At last, deliriously happy, Orinha saw his brother reappear at the foot of the stockade. He was carrying a huge leather water skin and broke cover to run over to the undergrowth where they were hiding. “He’s so brave!” thought Orinha. If there had been sentries posted on top of the stockade, if the Erie had been the least bit suspicious, they would surely have spotted him. Ganaha lay down in the high grass, tired but proud of himself. He crawled over to Orinha and Shononses and gave them a drink. The fresh water invigorated them. Ganaha’s daring fired their courage. Ganaha moved from one warrior to another to quench their thirst. When he reached Kondaron, he explained that he found a way into the village through a gap in the stockade. It had been risky, but Kondaron did not dare chide him, since the water was so welcome and everything had worked out so well. His plan remained unchanged, and Ganaha returned to his post beside Orinha, who was now galvanized by his brother’s daring. Trembling with excitement, he promised himself he would be just as extraordinary when they next attacked.
The sun was setting on the far horizon when the group of women finally made their way back to the village. Orinha counted eleven women and five men. They were carrying stone tomahawks and long wooden tools for working the soil. Only two men were armed with bows and arrows. Orinha was tense in the extreme as he awaited Kondaron’s signal. He could already hear the Erie chatting among themselves and paid close attention to the strange sound of their language, which he had never heard before. The Iroquois chief waited patiently, hoping the guards would fling the gate to the village wide open so they could rush in and fire at all the Erie within range.
But a sharp-eyed woman spotted one of the Iroquois hiding in the bushes. She shouted and pointed at him to sound the alarm. The two archers prepared to fire at Atotara and Tahonsiwa while the rest of the Erie ran for the village. Kondaron knew there was still time to intercept them and answered the woman’s cry with a blood-curdling scream of his own, which had all his warriors charging out from their hiding place. Ten shots rang out at once, and two of the Erie collapsed to the ground. The wounded hobbled on as the Iroquois closed in on the enemy, brandishing their knives. Four men stood their ground to fight.
Orinha attacked right away and struck the wounded man nearest him as hard as he could. The Erie could not avoid his club and collapsed in a heap, lifeless. Then, Orinha went after the Erie who were trying to get away, without a thought for the archer behind him, who had him in his sights. Fortunately, Ganaha had his wits about him and leaped on the archer, stabbing him with his knife. Orinha caught up with their fleeing victims just as the guards were hesitantly opening the gate to the village. The young Iroquois warrior didn’t even think twice about grabbing one of the women by the hair, tossing her to the ground, then yanking on her locks to get her to run the other way.
Ganaha killed the only man who tried to run away, throwing a tomahawk at his back. He then rushed to help Otasseté, who was having trouble overpowering the second archer to take him prisoner. Tahira stood in the way of a woman and easily captured her, but she bit him and ran away. Tahira caught her and killed her with a blow from his tomahawk. Meanwhile, Kondaron and Shononses seized a man by the waist and were struggling to take him prisoner. But he put up such resistance that they beat him harder still and finally killed him. Kondaron scalped him while Tahonsiwa and Deconissora cut the throats of two injured women who were trying to crawl back to the village. Quickly they scalped them and walked off with their trophy. Ganaha recovered his tomahawk and scalped the dead man. Shononses grabbed hold of a slightly injured woman who was playing dead and dragged her behind him.
Cries were coming from all sides. Nine bodies littered the ground. Only four women had managed to escape. Several Erie archers had now taken positions atop the village stockade, firing arrows down at them. Orinha shoved his prisoner harder to hurry away from the danger. Kondaron shouted for all the warriors to leave— now! Arrows were whistling around them. The chief stood his ground for a moment to make sure all the Iroquois were accounted for, then moved to the head of the troop and fled, bringing two women and a man with them without stopping to collect the scalps of all their victims. Too risky.
