by Rick Revelle
“Oh, but there is more my friend,” he replied. “The crow tells me that there are warriors on the far ridge. He whispered to me that they were Omàmiwinini and some Ouendat that he could see. Allies to our Nation! There is a powerful friend with them. He is the warrior Mitigomij, a friend from long ago. I will send my bird to the air again with a crow feather in his mouth. Mitigomij will know its meaning and know I am close by. This day will be ours!”
Nodding at my small friend and his two dogs, I grabbed the Eli’tuat axe and shield. We followed our friends into battle.
Blood Eye and his warriors crept from the sparse shelter they had sought during the sudden and prolonged cloudburst. He hastened his men to break camp, and just as they were gathering their weapons, he heard a crow. Looking up, he saw a huge man swinging a weapon he had never seen in his lifetime. The last thing he remembered was feeling the weight of the weapon on his neck, the crunch of his spine, and blackness.
Glooscap
I swung the big axe with all my might at the man in front of me as he bent over picking up a spear. For a moment our eyes met, him motionless and struck in a pose of horror, myself with my arms straight up in the air, starting the descent of the axe. The weight and momentum of the weapon carried me forward as the sharpened blade cleanly severed the man’s head, causing both the warrior’s body and skull to drop at my feet simultaneously with a resounding thump.
Turning, I caught a glimpse of Crazy Crow swinging the staff he carried. The jutting animal fangs that he had on the weapon had become red from the blood of his victims. As I prepared myself to continue, I watched as he took a bone-crunching swing at a Haudenosaunee combatant, the fangs of the weapon entering and embedding in the man’s upper torso. Not wasting any time disengaging the weapon, Crazy Crow reached for his two knives and waded into the melee, slashing and slicing at all who approached him.
Frantically, I searched the battlefield for my small friend and the two dogs. Upon seeing them, my heart almost came to my throat. Apistanéwj and the dogs were taking on three warriors who had cornered him. The little one and the dogs had made their way to Grandmother and the children and were defending against all comers. One of the attackers had one of Apistanéwj’s arrows in his shoulder and two dogs on his legs ripping his thighs. Apistanéwj stood in front of Nukumi with his war club raised. As I approached, an enemy warrior moved toward me from my left. I swung my shield upwards and felt his chin give way as my shield struck his face. Just as I neared my friends, there was the horrendous scream of a wild animal. Then, from the forest, a huge, snarling black cat grasped hold of the man nearest Grandmother and the two of them rolled in a tight, bloody ball. Next, a crack like a falling tree branch exploded in my ear and a Stadacona warrior dropped to his knees with a huge hole in the back of his skull. At that moment out of the darkness of the forest, before I could even imagine moving, a muscled warrior limped out with a war club and brained the man struggling with the two dogs. I stood awestruck as Crazy Crow strode by. He winked at me and embraced this warrior. “Mitigomij, my old friend! I see you still are keeping company with that wild cat. He has not eaten you yet?”
Mahingan
As we crept through the forest, my wolf started to growl. I whispered to the Ouendat men, “The time is near!”
Then I heard the sound of a crow’s fight call, followed by the forest echoes of men yelling. Led by the big wolf, we charged into the noise of battle. Immediately our small group came head-to-head with three young Haudenosaunee warriors. They were frantic and tore into us like wild animals. I caught the sound to my left of the sickening thud of bones breaking. Following the reverberation of the noise, the Ouendat warrior Öndawa crashed at my feet. Raising the hand with my war club in it, I turned to face a scowling man just inches short of myself, wearing a hat of feathers. He was preparing to take a swing at me with his club. I raised my weapon to block his attempt, which the man’s powerful swing knocked out of my grasp. With my club dangling on my wrist by the leather thong, I had no time to regrip the handle. With my other hand, I took a jab at him with my spear, using an upward motion that caught him in the armpit. The spear broke the skin with a spurt of blood but did not slow down my adversary.
