I Am Algonquin Page 14

  Standing in the knee-high grass I could see a magnificent elk. We were up wind from him, so he had not caught our scent. I put my hand out to quiet the animals. Motioning to Ojàwashkwà Animosh and the others, they stopped in their tracks. We were at least fifty feet out of bowshot and would have to work our way closer to the killing range of our arrows. We crouched down and duck walked to where we could shoot with maximum efficiency. It only took us a few minutes, and we were in range. Together, the five of us rose and let loose our shots. All hit the mark and then I sent Ishkodewan and the small dog in pursuit. An animal this large could run for a long way before it bled out, and we did not want to lose him. The meat would feed our group for the rest of the journey and the hide would bring a lot of tobacco and Three Sisters.

  As soon as the arrows struck, the big bull took off with a bellow that made my hair stand on end and my ears ring. The arrows had all hit in the neck and lung area, but this animal was huge, and he would have the strength to give us a good run. The wolf and dog were on the animal before he could make it to the woods and they all crashed through the underbrush with a sound that awoke all the birds and small animals from their midday drowsiness. Our small hunting group broke into a run and the chase was on.

  When we hit the forest area, the huge animal had ploughed a path wide enough for us to run two abreast. As we ran through where he had snapped off small trees, trampled berry bushes and thorn trees, we could see clumps of his hair fastened to the broken tree limbs and thorns. His blood was now spattering the trail, and we could see huge spatters of froth on the underbrush. If there were any human activity near us, they would have heard a wolf howling, a dog barking, and a huge elk bellowing in fear and breaking down small trees like a huge wind as he cut a swath through the woods. When we finally caught up to the animals, the dog and wolf had the elk cornered against a rock escarpment. The big bull was down on his two front knees, swinging his huge head so that neither of them could get to him. This preoccupation, however, cost him his life. The two warrior women had circled around him and charged from his back. Before the elk even knew they were there, they had buried their spears in his body behind his front withers, impaling the lungs. With one very huge bellow, he spurted blood out of his mouth toward Ishkodewan and the small dog. The two animals stopped in their tracks and stood stunned, covered in blood from the huge creature. At that moment there was not a sound as men and beasts stood dumbfounded at what had just happened in the blink of an eye. Ojàwashkwà Animosh, the other warrior, and I stood with our spears at the ready. We looked at the two warrior women and the dogs, their bodies red with the animal’s blood. Every- one fell silent until Ojàwashkwà Animosh’s man rea-ched into his pouch, took out a handful of tobacco, knelt by the huge beast, and gave thanks with a tobacco offering to Kitchi Manitou.

  After the offering, we started to butcher the animal and make travois to pull the meat out of the bush. The dog, wolf, and hunters carried the meat and skin out of the bush as we made our way back to camp. We would take as much as we could carry and leave the rest to the forest denizens.

  With blood trickling down his neck and chest from the spatter of the man behind him, Wàgosh turned and watched as the man dropped with an arrow impaled in his throat. Turning his attention back to the tree line Wàgosh could see six warriors charging through the forest at them. Wàgosh drew his knife in one hand and his war club in the other and charged at the nearest man. As the enemy neared him, Wàgosh dropped to one knee and drove his knife into the man’s thigh. The enemy warrior then caught him with a weak blow on the shoulder with his axe. Infuriated that a wounded adversary had struck him, Wàgosh swung his club as hard as he could on the back of the man’s left leg, bringing him down to the ground. Then driving his knife into the side of the man’s throat, Wàgosh ripped it forward. Withdrawing the weapon, he noticed his arm completely covered with the other warrior’s blood. Taking a quick glance at the dead man, Wàgosh was stunned to see who he was — Haudenosaunee!

  The one hunting party that had gone out to the north had been back since the noon sun, but Wàgosh and his men were still out to the south. The northern party had returned with a deer and some geese — enough food for a few days. However, we still needed more. Mitigomij could not spare any more hunters with Wàgosh still absent from the village. He needed as many men as possible for the village’s safety. With the family units slow in gathering because of the fire, he feared that there would be trouble and that there would be too few warriors to handle the village’s defence.

