Adventures of Radisson (14 page)

By now they had smoked and dried more provisions than they could carry. It was time to turn inland in search of the Erie.

T
HE RIVER FLOWED
slowly through flat terrain. They made rapid progress to the headwaters. After four days, they reached a small lake that Kondaron recognized. They were arriving in enemy territory, he told them; they must keep their wits about them. To the south and west of the crescent-shaped lake, forest fire had razed a vast area that they must cross to reach the land of the Erie. Kondaron thought it prudent to leave the canoes hidden by the lakeside, on the outskirts of that part of the forest spared by the fire, so they could make a quick escape if pursued by the enemy. If need be, they could build new ones.

They shouldered their weapons and packs and continued on their way through the wasteland. There was nothing to hide behind and they felt under constant threat. They made quick progress, raising an acrid dust that stuck in their throats and choked them. Their supply of fresh water soon ran dry and they were reduced to drinking the cloudy, ash-filled water they found in ponds and brooks. Every last animal had deserted that sterile place; the war party had to dip into its provisions of smoked meat and fish. When at last they reached the other side of the death and destruction, relieved no one had spotted them, Kondaron ordered a day of rest.

After they had rested, they came to a hilly region and there followed a turbulent river that wound its way between steep banks. Sometimes they had to take to the riverbed, wading through the water, careful to keep their powder and muskets dry. When the current got too strong, they clambered up onto the bank and walked on through the woods. They advanced in this fashion for two days, heading south through the high hills. From the top of a headland, Kondaron at last saw a welcoming river flowing through a broad valley: the land of the Erie.

Their every sense on high alert, without a sound, the ten men filed down through the open forest. Orinha was the only one to crack a twig or two underfoot. Ganaha, walking just ahead of him, turned and shot him furious glances. But all Orinha could do is shrug— there was nothing to do but wait until he became as nimble as his companions. It took them a few hours to reach the river. After carefully scrutinizing the area, Kondaron relaxed and announced that the Erie villages were still a good distance away: “We can set up camp here, no problem,” he told them. “Let's retrace our steps and build a fortified camp a good distance away from the water. We'll also have to build new canoes to move around in.”

They selected a site slightly higher than its surroundings for their camp, five hundred paces from the river. A few conifers provided a screen. The next day, while the more experienced men fetched the bark needed to make canoes, gathered firewood, and went off hunting Kondaron brought Orinha and Atotara with him to inspect their surroundings. They combed the riverbank for the slightest indication of human activity. Kondaron scanned the ground and searched the sky above the opposite shore for any sign of smoke that would betray the presence of the Erie. As they moved about, he was careful not to snap the tiniest twig: he nudged them out of the way with his foot, clearing himself a path to ensure no one would ever know they had passed that way. He instructed his two young warriors to do exactly as he did and to take their bearings as they went.

At the end of the day, as an exercise, Kondaron relied on his protégés to return to camp. Orinha had trouble finding the landmarks he had noted, but Atotara did it with ease. Subtly, Kondaron watched them just as carefully as he had looked for signs of life from the Erie. In both cases, he was satisfied. He'd found not a single trace of their enemy, and the war party's two youngest members appeared ready for combat.

Kondaron allowed tomahawks to be used to build the shelter and the canoes, which would be cruder than before. Hunting with a musket was the only thing he forbade: the noise would surely betray them. The log wall of the fortified camp was high enough to protect them from any Erie attack and large enough for them to sleep in safety during the night. A makeshift bark roof protected them from the elements. During the daytime, to avoid being surprised by the enemy, two men stood guard on a spit of land that jutted out into the river. When darkness fell, they all gathered around a crackling campfire. As they did not fear a night attack, they passed the time eating, talking, and loudly singing their war songs. Kondaron used the time to tell them tales of his victorious battles in the area last year. The emotion was palpable every time he mentioned the hundreds of people he terrorized with the firearms the Erie did not know, and the dozens of men and women killed or taken prisoner. “But this time,” he warned, “there are fewer of us, and the Erie will be less frightened of our muskets— many of them will know of them now. No doubt they will be better prepared to fight us. We must be extremely careful. I am counting on each of you to keep us safe. Stick together and always fight together. And we will win.”

The preparations over, Kondaron divided the war party into three. Each group would head out in a different direction to explore the area. That way, they would locate the enemy quickly, wherever they might be. Four warriors would go north in one of the larger canoes; four more would head south in the other. Orinha and Atotara would travel up the stream opposite the encampment in the small canoe. “We'll report back at camp at the end of the day,” said Kondaron.

The stream was cluttered with fallen tree trunks, rocks, and roots, making headway difficult. Again and again they had to get out and wade through the water, dragging the canoe over obstacles. Then they jumped back in and paddled for a short distance, wading around more obstacles. Both wondered why Kondaron had sent them off in this direction, where they were sure no one ever came. But it was the mission their chief had assigned them, and they intended to fulfill it to the best of their ability.

After several hours, they at last reached a small lake upon which they were surprised to see two human forms in the distance. They had been making no attempt to be silent, so their first reflex was to dive into the undergrowth and hide, in case their enemies heard them and attacked. They quickly opened the bark container protecting their powder and loaded their muskets, ears alert to the slightest suspicious sound. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. No one seemed to have seen them. Now that they could breathe more easily, they thought about what they should do.