The Iroquois ran flat out, dragging or shoving their prisoners, who were also running for their lives. Orinha saw blood everywhere; his ears were still ringing with cries of terror. He kept hold of his prisoner like a living trophy, drunk with victory. Even though their plan had almost come to naught, they were once again victorious and everyone had escaped unscathed. It was true that the spirits were with them. But Tahonsiwa, turning round, saw a hundred warriors pour out of the village and come after them in hot pursuit. They were not out of the woods yet. Faster and faster they ran, to save their skin. As far as they could go they ran, breathless, exhausted. They did not stop until nightfall.
As the moon was almost full and the sky cloudless, they had no difficulty seeing what lay ahead of them. Kondaron decided that he and his companions must go on. They waded down a river to disappear without a trace. Come morning, the two women were exhausted. One was injured, the other livid. They were slowing the troop down too much. Kondaron ordered they be executed, for the safety of the group. Shononses cracked his prisoner’s skull open with his tomahawk. But Orinha couldn’t bring himself to kill his prisoner in cold blood; she tried so hard to save her life. He asked Ganaha to kill her instead, and felt sick to his stomach when the two bodies were scalped then flung into the river, grim victims of the frantic flight. It was a cold calculation: the lives of the Iroquois against their own, their deaths bereft of glory or defiance, a question of speed, no more, no less. They set off again, moving as fast as they could until evening, lungs on fire, throats red raw, muscles shaking, fear in the pits of their stomachs. The survival instinct of animals.
After a night of rest, the war party made an early start at first light, along with its only remaining prisoner. They headed due south, cutting through the woods. The branches and brushwood scratched their bodies as they went. From time to time, they forced themselves to follow a river or a stream, walking in the water to cover their tracks. The Erie had probably given up the hunt, but how could they be sure? Kondaron did not want to take the risk. He and his warriors would cover as much distance as possible so that their enemies would be afraid to venture too far from home. At any rate, they would have to continue the offensive in another region. Without saying a word, they suffered in silence and followed the tireless Kondaron.
THEY REACHED THE OUTSKIRTS of a region badly damaged by fire. There they found little to eat, and hunger struck quickly. They set up a makeshift camp on a small hill, in the middle of a broad expanse of undergrowth that had started to grow back amidst the charred trees. From there, it would be easy to see the enemy coming. The undamaged forest was no more than an hour’s walk away, and the warriors went off in threes and fours to hunt there during the day. But the game seemed to have abandoned the area and, more often than not, they returned empty-handed.
Kondaron wanted the prisoner to tell them where the Erie villages were, where the best hunting was to be had, and more about the region in general. But it seemed he would rather die than reveal anything to the Iroquois, despite the burns they inflicted on his body, despite the two fingers they cut off so he could never hold a bow again. In any event, the man did not understand Iroquois, or Algonquin, and the Iroquois did not understand the Erie language. Only Orinha thought he could make out the odd word. In the hope of getting the prisoner to tell them what he knew, Kondaron ordered that their meagre meal be shared with him. The decision didn’t go down well; some members of the party even began to call their chief’s authority into question.
Soon, a day of heavy rain made the situation worse. The warriors had nothing with which to protect themselves from the bad weather. It was all they could do to keep their powder dry. Tensions came to a boil the next day, when the Iroquois who’d stayed behind at camp heard three shots ring out in the distance, despite Kondaron’s clear instructions to use only bow
s and arrows. Kondaron, Otasseté, Shononses, and Tahira immediately prepared to defend the camp while Ganaha and Orinha went off to scout the nearby forest. They waited anxiously at its edge, fearing the Erie had ambushed their companions. Then, more shots rang out.
At day’s end Ganaha and Orinha were relieved to see that the others had come to no harm. The four hunters returned from the day’s expedition with two small partridges, a hare, and plenty of swagger. They had used their muskets despite Kondaron’s orders and clearly had no regrets. The situation was becoming intolerable. Before animosity shattered the group, they met to try and work things out.