  This fear was based on the premise that the Haudenosaunee would find out about the fire and then take advantage of the turmoil that had beleaguered his people in the days afterwards. Death was always close by if there was an opportunity to strike when the Omàmiwinini were in a weakened state.

  After, Ojàwashkwà Animosh, his small party, and I had butchered the wàbidì, we left to go back to the camp on the river. We would eat well that night and dance with the spirit gods. With the added strength of the meat from this great creature, our bodies would enable us to cross the big bay and reach the shores of the Ouendat in a little more than a day. We gave Agwanìwon Ikwe and Kìnà Odenan the heart for their role in the hunt, for making the final kill. These two women never ceased to amaze me with their hunting, paddling, and warrior skills. Then on top of all these skills, they had the compassion of mothers when it came to children, elders, and the welfare of the village. I would take them and their friend Kànikwe over any other ten warriors. To me these three were as loyal, trustworthy, and fierce in battle as my three brothers and brother-in-law.

  Wàgosh found himself fighting for his life. The six original attackers had expanded by at least ten more. His small group of five warriors and he were being overwhelmed. Three of his men were dead and the other two were screaming in pain from being hacked to death with spears and knives. After slaying the two Haudenosaunee, Wàgosh found himself forced toward a cliff of about thirty feet with a small creek below that ran into the Kitcisìpi River. Now covered in blood — his own and his enemies — two of the men had lengths of rope with a noose and were intent on capturing him alive. One of the men let his guard down for a moment and Wàgosh was able to slash his arm as he tried to immobilize him with the rope. He then caught him with a glancing blow off his shoulder and onto the side of the man’s head. With a whimper, the wounded foe grabbed the side of his head and tried to keep his balance. Wàgosh was now back peddling precariously near the cliff. His mouth was extremely dry, his body clammy. His heart was quickening because he knew he was near either death or worse — captured alive. The remaining three Haudenosaunee were closing in to conclude this incident when two events happened simultaneously. He started to lose his footing and a war club hit him in the ribs with a crunch, knocking the wind out of his whole body with a resounding whoosh. As he felt himself falling, the last sounds he heard were the screams of his fellow hunters being hacked to death, along with the snapping of tree limbs. Then his head hit a tree while he was still airborne. Blackness followed.

  I woke Ojàwashkwà Animosh and together we brought in the sentries and roused the camp. We had camped on the shoreline of the Big Bay (Georgian Bay) belong to the Ouendat Nation, now we would have to journey the rest of the way by land and carry all our trade goods. The night before, we had pulled our canoes ashore and covered them with brush. Runners had been sent ahead to announce our coming. We knew where the village was, as we had visited two years ago. Unlike the Omàmiwinini, who were constantly on the move, the Ouendat may move a village possibly only every twenty to forty years.

  The community that we were heading for was the largest of the eight in the area surrounding the bay. They used a totem of a bear to bond the villages under a clan called Attignawantan. The clan’s function was to resolve conflicts among the people, as well as discuss war, defense plans, peace and trade. Overseeing all this was a council that met once a year.

  The Ouendat were shrewd traders and travelled by canoe to the Big
Water (Hudson Bay) in the north, to the west (now Lake Winnipeg), what is now the Gulf of St. Lawrence and the Chesapeake Bay area. They had many friends and allies but were usually at war with the Haudenosaunee. The land where the Ouendat lived grew wonderful crops of corn, squash, and beans. The Omàmiwinini people were extremely fond of these Three Sisters and considered it a privilege when we could trade for them.

  Over half of the Ouendat diet consisted of corn, either dried and shelled or pounded into flour, with which they made unleavened bread. In addition, they made corn soup and like our soups, they added meat, fish and berries to it.