Atotara whispered in Orinha's ear. He wanted to climb a tree to get an idea of how many people were out on the lake and see what they were up to. Orinha agreed in a whisper: “Go ahead. But stay well hidden and don't make a sound. I'll stay down here to keep watch.” Atotara climbed up onto Orinha's shoulders, then hoisted himself up from one branch to another until he'd reached the top of a tall yellow birch. He stayed there for several minutes, not moving a muscle, until Orinha heard him scampering back down. He landed on the ground with a thud and Radisson lost his temper:

“Shh!” he whispered. “You'll give us away!”

“There are only two of them,” Atotara replied. “Two fishermen. There's no danger. Quick! We still have time to attack before nightfall! It will be our first victory and Kondaron will be proud of us! Follow me.”

But Orinha shook his head violently.

“No!” he replied. “Stay here! If we attack with guns, the Erie will know the Iroquois are back. If any more of them are nearby, they'll attack and kill us, or else they'll warn other Erie and hunt us down. It's a stupid idea! We have to do what Kondaron said. We'll return to camp and tell everyone we have found our enemies. C'mon, let's go back!”

Now it was Atotara's turn to reject his companion's idea out of hand. They started pushing and shoving each other, but Orinha was the stronger and managed to drag Atotara back to the canoe. The younger warrior had to swallow his anger and accept the law of the strongest, however difficult it might be. But he sat at the back of the canoe and only pretended to paddle. Orinha did all the work up front.

The sun was already disappearing behind the trees. The day had gone by like a flash. No matter how hard Orinha paddled and wrestled with the obstacles in their path, the canoe could barely make headway. Atotara even refused to get out when his “chief” asked him to, stubbornly repeating: “We'd be far better off attacking them. They don't suspect a thing. It would be so easy.”

“Shut up!” snapped Orinha. “We have to tell Kondaron.”

“We'll bring two scalps back to camp and tell them, ‘we were the first to find the Erie. Follow us.'”

“Kondaron told us to be careful and to stick together. He wants us to attack together. Don't you ever listen?”

They wasted a huge amount of time arguing back and forth. Night came and rain suddenly started to fall. The heavens opened. There was no way they could continue in such conditions. Finally, they decided to shelter on shore, protecting themselves under the overturned canoe. They had nothing to eat. And it was too late to make a fire in such a downpour. It was cold. All night long, they huddled together in their tiny shelter, furious with each other, not exchanging a word. Happily, the rain stopped at daybreak. Relieved, the two set off again on a stream swollen by the cloudburst. The current swept them along toward the river. Their good humour returned at the thought that soon they would be eating with their companions. More than anything, they couldn't wait to tell Kondaron they had found the enemy.

A
LONG WITH
Otasseté, Ganaha had been keeping watch since dawn on the spit of land that formed a bend in the river. He'd slept badly and, worried, peered at the brook where Atotara and his brother had disappeared the day before. They hadn't returned to camp for the night, as planned. He recalled Kondaron's dream all too well, and the threat that hung over his brother. He was annoyed at himself for letting Orinha go off with the inexperienced Atotara, however harmless the brook might have looked. It was his responsibility to keep an eye on him. He also wondered why Kondaron had sent the party's two youngest members to explore unknown territory alone in the first place.

Time passed, and Ganaha was worried sick. If Orinha hadn't already been ambushed or gotten lost in the forest, he swore he'd never let him leave his side again. After all, it was he who first saw what Orinha was made of. It was he who wanted him to join his family. And now it was up to Ganaha to make a real warrior out of him! He swore he would avenge Orinha's death if ever the Erie had killed him. He would get them!

At last! The two youngsters came into sight at the mouth of the stream, paddling feverishly toward him. Ganaha leaped out of his hiding place, waving furiously. He guided them to him, happy to see they were still alive. Otasseté remained at his post while Ganaha helped them land, then hide the canoe.

“What happened to you?” he asked anxiously.

“We found the Erie!” they cried out.

The three rushed off to give Kondaron the good news. He decided they would attack the enemy the next day. Ganaha was proud of his brother.

That evening, Kondaron went off to meditate. Before going back to his companions, he chopped down a small fir tree and cut off the top. Then, he gathered his nine warriors around the fire to tell them a story handed down to him by his father.

“One day,” he began solemnly, “two young brothers got lost in the woods. They had gone hunting to feed the members of their clan. They didn't know where they were because they were so far away from their land. When night surprised them deep in the woods, far from home, they kept on going, even though they had completely lost their bearings. The next morning, they still couldn't find their way back. For days and nights on end, they wandered up hill and down dale, tormented by worry and hunger. They used up all their arrows, then they broke their bows, and even lost their tomahawks. After wandering for a whole moon, they recognized none of the lands they were travelling through. They were driven to despair. It was then that an incredibly tall old man appeared to them, the sunlight shining down brightly on his face, and spoke to them in a loud voice: ‘I can bring an end to your suffering, for I am a powerful spirit. I know every animal, every plant, and every pathway in this forest. I can guide you home to your village, if you so desire. I am offering you my help because I can see that you are two brave young men, and strong too. I also have the power to grant you a long life alongside your wives and children. But first, you must eat, for the journey will be long. Take this.'”