by Rick Revelle
“Warriors, our plans have changed. We will let them raid us, thinking they have caught us by surprise. When our allies reach us, we will lay the trap. Hopefully this rain stays at this intensity, keeping the Hochelagans pent up until our brothers arrive. We can’t risk attacking them. They’ll have guards out and be on edge because they are in a strange land. The captives will be well guarded. They will do nothing until they can get their canoes into calm water. Our force will have to be split to handle their two-sided attack — land and water. Hopefully enough Omàmiwinini answered our call to make this trap successful.
“This will be our plan. All the fires in the lodges will be kept ablaze to make it look like we are all here. They’ll probably attack in the early morning while we should all still be asleep. Their forces will come from the river and the nòpimìng (forest).
“They’ll only have three or four men watching the captives. Mitigomij and Wàgosh will free them.
“Asiniwàbidì, go back to Mònz and Miskwì and tell them of our plans. As soon as the Hochelagans break camp, come to us. With luck on our side, the storm will hold another day, and we’ll have more men.”
The next morning brought the same heavy winds and rain. For us this was a good omen. Soon after we awoke and started the morning cooking fire, our allies started to come in. There was Minowez-I (War Dance) from the Kinònjepìriniwak with eleven warriors behind him.
From the Matàwackariniwak came fourteen men led by Pangì Shìshìb (Little Duck) and also with them were the two famous women warriors, Agwanìwon Ikwe (Shawl Woman) and Kìnà Odenan (Sharp Tongue). These two women were as skilled as any men in a battle. They were childhood friends. Neither of their families had any sons who had lived to warriorhood. When they were young, they proved their bravery in a great battle with the Nippissing and since then they had been accorded every tribute that went with being a warrior. They were constant companions, having made their home together, and neither had ever married. They were accepted by all in the Algonquin Confederacy of tribes.
Lastly, the great warriors of the Nibachis came into camp following Ajowà Okiwan (Blunt Nose). They were nine strong.
This gave our force thirty-eight warriors, plus our ten. Forty-eight total, enough to defend and win if my plan fell into place. When the warriors sat down to eat, they renewed friendships and past glories. Extra rations were given to my three young runners who hadn’t eaten anything except dried meat since they had left.
Upon sitting down with Minowez-I, Pangì Shìshìb, and Ajowà Okiwan, we decided on our plan of action.
Minowez-I and Ajowà Okiwan would go to the river to fend off that force. Pangì Shìshìb and I would lay the trap at the village. It was agreed that Mitigomij and Wàgosh would rescue the captives.
Everyone knew that if one of us failed, it would bring disaster down on the rest of us. Surprise was of the utmost importance. Ironically, surprise was of the essence for our enemy also.
For now we passed the time painting our faces and chests, talked of past battles, bravery, and family while beating on our drums to summon courage from Kitchi Manitou. There would be death in the near future, and we would have to be prepared to confront it with bravery. The wind at the present resembled a small child’s breathing and the rain was now a mist. We set out guards and everyone rested for the night.
Just as the dawn of the day was starting, I could hear the guards shout a greeting. Mònz, Asiniwàbidì, and Miskwì rushed into camp.
“Mahingan,” said Mònz, “they have started to break camp and will be here before the sun clears the treetops.”
With the news of the impending attack, I gathered everyone and told them to go to their spots. My group would go south of the village clearing. The dogs would have to be tied to stakes, or else they would follow us. The village had to have a habitual look, because if the enemy noticed there weren’t any dogs it would arouse suspicion. With the rain coming down in a mist, the Hochelagans wouldn’t expect anyone to be out. We made sure all the lodge fires were burning.
Everyone went to their places. The group led by Minowez-I and Ajowà Okiwan would be the most crucial part of the attack. They had to hold the force at the river, because if that faction broke through, we would be caught between the two Hochelagan forces with disastrous consequences.
While waiting in the forest, our bodies became wet from the rainy mist and our nervous sweat, and even with all this dampness I still could not keep moisture on my lips and in my mouth. The thought of an impending battle always brought out the weakness in a warrior. Death was not something that was looked forward to in this life, but it is an inevitable conclusion to living. We had to always go into battle knowing that we were defending our way of life and our families. Anything less in our thoughts would always bring out self-doubt, and with that came weakness. We painted ourselves for courage and to scare the enemy. Yelling and screaming as we entered battle relieved the tension and brought our senses to a state of euphoric intensity. I double-checked my weapons. Bow and quiver with fourteen arrows, one knife in my belt, another strapped to my right leg. My war club was in my belt with the rawhide wrist strap on the handle. This strap was important, because it insured I would not drop my club if I was hit, or if it was hit with another club. If it flew out of my hand it would stay attached to my wrist.
It was not long before we saw the first of the advance scout of the Hochelagan. Their bodies glistened in the early morning mist. There were three of them, but we would leave them alone. We wanted the main attacking force. If we killed this group of advance scouts it would warn the others of the ambush. The scouts stayed inside the tree line, avoiding the dogs’ sight line and staying downwind from the animals. They vanished as quickly as they had come. The attack would soon occur, now that they had seen that the village was unaware and supposedly sleeping.