I swung my right arm upward, hoping to flip my club onto the palm of my hand. During this motion to retrieve my only defence, I watched in dismay as my foe swung his weapon at my head. In that instant, before the crushing blow, the man disappeared from my sight in a blur. Looking to my right I realized the enemy was now in a death struggle with Ishkodewan. The big wolf had the man by the neck, dragging and shaking him as if he were a small rabbit. The warrior did not utter a sound as the grip on his throat suffocated him. I took my spear and drove it into his chest. Calling off my wolf, I bent down and thanked him for his timely appearance.
As I rose, I watched the three remaining Ouendat warriors unmercifully clubbing and hacking to death another of our foes. In the woods there were small, scattered duels going on between attackers and defenders. I approached a small clearing and found Mitigomij embraced by Crazy Crow. With them was a giant of a man, a little person, and two dogs unlike any I have ever seen before. My wolf growled a warning at them, but I raised a hand to him. In the hands of the tall man I noticed a strange weapon covered with blood and a different kind of shield from our own.
Crazy Crow stepped forward to embrace me, saying, “My friend, it is so good to see you again! Please meet my new companion Glooscap and his warrior friend Apistanéwj. They have travelled to the Land of the Mi’kmaq with the guidance of Nukumi, my mother, who says these two very different-sized warriors have special powers yet to be discovered. Myself, they have impressed me with their bravery. Although the little one seems the spunkier of the two!”
Everyone broke out into laughter, relieving the stress of the battle and close brushes with death.
As with every battle, there are the losses to mourn. Because we were able to ambush our foes, we kept our losses to a minimum. The three Susquehanna boys, Abgarijo, Oneega, and Sischijro, had all suffered wounds. Oneega’s was the most serious, an arrow in his left shoulder. Nukumi, with the help of Nigig’s wife, was working on his wound, trying to remove the arrowhead and applying healing herbs and salves. We had lost two warriors, the Ouendat Öndawa fatally wounded, along with one of the Mi’kmaq warriors, Matues.
The Haudenosaunee and Stadacona had suffered more losses than us: six dead and maybe as many wounded. We had captured two of the wounded men, and the Ouendat men were presently taking liberties with them by the fires. The captured men were singing their death songs in preparation for their demise.
No Hair and the two warrior women had taken to the forest to chase down the escaping remnants of this war party. Knowing those three, they would never give up until they chased some of the fleeing warriors down.
Tonight we would bury our dead, rest, and plan our next moves. I began telling Jilte’g what the Susquehanna brothers had relayed to me about Corn Dog’s plans when Crazy Crow interrupted.
“My friend the ga’ququis has brought back disturbing news.”
21
THE CLASH OF NATIONs
Jilte’g and I both stared at Crazy Crow.
“The crow says that a woman and young girl are running toward us in the forest. A large force of Haudenosaunee is pursuing them. Two or three times as many men as we have! And more that stayed behind with their boats.”
With my heart in my throat, I asked, “How close are they?”
“Not far, but she is veering off to the south. She seems to know where they are going. They are probably Maliseet women.”
“Crazy Crow, they are not Maliseet. I think they are my wife and daughter,” I replied.
“Your wife!” he blurted.
Quickly I told him the story of her capture close to seven years ago.
Jilte’g broke in and said, “We do not have enough men to take on this force.”
“I can get men,” Crazy Crow said. “There is an old shaman I k
now in the Maliseet village close to here. If I send the ga’qaquis, he will know enough to follow with a force. I always told him that if a crow came to him, it was from me. He was to gather as many men as he could and follow the bird because I was in need. He will come with help.”
Crazy Crow whispered to the crow and sent him off.
Just as the bird left, No Hair and the Warrior Women returned with no prisoners, but they were carrying bloody ears.
Crazy Crow looked at Kànikwe and saw the scalp hanging from his war club.
“They call you No Hair, I am told! Whose famous scalp is that on your club?”
“It is mine,” he replied. “I took it back from the warrior who had ripped it off me in the first place.”
