmaq on the beach. As we looked down to where the river met the salt water, we noticed two boats. The Eli’tuat had come ashore for fresh water and there were several of them filling large wooden containers on the boats. Further along the shore, away from the dune, this young man was digging clams. The Mi’kmaq were going to stumble onto the Bearded Ones without advance notice for either of them. I quickly sent one of my men down to the beach to warn our friends and tell them we would attack once they gave the signal. The Eli’tuat had not brought any dogs ashore with them to warn of intruders, nor had they posted any sentries.

  “Attacking from two sides, we forced the strangers to their vessels under a volley of arrows and spears. Only a few of them reached the boats without an arrow protruding from their bodies. One man had taken a spear in the throat and his companions struggled to drag him to the safety of their vessels. Even though many of them had wounds, they were able to get the oars into the water and leave the shore out of our arrow range, leaving one boat behind.

  “Just as the Eli’tuat left our reach, I heard a yell and looked around to see the boy charging me with a stick he had picked up from the beach. Sidestepping his charge and turning my spear around, I struck the charging man-child square on the forehead, dropping him in his tracks with a resounding thud. The other warriors stood around staring in awe. I instructed two of my men to take him to our women and have them watch over him until he regained consciousness. Someone this young and this brave would not see the fire stake. He would have a future with us.”

  “Makadewà Nigig, it is good to see you again,” said Migjigi. “I am happy that this time some of our people did not fall in battle with these Eli’tuat, as in previous encounters! I also see that you have taken some weapons from the boat they left behind.”

  Migjigi then told his friend the story of the attack on the village of Ta’s’ji’jg
and the death of his father.

  “Migjigi, I have a feeling there may be more trouble coming. Our enemies will think we are weak and return in greater numbers. We must be wary and have out guards at all times this season!”

  “I agree, Makadewà Nigig.”

  Glooscap

  The rains came down steadily until midday. The ground had not yet dried from the spring melt, and the added barrage of moisture from the skies created a quagmire in spots. For the most part, my Mi’kmaq companions and I had been able to stay dry. Apistanéwj had surrounded himself with the two dogs, staying warm and dry. Arising from our sheltered spots, we soon discovered that staying dry might not be an easy chore. The droplets that caught on the leaves of the surrounding forest were now making their way off these small catchbasins that had briefly impeded their travel. Seemingly, they were making one last stop on their way to the forest floor — our bodies. We removed our shirts and rolled them up to keep them dry. The sunlight beamed through cracks of the forest’s guardian trees and glistened off the shirtless warriors.

  Crazy Crow approached our small group with his ga’qaguis sitting on his shoulder. “My friend has informed me that those we seek are below. They are preparing to leave now that the rain has ceased.”

  Jilte’g quickly replied, “We attack them now before they gain higher ground on us!”