With the disappearance of the scouts back to the main body of Hochelagans, I was now able to tell our warriors the plans in more detail. We would wait until all of our enemies were in the village. As soon as they checked a couple of our lodges and saw that there was no one in them, they would know that something was wrong. I told the warriors to pick a target and wait until my bow sent its arrow. Then they were all to strike. With Mònz on my left and Kàg on my right, I felt a sense of calm over my body and I knew I wouldn’t be harmed.
Within a few minutes, the enemy floated out of the forest like ghosts. They made no noise and threw pieces of meat to the dogs to keep them quiet. There were over twenty of them, and they walked furtively to our lodges. As the first ones looked into our homes, they realized something was amiss. At that moment, I let loose with my arrow and saw it enter the back of a warrior’s neck. Almost instantly, twenty-six projectiles hurtled through the air and the screams of the Hochelagans could be heard in unison.
Pangì Shìshìb and I led our men out of the woods, screaming at the top of our lungs. I looked to my right and saw Agwanìwon Ikwe and Kìnà Odenan hammering down a warrior with their war clubs and Kìnà Odenan scalping him with her knife. Kàg’s spear had only impaled his target in the leg, and now he was finishing the man off with another spear.
I soon returned my focus to what was happening in front of me. A brave with an arrow in his arm rushed at me with a stone axe. I was able to sidestep him and hit him on his wounded arm with my club. The force of the blow broke the man’s limb. I now found myself behind my enemy and grabbed his hair, pulling his head up baring his neck, and in one motion I grabbed my knife from my leg strap and slit the man’s throat.
In the forest from where the Hochelagans had entered, Mitigomij and Wàgosh were waiting for the battle to start before they made their move. Makadewà Wàban was close by and ready to pounce.
In a small clearing, there were seven women and as many young children held captive plus three Otaguttaouernin warriors who had already suffered torture at the hands of their captors. All of them had their hands bound, nooses around their necks, and were attached to the person in front of them. T
here were four men guarding the group and their attention was diverted toward the village.
At the first sound of screams coming from the battle area the men flinched. Then they started to laugh. With that Mitigomij’s slingshot snapped and one of the men dropped to his knees with a huge hole in the side of his head. Wàgosh let loose an arrow and another man dropped. Before the other two knew what had happened, they were struck with a fury. One warrior had his neck broken by Makadewà Wàban’s leap from a tree. The last Hochelagan turned to see Wàgosh descend on him only to meet with a crushing blow to his head by Wàgosh’s war club. In a matter of minutes, it was all over and the element of surprise had brought the quick death of the four captors.
Wàgosh ran straight for Kwìngwìshì and embraced her. Mitigomij cut the warriors loose first. Even though their hands were missing a few fingers and their bodies had been burnt with coals and burning sticks, they did not linger. The three of them collected the weapons of the dead men and started to scalp and mutilate them in retribution for what had been done to them. While this was going on the captives were crying in relief at being rescued.
Quickly, Wàgosh and Mitigomij gathered everyone and brought all of them further back into the woods. If any of the Hochelagans tried to escape in this direction they did not want to be caught in this small clearing with all these defenseless women, children, and three very battered warriors.
At the sìbì Minowez-I, Ajowà Okiwan, and their nineteen warriors were laying in wait. They had decided that they would commence their attack as soon as the Hochelagans started to pull their boats on shore. The river was ten minutes away and hopefully the sounds of their battle wouldn’t reach the village before they were able to attack.
The enemy came down the river in six canoes with eighteen warriors. As they neared shore, one man from each boat jumped out to drag it to land. The moment the boat hit land and the warriors started to pull the vessels up, Minowez-I and Ajowà Okiwan’s men let loose a volley of arrows. Twelve of the Hochelagans were fatally struck, the other six in a matter of moments were overwhelmed and struck down. The battle was over in mere minutes.
All components of the Algonquin force came together after the battle. In total six canoes were captured, along with seven of the enemy and all their weapons. Many scalps had been taken. This was one of the most lopsided battles the Omàmiwinini had ever participated in. The enemy had been totally destroyed, and we had only suffered a few minor scrapes and scratches. Our akandò (ambush) had worked to perfection.
It was decided that Minowez-I, Pangì Shìshìb, and Ajowà Okiwan could each take two prisoners of the seven that were captured, to do with what they wanted.
The captured women, children, and three warriors were all that was left of their village. They were given one of the captured men who had been the enemy chief. He would die a painful death of fire after running the gauntlet for what his warriors had done.
Myself, I was content to just take the canoes for our village.
Calling all the warriors together I spoke to them. “My fellow Chiefs and Warriors, we have won a great battle here today, one that will not be forgotten in years to come. Never before has a battle been so decisive and one-sided by an Algonquin force. It will be sung and talked about in our lodges for years. Now we will take all of the dead enemy warriors and pile them down by the river on a stack of wood and burn them. The stench of their bodies will travel in the wind to all our enemies, and they will know that the Omàmiwinini people are a strong and powerful nation. We will then throw their ashes into the river. Let it take them back where they came from.”
