Adventures of Radisson (17 page)

THE WARRIOR'S RETURN


P
REPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY
took time: the injured recovered slowly and provisions had to be gathered with utmost caution. Once they were a few days out of enemy territory, a feeling of sheer relief swept over Orinha. Even though peace was less exciting than war, he was glad life had returned to normal. Danger was no longer routine. They were no longer in peril, and no longer had to hide all the time. There were no enemies to be tracked down or killed. Life went on peacefully enough, and that was just fine.

At first, the mountains were hard to climb, but soon the warriors and their captives reached a plateau, where stretches of river flowed between lakes that teemed with fish. It was just as well, since their fragile canoes were filled to capacity. The portages were not too frequent, not too hard, and the prisoners carried the heaviest loads. The cornmeal they took from the Erie came in handy. There was no shortage of fresh or smoked fish, or of fresh venison. Life was good and generous.

However difficult the route, Orinha had no trouble staying at the head of the group alongside Ganaha and Kondaron. How he had progressed over the five moons of their journey! He felt proud and confident in his abilities.

The wounded had now recovered. Deconissora had regained some of his aplomb and Shononses no longer grimaced with pain, even though neither of them was as yet up to paddling. Tahira limped a little, but lost none of his stamina.

The nine Iroquois and their three Erie prisoners reached another mountain range. They hauled their canoes up steep slopes, then down to the bottom of roaring waterfalls. Making their way along rocky paths, they carried their packs for long stretches at a time. The Iroquois kept close watch over their prisoners, who were tempted to try to escape, since they were being worked so hard. Shononses and Deconissora still had not forgiven the Erie who wounded them and told them in no uncertain terms that they would kill them if they attempted to get away. But Kondaron gave them all the food they wanted, to provide them with sustenance and encouragement.

The group at last reached familiar territory, where the Iroquois had imposed their law and sometimes came to hunt. Apart from members of their nation, no one came to the area, which abounded with beaver and game of every kind. After locating the spot where last year's war party had set up camp, Kondaron suggested they stay there for a few days to stock up on beaver pelts. They would be returning to the village at the height of the trading season with the Dutch, so the suggestion was welcome.

Over the following days, while Shononses and Deconissora stood guard over the three prisoners tied up at camp, the rest of the Iroquois fanned out to hunt in groups of two and three. Orinha always teamed up with Ganaha. One day, they heard two shots one after the other, followed by a far-off cry for help. Then, they spotted smoke signals. They hurried off in the direction of the smoke and soon found Tahonsiwa.

“Thadodaho and I saw two women. They ran away as soon as they saw us,” he told them. “Thadodaho chased after them, but the forest is thick and they managed to hide. We need help finding them.”

“We'll help you look for them,” Ganaha replied.

Tahonsiwa again roared at the top of his voice, a rallying cry to other warriors who might have been nearby. Ganaha fired another shot into the air. Minutes later, Otasseté and Tahira joined them.

“Let's go to the spot where Thadodaho and the two women disappeared,” suggested Tahonsiwa. “We must capture them. Everyone, keep in sight. We'll search every bush, under every tree. They can't have gotten far.”

“Let's find Thadodaho first. He'll be able to point us in the right direction,” said Ganaha. “We won't let them get away.”

They quickly found their companion, waiting for help on the shore of a small bay.

“They can't have crossed the lake,” said Thadodaho. “I was watching carefully. The last time I saw them, they ran off that way.”

The search was swift and efficient. Ganaha and Tahonsiwa needed only a few minutes to find the two women squatting helplessly at the foot of a tall fir tree. Exhausted, famished, and resigned, they did not attempt to run away. The six Iroquois took them straight back to camp where, shy and frightened, they devoured everything put in front of them. They spoke a language similar to Algonquin, which Orinha and Otasseté had no problem making out. The two warriors were promptly put in charge of interrogating the two women.

“Which nation are you from? Where are you from?” they asked.

“The Mississauga nation,” one of them replied.

The other woman remained silent.

“Where are you from? Answer me!” Otasseté asked the other, brandishing his club.

“Don't hit us!” the first woman answered, covering her head with both hands.

“Are you lost?” asked Orinha. “Nobody lives here. Only the Iroquois hunt here.”

“Yes,” replies the same woman. “We're lost. Help us. Please don't hurt us.”

Unsure of how to react, Orinha and Otasseté glanced at each other. The second woman still hadn't said a word. Despite her haggard looks, her sunken cheeks, and the feverish look in her eyes, there was no denying her beauty. Orinha immediately took pity on her.

“They must be escaped prisoners,” Kondaron concluded. He had been listening to the exchange and made out a few words. “The Mississaugas have been on the run ever since we defeated the Hurons. Ask them who captured them.”

“Who captured you?” Otasseté asked in Algonquin. “When did you escape? Answer me! Or your scalps will be hanging over my fireplace!”

The two women looked despairingly at each other. The woman who had not yet spoken at last opened her mouth.

“Tell them!” she said to her companion, without looking up at her captors.

“The Iroquois captured us with twenty other Mississaugas and Hurons,” the more talkative of the two said, hesitantly and fearfully. “We returned to hunt on our land, thinking the Iroquois had left for good. But they were still here. They were waiting for us. They killed many of our men in an ambush, then captured us and brought us to their lands.”