  They planted their crops on raised hills. Before planting, they burned the brush in the fields to help fertilize the land. With the crops planted, the women erected lookout towers for them and the older children to keep watch. It was their job to keep the birds away from the freshly sown seeds by creating enough noise to scare them from the new seeding.

  In the fall, they harvested the crops and hung them in their longhouses. The corn was stored in pits and covered with grass and earth.

  Other than the longhouses and the growing of crops, the Ouendat lived a life very similar to ours. They had specially trained dogs that they used to hunt bears; the small dog’s parents came from this village in trade years before from the Ouendat. That is why he was so fearless. Furthermore, like us, they ate their dogs when wild game was scarce.

  After we had sent out our runners, we slowly travelled through the forest, burdened down with our trade goods. When the sun was in its mid-afternoon slide to the horizon, we heard a vast uproar of whoops to the front of us. Our runners had brought back twenty or so Ouendat warriors to assist us back to their village. The Ouendat helped lighten our loads, and ceremonially led away with whoops and song.

  It was not long until we came out of a stand of glistening white birch into a huge clearing. As far as we could see, was corn taller than a man, with squash and beans growing around the stalks. In the distance our eyes caught sight of a huge palisaded village with wooden walls twenty feet high and smoke rising up in columns from the longhouses dispersing against the crystal blue sky.

  We had reached their main village, the centre of the Ouendat Nation.

  25

  Ossossane

  THE VILLAGE OF OSSOSSANE was in the centre of the Ouendat Nation. All the decisions of this Nation became law here.

  When you entered the fortification of the Ouendat, the first thing that struck you was the enormity of the enclosure. The palisade itself was made of twenty-foot trees that were three to five inches in diameter. They burnt the poles at the bottom before they put them into the ground so they would not rot when driven into the soil. When erected, they were spaced from six to twelve inches apart and then woven with bark and small branches to close the openings. Along the bulwark they erected watchtowers and defensive galleries that were accessed by ladders. Along the walls of the fortification were large rocks to throw down onto their enemies and reserves of water to douse any fires that their foes would try to start at the bottom of the poles.

  After I took my attention away from the defensive structure, the inner village itself aroused my eyes and senses. The smell of meat and their garden produce cooking, interspersed with the aroma of wood burning and the body odours of nearly a thousand people was enough to set me back on my heels. These smells hit me like an impenetrable bramble of brush at a forest’s edge. It stopped me in my tracks and I stood along with my warriors stunned by all this and the noise. After spending so much time in the quiet wilderness getting here, the sounds and the smells amazed us and shocked our bodies into a realization that we were such a small amount of life in the whole scheme of things brought forth by Kitchi Manitou.

  The Ouendat lived in longhouses that housed lineage all related to the matriarch. At one of these huge houses, we were invited in to eat and tell the story of our journey there. The first thing that I noticed when I walked into the building were the smells that overpowered me when I had entered the village. However, even more overpowering in the smaller confined space were the fragrances of burning wood, tobacco, and the stench of body sweat. My eyes were also starting to sting and water from the lingering smoke of the cooking fires that were constantly going at all hours. The smoke appeared to hover before it escaped from the longhouse, climbing up to the ceiling and out through the smoke hole at the top. Every family had its own fire and there were six fires going in this lodge.

  All along the sides were platforms about four feet from the ground. Here they slept on cornhusk mats and furs and stored their food. In the winter, the family members slept beside the fires and along the ceiling hung meat, berries, corn, herbs, and other foods.

  For two days we would feast and tell stories before beginning to trade, which would take another two or three days.

  Makadewà Wàban came to the large oak tree where Mitigomij was leaning and growled. At the sound of the big cat’s warning, Mitigomij’s skin raised up into welts. Immediately he let out the warning sound of a pikwàkogwewesì to warn his outlying sentries. Only two of the three answered. Mitigomij drew his knife and club and waited for the inevitable.