The Mi’kmaq warrior looked at Kànikwe and roared out a huge laugh. “This man and his female companions will come and sit with me! Come, everyone around the fire, it is a full moon tonight and there is no time to waste. If we are to save this woman and child, this is what has to happen.”
Wàbananang
We had been running for most of the day, stopping only twice to drink from streams and to take a handful of corn. The dry corn swelled our bellies with the addition of water, staving off our hunger.
“Pangì Mahingan, my daughter, how are you doing?”
“Fine, Mother,” she replied. “You can set the pace faster; I can keep up!”
So far we had been able to keep ahead of the pursuers I knew were behind us. If caught, I was sure it will be the fires for me. My daughter might still figure into Corn Dog and Winpe’s plans, saving her life if caught.
“Mother, look, an àndeg (crow). It is flying so low!”
The bird, shockingly, landed right on my shoulder. I turned and looked into the bird’s eyes, and then it raised its head, kept nodding it, and flew off. I watched as it circled then came back.
“Mother, it wants us to follow! Let’s do it!”
Thinking it a sign, we followed the bird through the densest part of the woods, hoping beyond hope that someone was watching over us.
Mahingan
Crazy Crow had divided our force. It was a gamble. To the young Mi’kmaq, E’s, he gave the task of leading Kàg and myself to a sheltered ravine in the deep woods. Here, he said, one of his feathered friends would be leading Wàbananang and my daughter to us.
Nigig’s family, Nukumi, and the Mi’kmaq captives we had rescued were left with the three wounded brothers and the two Mi’kmaq men that were barely hanging on to life from being tortured.
Crazy Crow had taken Glooscap, Apistanéwj, Mitigomij, and the two big dogs. As he left with this group, he turned and said, “With these warriors I can take on anyone!”
The other eleven warriors split in two groups. Jilte’g took the three Ouendat warriors and Nigig. Mònz, the twins, No Hair, and the two Warrior Women were left together.
Seventeen against forty or more elite Haudenosaunee warriors. Very poor chances if the Maliseet warriors did not get to us in time.
The plan was to get my wife and daughter to the protection of the ravine. Crazy Crow and his group would stay between the oncoming Haudenosaunee and us, with the other two groups staying to the sides, hidden and trying to pick off the enemy from their concealment.
Corn Dog
“Winpe, this woman and her daughter are well conditioned. We need to try to get ahead of her and double back. I am taking six of our best runners and we are going to circle and come back to her. She must not outrun us. You keep pressing from the rear. I have had enough of this woman. She will feel the flames of the stake once we capture her!”
Mahingan
E’s led the wolf, myself, and Kàg to the ravine. We sat down and waited, watching the sky for the big crow Crazy Crow had sent. I was just dozing off when Ishkodewan started to growl. Quickly standing, I looked to the sky. There was the bird, and then I could hear hurried footsteps. Out into the small clearing ran a woman and a young girl. They stopped suddenly with fear in their eyes. The woman drew an arrow into her bow.
I yelled, “Wàbananang!”
Dropping the bow, she cried, “Mahingan!” and wrapped her arms around me, sobbing. “I love you!” she said. Then, turning, she held out her hand and said, “This is your daughter, Pangì Mahingan.”
Just as I bent down to reach her, I felt an enormous pain below my left shoulder blade. Looking down at the front of my shoulder, I saw an arrowhead protruding through from where it had entered my back. Still with presence of mind, I was able to guide my family to a jumble of huge rocks near the small stream that ran through the ravine. We had barely reached the cover when another arrow hit me and tore through my right leg. Stumbling, I fell behind a huge rock for shelter. Looking up, I watched as my wife loosed two arrows in quick succession. E’s and Kàg were beside us. Kàg, though, had an arrow protruding just below his ribcage on the side of his heart.