All the members of the war party gathered together in a circle around a foul-smelling, half-burned fire. The exposed area around them only added to the feeling of destitution that had been weighing on them for days. Night fell. Tahonsiwa spoke for the defiant hunters. They’d made up their minds to use their firearms, he explained, when a deer bounded out of the range of their bows after their best efforts to hit it. They agreed they would have to use their muskets if they wanted to bring anything back. They managed then to bring down two partridges.
“You brought us to this wasteland, where we all might die of hunger,” Tahonsiwa continued, “and you won’t let us use our muskets! It doesn’t make any sense! Are you frightened of the Erie? If you are, you’re no longer our chief. Deconissora, Thadodaho, Atotara, and I have had enough. The animals and spirits have all left. We say let’s get on with it and attack the Erie. We want more victories.”
Tahonsiwa’s words were met with uncomfortable silence. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. Their contested chief thought long and hard before he replied.
“You speak well, Tahonsiwa. You are a brave warrior, and you did well to try to kill a deer that would have fed us for days. But you seem to forget that the Erie are many. They know their lands better than we do. We were fortunate enough to claim a second victory without losing a single warrior. But we have had to flee here to escape the vengeance of the enemies who are pursuing us. Until our prisoner can lead us to safety, we must continue to be careful.”
“And we’ve had enough of feeding the prisoner!” Tahonsiwa shot back.
“He must die,” added Thadodaho. “He’ll tell us nothing.”
“You are wrong, Kondaron,” Deconissora said. “We must attack the Erie now, not risk this man sounding the alarm. Let’s kill him and eat him, not feed him. You need to get back on track and lead us into battle as you promised.”
While the men protested, Kondaron fell silent, and attempted to reconcile their opinion with his own. Meanwhile, Ganaha, who was sitting to the right of Kondaron, looked at Orinha, Otasseté, Shononses, and Tahira to see what they thought. He wanted to keep faith with his chief, but felt him bending to maintain his authority and keep the group together. All were hanging on Kondaron’s every word.
“So be it. We will execute our prisoner. We will also leave this hostile land, where even the animals no longer want to live. You are right, Tahonsiwa. It would be a bad idea to stay here any longer. But should we attack the Erie now or later? I want to know what each of you thinks. It’s your turn to speak.”
“Let’s attack!” exclaimed young Atotara, without a second’s reflection.
“I will follow you, Kondaron,” said Shononses. “You are our chief and I am with you.”
Orinha glanced at Ganaha out of the corner of his eye, waiting to hear what his older brother thought before he spoke up, because he would rather be on his side, whatever happened, even though he wanted Kondaron to stay on as chief. He did not get on very well with Tahonsiwa, the ringleader of the rebels, who seemed to be the meanest member of the group, perhaps because of the deep scar that ran across his cheek, perhaps because he so rarely smiled. But he was surprised to hear his wise words now that he had gotten much of what he wanted.
“I will follow you into Erie territory until you decide the time is right to attack,” declared Tahonsiwa. “I have confidence in the spirits guiding you— if you have confidence in them again too! You are my chief and I will follow your advice. But let’s not spend another day here. I see that you have understood my point of view and I am thankful for it.”
“I think the same as Atotara,” said Deconissora. “Let’s attack the Erie as soon as we can! There is nothing to be gained by staying here.”
“Yes, let’s leave now,” added Thadodaho. “I am still waiting to kill my first Erie and my tomahawk is growing impatient. I will follow our chief, provided he leads us quickly to the Erie. If not…”
Thadodaho did not finish his sentence, preferring to let the threat hang in the air and add to the pressure already on Kondaron. It was now up to the others to speak. Ganaha looked as though he wanted to hear what Otasseté— the oldest and most level-headed member of the group —and Tahira had to say, before he gave his own opinion. Otasseté understood and spoke up.
“Kondaron has shown wisdom in leading us here,” he said calmly. “He has protected us and ensured that each of us still has a chance to claim more victories. He thinks of our brothers, our sisters, and our parents, who want to see all of us come home alive. He has also shown wisdom by listening to Tahonsiwa, who spoke well: it is true that the time has come for us to return to enemy territory. But Kondaron can protect us, he knows how to lead us on to victory, and he is doing what must be done to keep us together. He is our chief and I will follow him to the very end. It is up to him to decide when we attack the Erie again.”