  Even though the island they were on was easily defendable, without the added numbers of the outlying family units, they were spread too thin to protect the stronghold. When Mahingan had left, he was under the assumption that the other families would gather in for the summer meeting and there would be safety in numbers. In addition, after the big forest fire, our hunting parties were foraging father afield, reducing the amount of warriors that were available.

  Mitigomij had told his remaining warriors to have their weapons available at all times, even in the village. He had an uneasy feeling and could sense that Nokomis was breathing a warning toward his people.

  Mitigomij and the panther hid behind the large oak tree that completely concealed the two of them. He laid his knife and club at the ready and then loaded a stone into his slingshot.

  The first Haudenosaunee warrior emerged stealthily from a nearby stand of maples. Mitigomij’s aim was quick and sure. The man dropped to the ground with only a short grunt, as the stone had made a hole into the front of his skull the size of a baby’s fist. Startled, the intruder behind him stopped for one short pause of breath and this enabled Mitigomij to loosen two arrows immediately. One of the missiles entered the man’s left eye socket and the other arrow pinned another warrior’s hand to his chest.

  Three warriors felled in less time that it takes your heart to beat twice. The remaining five or six opponents caught sight of Mitigomij and charged. Makadewà Wàban met the leading warrior head on with a thundering crash of man and beast. The cat tore out the warrior’s throat with one rip of his huge incisors, and then swung one of his massive front paws, breaking another man’s leg with a resounding snap of bone, leaving the man screaming and writhing in pain. Mitigomij had been able to get one more arrow off, but he had rushed the aim and it had missed its mark.

  Grabbing his knife and war club, he waited for the remaining enemies to reach him. The first man to reach him swung his club and Mitigomij was able to block it with his own weapon. He then drove his knife straight up into the man’s left armpit. The victim’s blood started to run down his knife and arm before he could withdraw the blade. Then everything went dark.…

  Ojàwashkwà Animosh and I met with the Ouendat’s council. Their Chiefs, Ozàwà Onik (Yellow Arm), Asin (Stone), and Ogìshkimansì (Kingfisher), talked about trading with us. They also brought up the point of how they valued the Nipissing and us as allies. The biggest concern relayed to us was about the Haudenosaunee, now led by a younger chief, intent on raiding the enemy villages and removing the competition from their hunting grounds north of the big lake. They were pushing the Attiwandaronk from the south. In addition, the Petun also were feeling the wrath of these fierce raiders.

  These chiefs wanted to send warriors home with us, on the condition that the Nippissing and the Omàmiwinini would join forces with the Ouendat Na
tion to strike the Haudenosaunee from the northeast. While the main body of Ouendat, Petun and Attiwandaronk attacked from the northwest. The Ouendat were fearful that if the Haudenosaunee overran the tribes south of them they would be next to feel the wrath of their war clubs. The chiefs were of the opinion that if they struck first at the heart of the Haudenosaunee Nation from two different sides they could put their enemies on the defensive for a while.

  I then asked them, “How many warriors would you send home with us?”

  “One hundred and fifty, all young and strong,” Ozàwà Onik answered, “and I will lead them.”

  I directed my look to Ojàwashkwà Animosh, and he nodded his head saying, “The Nippissing will pledge one hundred warriors to this war party.”

  I then replied, “The Omàmiwinini will also contribute one hundred warriors, giving us a very formidable force to deal with our common enemy.”

  Within the next two days we finished our trading. During this period I turned down many offers for the wolf and small dog. Toward the end of the trading session, an Ouendat offered me six dogs and a boatload of tobacco and corn.

  “I am sorry,” I replied. “There is not enough trade goods to buy these animals. They are trustworthy companions, experienced hunters, and accomplished guard animals much too valuable to trade. They could never be replaced.”

  He nodded his head and said, “Mahingan, these dogs are special spirits and will protect you with their lives, leading you out of danger when the hour is at its most crucial point.”

  The last Ouendat who had tried to trade for the animals was a Shaman and his words carried immense weight with me.