“Iroquois from which nation?” Kondaron asked Otasseté, who repeated the question in Algonquin.

“I don't know,” she replied. “They were cruel Iroquois,” she added, lowering her eyes.

“Go on!” Otasseté orders. “When did you escape?”

Staring at the ground, the woman continued her story. Her voice was barely audible.

“There were twelve warriors. They watched the men especially. One night, Maniska and I ran away into the woods. That was five days ago.”

“And we got lost,” Maniska, the good-looking one, added. “We don't know where we are. We are too far from our land.” Then, she broke into sobs.

“She is lucky we recaptured them,” thought Orinha. “Otherwise, they would have starved.”

Kondaron ordered his warriors to tie them up and bring them to wait with the other prisoners, while they decided what to do with them. Otasseté took the talkative one, and Orinha took Maniska. Orinha was struck by how delicate she was, how brave, how fragile. As he gently tied her hands behind her back, he could not help whispering to her, in Algonquin: “You're safe now. Don't worry.” Her fate was not in his hands, but that did not stop him imagining ways to spare her life…

The capture of the women changed the course of the war party. That evening, Kondaron held a meeting. The eight warriors gathered in a circle around the fire to listen to what their chief had to say.

“There are now fourteen of us, and we already have furs to carry too,” he explained. “Our canoes are no longer enough. We will have to build at least one more. I suggest we build two, to spread the load and make sure we return home safely. We will take the time we need to build the canoes, and to hunt beaver and other animals. It is late in the year and people in the village will be even happier to see us if we return with plenty of provisions. The two women will help us prepare the pelts. I suggest we spend two more weeks here. We will hunt as much as we can, while Otasseté, Shononses, and Tahira build the canoes.”

A brief moment of reflection was all that was needed to win the approval of all. Starting the next morning, Orinha started trapping beaver with unbridled enthusiasm. His eagerness surprised even Ganaha, who knew him well. Since beavers were few and far between in the Iroquois lands, Ganaha instructed his younger brother to lower his sights, forbidding him to kill mothers and young, just as their forefathers used to do. To please the older brother he admired so much, Orinha agreed to curb the fever for trade that had taken hold of him and spare the lives of the few additional beavers that he would have trapped before Ganaha spoke to him. Every evening when he came back from the hunt, Orinha brought fish and roast meat to Maniska. He made sure, too, that she was treated well during the day. Shononses quickly noticed Orinha's interest in the prisoner and, to please his young companion and friend, now watched over Maniska like a father. Orinha tried to make it look as though he was looking after the other prisoner with just as much care, in case it appeared that he was enamoured of the prettiest and jealousy were to raise its head. Shononses wasn't fooled for a second, but had no objections. Tahonsiwa, on the other hand, didn't like the adopted Frenchman hovering around his prisoners. He reckoned they belonged to him: after all, he saw them first. And so Tahonsiwa kept a discreet eye on his spoils. Meanwhile Thadodaho and Ganaha had claims of their own, since they had helped capture them. Seeing that Tahonsiwa was trying to keep them away from the prisoners, they complained to Kondaron, who was responsible for dividing up the spoils of the war party before they returned to the village. Each warrior wanted to gain as much merit as possible from his victories, and bring back his fair share of trophies for his family. Their chief would decide.

For the moment, all were grateful for the goodwill shown by the two prisoners, who made leather pouches for storing bear and deer fat. They also busied themselves preparing the beaver pelts and making meals for the three Erie prisoners. They were proving very useful. Orinha for one was sure they were worth more to them alive than dead. He had even given up on his original idea and now hoped to give Maniska to his mother as a slave to help her with her many chores around the house. It would be only fair after all that Katari had done for him— not to mention that she would be living in the same longhouse as him, at his side.

T
HE NEW CANOES
were ready; hunting had brought its rewards. The time had come to return to the village. Ganaha and Orinha loaded up their new canoe with three big bundles of beaver pelts and a leather pouch full of bear fat. Over Tahonsiwa's protests, Maniska climbed in with them, leaving Tahonsiwa to make the return journey with Thadodaho and the other prisoner. His canoe was also laden with pelts and part of the spoils taken from the Erie. Kondaron decided to travel with the youngest Erie prisoner, who had shown goodwill and was trying hard to learn the basics of the Iroquois language. The chief promised to spare his life if he proved himself worthy of his trust. The Erie sat in the bow where Kondaron could keep an eye on him. Their load consisted of two packs of smoke-cured meat.

The other two prisoners, either too stubborn or too perceptive to try to curry favour with the Iroquois, would doubtless be tortured and put to death as soon as they reached the village. In the eyes of Tahira, Shononses, and Deconissora, who guarded them closely, they were the most precious spoils from the whole campaign since they would be used to avenge the injuries the Erie had inflicted on them. They would also have to leave one of them with the Oneida to compensate for the death of young Atotara. Shononses and Otasseté took one of these prisoners with them in their canoe, along with pelts and a pouch of moose fat. Deconissora and Tahira took the third prisoner, as well as a pack of pelts and some smoke-cured meat.