“I will do whatever Kondaron decides,” added Tahira simply, the more reserved of the two. “Long live our chief! May the spirits be with us!”
Ganaha was the only experienced warrior not to have spoken yet. He saw that Orinha did not want to speak right away.
“My father Garagonké is a war chief respected by all Mohawks,” he began. “He is known across the five Iroquois nations for having claimed countless victories against the Susquehannocks, the Mohicans, the Algonquins, the Neutrals, and the Hurons, as well as the French and the Dutch, who fought us unsuccessfully before becoming our allies. He chose Kondaron to lead our war party because, ever since he was born, powerful spirits have guided him and he has already proved he is a great warrior, not to mention a wise and sensible man, despite his young age. Like Otasseté— the oldest among us —said, I support Kondaron and will follow him right to the end. The decision to attack the Erie is his and his alone, when the time and place are right.”
Orinha was surprised to see that everyone was now waiting to hear what he had to say, as though his opinion carried as much weight as the experienced warriors who had grown up with war, as though it was up to him to cement or unravel the growing consensus.
“You have all spoken well,” he said with humility. “A young warrior like me is keen to absorb everything you say. Like Otasseté and Ganaha, I leave it up to our chief Kondaron. I promise to serve him faithfully and to help each and every one of you to the best of my ability.”
Ganaha and the other warriors were pleased at Orinha’s attitude. He had understood his place in the group. Everyone was happy to see him learning quickly and maturing well. Kondaron had managed to re-establish his authority by accepting a quick return to Erie territory and agreeing to look for better places to hunt. Nevertheless, he remained serious and modest. He gathered his thoughts in silence, throwing a few handfuls of tobacco on the fire, as was his wont. Then he brought the meeting to a close:
“Let us thank the spirits for casting light on our discussion. Let us thank them for having kept our unity intact. It is our most valuable asset, if our expedition is to succeed. I thank Tahonsiwa for reminding me of my promises and steering me back on course. Tomorrow, we will return to Erie territory in search of a mighty victory. However, I ask each of you to be patient and to wait for a favourable occasion. We must avoid the fury of the Erie: they are courageous warriors and they vastly outnumber us. If we do this, we will all see our families again and they will be proud of us.”
A few
hours later, Thadodaho took care of executing the prisoner, who was then roasted and eaten. In spite of his hunger and his willingness to imitate his companions in every respect, Radisson struggled to swallow the mouthfuls of human flesh. The meat rolled around his mouth like a foreign body, a poison that he had to force himself not to spit out. Even with his eyes discreetly closed to lessen his disgust, he found this particular Iroquois custom hard to bear. In his distress, images of his past life in Paris and Trois-Rivières briefly resurfaced. Now that his new life had brought him adventure, challenges, friends, and satisfaction in abundance, those images seemed strange and no longer moved him.
CHAPTER 8
THE WIND CHANGES
WEEKS PASSED. After several days of cautious wandering, the Iroquois returned to the first encampment they’d built earlier, near the river. They felt safe there, for the Erie must surely have believed that they’d left the area for good. They were happy to find the powder and provisions they had stored, buried in bark containers. They also recovered the canoes they had hidden near the shore of the small fishing lake. Now they would be able to move around more easily.
Since they had left the barren region that put their unity to the test, they passed through any number of places that teemed with game. They wanted for nothing. But they still had not found the enemy they were looking for. Occasionally they would spot well-armed groups of three and four Erie, out hunting or moving goods. They also discovered a second fortified village, even bigger than the first, which must have been home to at least two thousand people, perhaps more. But Kondaron, supported by the group’s leaders, Tahonsiwa, Ganaha, and Otasseté, decided not to attack targets that were too big or too small, so as not to leave themselves open to new reprisals from the Erie.
Adventures of Radisson Page 12