The pain was excruciating. I grabbed the arrow in my shoulder and pulled it through. Then I did the same with my leg. The blood spurted out, but with the help of my daughter I was able to jam clumps of moss into the holes and stem the flow. Reaching for my arrows and bow, I thanked my father under my breath for teaching me to pull back a bow with either of my hands. After holding the bow and loosing one arrow, I realized that I did not have the strength in my left shoulder to do this. I used my feet for a bow brace and loosed an arrow at a shadowy figure in the tree line. I was losing strength and could taste blood in my mouth.
“Brothers,” I could hear Mitigomij yell, “we cannot reach you from here. You have to hold out.”
“Mitigomij, Kàg, and I have taken arrows. You have to get Wàbananang and my daughter out!”
“I have spent what seems a lifetime without you, my love; I will not leave again of my own free will,” my wife whispered to me. “Mitigomij, it is I, Wàbananang. Send the Black One down for my daughter. She has to live!”
Then a shout came from the tree line. “Mahingan, it is I, Ò:nenhste Erhar. I have come for you today, for you, your brothers, and all who are with you. Today you die.”
I had no energy to answer him; I could feel my strength slowly disappearing. One of the Haudenosaunee charged from the trees, straight for our hiding place. The two others followed him. E’s drew his bow and Kàg gripped his war club. Then, over the enemies’ war cry, I heard the distinctive crack of a slingshot. Looking back out from around our cover, I watched as one of the rushing men’s heads cracked open like a duck’s egg. Down he went, skidding to an abrupt stop.
I could hear the twang of my wife’s bow as she shot three arrows in quick reply. Then I heard a deep, ominous growl. Looking behind, I stared into the eyes of Makadewà Wàban.
I pointed at my daughter. “Take her.” Then to my daughter, “Do not be afraid. Go with him.”
The big cat grabbed her behind the neck, holding her shirt in his mouth. With one powerful leap, he was gone.
One of the charging warriors saw this happen and chased the two of them into the darkness of the forest.
“Ishkodewan, go,” I said.
The big wolf chased after the unsuspecting man, and as he disappeared into the gloom there was a bloodcurdling scream and then the sound of a wolf howling after it has made a kill.
Mitigomij
Mitigomij and his three companions were trying to keep the enemy warriors below them pinned down. Mitigomij stopped one in his tracks with the slingshot. He started to reload when the forest behind him and his companions erupted in screams.
The four of them turned to await their fates. Warriors started streaming out in ones and twos. The little one stood and fired his bow as quickly as any seasoned warrior. The two big dogs beside him were ready to pounce and defend the small one with their lives.
Crazy Crow, with a big smile on his face, was picking off Haudenosaunee warriors as if it was just ordinary target practice.
Then, out of the trees strode a warrior as fierce as any of them had ever seen, tall and straight, with chiselled features and
the lithe body of the finest Haudenosaunee warriors.
“Winpe!” the man’s voice boomed. “It has been a long time, my friend, and today we finish this!”
With giant strides, the man Mitigomij knew as Glooscap set upon this warrior.
The first warrior looked out on the land that was his Home.
He saw the hills
And the stars
And he was happy.
For giving him his home, the first warrior told the Great Spirit
That he would fight and win many battles in His honour.
But the Great Spirit said, “No, do not fight for me.
Fight for your tribe,
Fight for the family born to you,
Fight for the brothers you find.”
“Fight for them,” the Great Spirit said, “for they are your Home.”
AFTERWORD
The character of Glooscap is a very important part of the Mi’kmaq culture. His introduction in this book is a significant new character. Glooscap came from the “Land of Granite” so I introduced him from present-day Newfoundland as an ordinary man. As the story progressed, if the reader knew who Glooscap was in popular lore, they would realize that the little person, the dogs, and grandmother were integral parts of his coming life as Glooscap. In addition, Winpe in the final scene fills out the legendary characters that are part of Glooscap’s life and lore.
The Vikings, though, they never could set down permanent roots in this part of the world, would give the Natives of this era a small hint of what was yet to come.
When Natives tell stories of the exploits of their fellow warriors, they are spreading the tales of great warriors and leaders. The ultimate accolade a warrior could receive is that his peers tell the story of how he became a warrior.