With that, all our people let out a song for the dead of the Otaguttaouernin people who had lost their lives at the hands of the Hochelagans. That night we would dance and sing and torment our captives. In a few days our allies would leave to go back to their family units and I would send out runners to bring our people back. The existing members of the raided village would stay with us until the summer when all the tribes met to trade and talk in council. Then they would go back with another family of the Otaguttaouernin if they so desired. The surviving captives would pay for what they had participated in.
14
The Aftermath
AFTER THE BATTLE WITH the Hochelagans, we sent hunters out to find game. They did not disappoint us, and came back with a moose and a deer.
We feasted, drummed, and danced for many days with our allies from the battle that had stayed to share in the celebrations.
The survivors of the Ottaguttaouernin village told us what they had suffered at the hands of their attackers. All their men had been killed, except for the three who had been rescued with the women and children. The Hochelagan captives were subjected to burning sticks and hot embers upon their bodies. Using clamshells we cut off their fingers to prolong their agony. If a warrior lost his fingers he couldn’t draw a bow, hold a knife, or paddle a canoe.
The chief who had led the war party here was made to run the gauntlet. All the women and children of the raided village, our allies, and my family group lined up on two sides. We spread burning coals on the ground and stripped the chief naked. As he stood at the entrance to the gauntlet he sang his death song. When he was done singing, he started his run. Everyone in the line had sticks and clubs. As the man ran on the coals he was struck repeatedly by all the tribal members in line. The Hochelagan was a brave man. Not once did he cry out in pain. When he reached the end of the line he was bloodied from cuts and his feet were seared from the coals. We then gave him to the women, who took him and finished the job of torturing him until he died.
The women cut out his heart at the end, and it was given to the man who had captured him. The people then decided that the other six captives would also run the gauntlet. If they survived, we would then give them one canoe with two paddles and let them leave. Five of the Hochelagans survived. Very few of them had any fingers left and they all had been beaten and burned. The women cauterized their wounds, and then they took them down to the river, put them in a canoe, and shoved off. With few fingers on their hands to paddle, they would probably die on the river. If they didn’t die and they did make it back to their village in Hochelagan they would likely starve to death, unless their relatives took pity on them and fed them. With few or no fingers they wouldn’t be able to hunt or defend the village. They would become a burden to their people. It doesn’t matter how good a warrior or hunter you were, if you ceased to be a person who could contribute to the well being of the village anymore, you were shunned. Everyone had to participate in the survival of the tribe. There are no idlers allowed. If somehow these men could make it back to where they were from and could help with the general welfare of the camp, they would survive. However, these men would still be considered outcasts. They came back as failed warriors. No fingers, no captives, no spoils of war and the loss of over thirty warriors in the land of the Omàmiwinini, branded as pariahs forever.
Failures like that would bring death and destruction on their village. No village could survive for long if it lost that many hunters and warriors. For a camp to survive the men had to be able to hunt. This was a bad omen to the conquered. It would be a long time before the Hochelagans would try to come to our lands again to make war.
In the course of the next few days Minowez-I, Pangì Shìshìb, and Ajowà Okiwan left with their warriors. Before they left, I told them there would be news about one of my family members in the next moon, when all the Algonquin tribes gathered for the summer meetings. With that I sent Makòns and Miskwì to bring back our women, children, and elders. Hopefully we would have peace for the summer and all would be safe.
15
The Wedding
THE BATTLE FOR THE captives and to save our village had been one full moon ago. Since that time all the people had come back to the village and continued on with their everyday lives. The men and boys were busy hunting and fishing. The ogà (pickerel) were now running down the smaller rivers to the big river that we call the Kitchi-S
ìbì. The men would spear the fish from their canoes or use weirs and nets. Women then made wooden racks and smoked the fish over a fire. After this was done, they dug a deep pit and covered the bottom with grass. Then they put bark over the fish and filled in the pit. We then had fish when we needed it. It didn’t keep for a long time in this pit, but long enough for our people to enjoy the food for a month or so until we caught more.
When the Hochelagans had raided Kwìngwìshì’s village, they had killed her father and brother. Now all that remained of her family was her mother. Wàgosh very much wanted to marry Kwìngwìshì. With the death of her father and brother, he really had no male to approach to ask permission. The three surviving warriors were not direct uncles but men who had married into her band.
Wàgosh approached Pijakì who was the village Shaman. He asked Pijakì how he should go about getting permission for his marriage to Kwìngwìshì.
Pijakì said, “Wàgosh, since Kwìngwìshì’s mother Kàkàskanedjìsì (Nightingale) is not your zigosis (mother-in-law) yet, you can still talk to her directly. With no male relatives, I say that you can ask the mother, but if you do get married you will not be able to talk directly again to your mother-in-law.”
“Thank you, Pijakì. I will ask her mother and hope for the best.”
When Wàgosh approached Kàkàskanedjìsì to marry her daughter she did answer him — by saying yes.
When I found out that there would be a wedding I said to Wàgosh, “Brother, you have gained two women to do work in your lodge and the good part is you only will have to talk to one of them. How good is that?