Читать книгу Algonquin Quest 2-Book Bundle - Rick Revelle - Страница 18

The Island People

I WOKE THE NEXT morning to the sound of rain on our lodge roofs with the accompanying thunder and lightning. This weather would help us in many ways. It would bring the Hochelagan canoes to shore, and they would be so anxious to make shelter from the rain that they may let their guard down.

We were constantly struggling to have enough to eat and always battling the elements to stay warm or dry. Add the constant threat of our enemies and it was a life of never-ending vigilance. Our whole survival as a nation depended on the health of our women. They cooked, looked after the children, maintained our lodges, prepared skins for clothing, and foraged for berries, fruit, and other food. When we brought game home, they smoked and dried it. They gave birth to our children with sometimes deathly consequences. Our future existence depended on the survival of our children. Kitchi Manitou had given the men the power to hunt and fish and make war. Nations waged war for two main reasons: to weaken their enemies and to capture women and children. With the capture of the women and children, the tribe could remain strong. Children grew up to be warriors and wives. Without either, the tribe would wither up and die like a fall flower. A community of men would die out eventually, but a village of women and children would survive and prosper because the children could grow and reproduce. While Nokomis fed all of us, the women were made in her likeness to carry on her work. When a man married, he always went to the matriarchal home. This was another reason woman wielded so much power. They brought warriors to the family unit, strengthening the village. The wife’s mother was treated with great reverence and was never talked to directly by her daughter’s husband. He and the mother-in-law had to talk to each other through his wife or another family member, never person to person.

Until then, I had not lost any of my brothers to another family unit. Mitigomij and Wàgosh were unmarried. Kàg’s wife was captured in a raid on a Haudenosaunee camp many years ago when she was young. My wife, Wàbananang, was the daughter of Nìjamik. Mònz, our brother-in-law, was the son of Pijakì and married to our sister Mànabìsì (Swan). Kàg’s first wife was of the Nibachis. A year after they were married she and their newborn son both died at childbirth. Kàg left his wife’s family unit and came home to us. A couple of summers later, on a raid against the Haudenosaunee, he captured a young woman and brought her back to be his wife. Her name was Kinebigokesì (Cricket), the mother of the twins.

While Kitchi Manitou only gave us this land to oversee, we had to defend our interests. If someone else tried to force us off or threaten our families, we had to stand and fight. If we didn’t and were submissive, we would be under their mìgàdinàn wàgàkwad (war axe) and have to suffer the consequences of any decisions our enemies made for us. That usually meant death or a completely different way of life than we had been used to, being their slave.

My thoughts were now on what the next few days would hold for us. Would there be death? These battles were always brutal because of the weapons we used — arrows and lances that tore as they entered the body. Hand-to-hand combat with knives that ripped and cut. War axes that broke bones and caused tremendous head wounds. If you were wounded and managed to live through the battle, you could bleed to death or die from infection if the Shaman or your fellow warriors couldn’t get to you to administer the healing plants. If you were wounded and your tribe had retreated, you could expect no quarter from the enemy. All warriors were considered a threat. If captured alive, you were usually tortured or forced to run the gauntlet. And if you survived the gauntlet, sometimes you were adopted into the tribe or suffered painful retribution from your enemy. Surrender was almost always worse than death. The only time a battle was usually one-sided was when one of the opponents had been able to lay a successful ambush or if the numbers of one of the opposing forces totally outnumbered the other.

The life of the Omàmiwinini was forever between life and death at any known time. Cluskap, the Creator Force, had fashioned this life for us, and we had to accept our fate.

With the rain having let up a bit, we left Mitigomij to watch over the campfires. Wàgosh, Wajashk, and I went into the forest with our birch pails and collected the tree sap. We would store it in the village and when all this danger had passed, the women would boil the water down to the sweet contents.

The forest was laden with the smells of spring and the life that the rain was giving it. For me this was the best part of the year. However, another month or so and the pikodjisi (blackfly) would hatch. After the blackfly come the sagime (mosquito). Both drove men and beast to distraction. The giant moose and wabidì (elk) would be driven out of the forest into the lakes and ponds to escape the menace. My people used the crushed root of the goldenseal plant mixed with bear fat to keep these insects away.

We spent most of the day gathering the sap and storing it. When we were finished, Mitigomij had a meal ready for us.

Just as dusk approached, the rain and wind picked up with increasing velocity. With the weather starting to worsen, we headed for one of our lodges. At that moment the dogs started to growl, putting us on alert. Grabbing our weapons, we headed toward where they were facing.

“Mahingan, it’s me, Asinwàbidì.”

“Enter, brother. We have food and a warm lodge.”

“Mahingan, because of the storm the Hochelagans have landed in the clearing. But there is another problem!”

“Yes, Asiniwàbidì, what is it?”

“There is more of the enemy than first thought. They have fooled us. The warriors in the canoes were a diversion. There was another force that had travelled through the forest on the distant river bank, and they have raided the Otaguttaouernin and taken captives. Wàgosh, they have Kwìngwìshì!”

With that Wàgosh jumped to his feet and grabbed his weapons.

“No, Wàgosh! We must wait for our people to come back. We are not strong enough in numbers to take on the Hochelagans until they arrive! If you go now they will leave with her and kill you in the process.”

“Mahingan, my brother, you are right. I’ll wait.”

“Asiniwàbidì, how many captives and warriors do they have?”

“Mahingan, it was hard to tell, but at least ten or twelve captives, all women and children. Warriors, they have twenty from the boats and another twenty-five or thirty from the woods.”

I then realized what had happened. “They must have left the other canoes down river on the eastern bank, then had those warriors continue on foot into the forest. That way when they were spotted on the river, their numbers didn’t cause any concern. When they were past all the village fires, they ferried the group travelling on foot to this side of the river and started their raid. Their plans must have been to raid all the way down the riverbank area until they reached their canoes.

“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. There 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.