I Am Algonquin Page 16

  The Ouendat and Omàmiwinini were now only two days from Mahingan’s home. Ojàwashkwà Animosh had left the group when they had reached Lake Nippissing.

  On his departure Ojàwashkwà Animosh said, “Mahingan and Ozàwà Onik, I will arrive in five or six suns after you get to the village. With me will be a hundred of our best warriors, and we will be prepared to travel immediately after arriving.”

  That day when we put ashore there were still a couple of hours of daylight left. Kànikwe approached where Kàg and I were building a fire and told us that he and the two warrior women were going out to see if they could find some fresh game. With what Mònz and the twins, who were out in a canoe fishing, could catch, it would enable us to throw a feast for the Ouendat before we entered the village in the next day or so.

  Kàg and I carried on with our job after Kànikwe and the women left. The twins and Mònz came to shore a while later with three baskets of fish and a beaver. Everyone pitched in to gut and filet the fish, and skin the beaver for the cooking fires. The dogs and Ishkodewan received the heads to eat and the innards we put in a separate clay pot with roots and berries to make a soup. We impaled the beaver on a spit to roast. We then cut small branches and laid them in a pile. The branches we would then use to skewer the filleted fish and roast them over the fires.

  Just as dusk was approaching, Agwanìwon Ikwe called out from the trees, “We are coming in.”

  Kìnà Odenan and Kànikwe were carrying a deer on a pole between them, and I could see two extra men following them.

  “We welcome the three of you back to camp as successful hunters. I see though that you have brought back more than just an anìdjànìl (doe).”

  Once the group left the shadows of the forest and entered into the firelight, I could make out the face of Ajowà-Okiwan of the Nibachis Omàmiwinini tribe.

  He approached my brother and me with tears in his eyes. “Mahingan, I have terrible news.”

  The big cat laid beside Mitigomij, licking the warrior’s bloodied forehead.

  Mitigomij’s head and shoulder were throbbing with intense pain, and he could taste blood with a mixture of vomit in his mouth. He had no idea how much time had elapsed since his encounter with the Haudenosaunee warriors. His heart was beating mightily with a burning rage for this foe, and he felt a deep sadness for he could only guess what had happened to his village. Tears stung his eyes. Mitigomij looked around at his surroundings and realized he was in the small cave that he had raised the big cat in. The panther had returned the favour to him by saving his life and bringing him to the only sanctuary that the cat had ever known. The man had no recollection of what had transpired after he had passed out, but only knew that his constant companion had looked after him, as he himself had looked after the cat when it was young and vulnerable.

  Mitigomij thought that maybe only part of a day had transpired since his conflict with the Haudenosaunee. His wounds were still seeping, even though the panther had been licking them. Making his way to the cave entrance, he peered out into the night and felt a gush of cool air hit his face, bringing along with it the wonderful smells of the forest that awakened his senses. It also made him realize that he had failed his people in the defense of the village. The early summer fire had dispensed the Omàmiwinini people and prevented them from gathering for the rest of the warm weather and early fall months. This also brought the realization that even though the island was easily defensible, there were not enough warriors to protect against any type of concerted enemy action. The Haudenosaunee had picked their time well, and if they had a couple hundred warriors, they could devastate the scattered Omàmiwinini Nation. Knowing that whatever had transpired was now beyond his control, Mitigomij decided to attend to his wounds and rest. In the morning he and Makadewà Wàban would return to the carnage and wait for his brothers to return from the land of the Ouendat. Then the real bloodletting would begin, in earnest. Mahingan would gather what warriors he could and chase these intruders into the abyss of war.

  After coming into the camp we shared with the Ouendat, Ajowà Okiwan related to them what had transpired for the past month.

  Ajowà Okiwan and his people arrived about a half moon after we had left for the Ouendat Nation. With him, he had brought his family unit plus all the women, children, and elders of Pangì Shìshìb’s family unit of the Matàwackariniwak. Pangì Shìshìb and his warriors were travelling toward the west where the fire had burned, to see if there were any Omàmiwinini people, and if they needed help to come to the summer gathering.

  Ajowà Okiwan then told the gathered warriors, “Once we arrived in the village, the populace totalled about one hundred and seventy-five people, which included only about thirty-five warriors. After our arrival, Wàgosh and I decided that we must send out a couple of hunting parties. Each of us took five men, which left the village lightly defended, but the people needed food. Wàgosh took his men to the southern part of the island, and I headed to the main shore and then north with my hunting party.

  “We had been out four days and were very successful: two deer, several rabbits, and over forty waterfowl. Laden down with all the game that we had obtained, we were slow in returning to the river and our canoes. When we reached the Kitcisìpi where we had hidden our boats, we noticed a lot of smoke that was too widely dispersed to be cooking fires. It was early morning and the mist was just starting to burn off from the heat of the sun. Then we saw them. Haudenosaunee warriors! There were close to one hundred of them in their canoes leaving the village. Each of the boats had captive women and children in them, except for ten canoes that held only warriors. That group paddled up toward the rapids and then went ashore at the portage and continued north.

  “Mahingan, we were greatly outnumbered, and it was all that I could do to keep my men from firing on these boats as they continued downstream from us. A few of them could see wives, children, and sisters in the enemy canoes. Lying in the underbrush as they went by one man in a lead canoe stood out from the rest. The left side of his face and shoulder had deep scars, as if a bear had attacked him and torn his flesh away.

  “The main group, I knew would be heading to the south. However, I had suspicions about the other smaller breakaway group. I sent four of my men to trail them along the shoreline with instructions to stay out of sight. Kòkòkòhò (Owl) and I then jumped in a canoe and went to the village. There were no survivors. All the men were dead, killed in battle, or staked in the fires. The Haudenosaunee had done their job well. We then came for you and to strike my axe on the war post!”

  I could feel the blood leave my face. My knees weakened and my mouth dried up.

  Then I started to sing the Omàmiwinini death song for all who had died. After that I sang for my son, wife, and brothers. When I was done, I reached deep into my soul and cried out an ancient war song my father had taught me. By the time I had finished, the Ouendat and my Omàmiwinini warriors were gathering around me.

  I then turned and said at the top of my voice, “Ozàwà Onik, are you and your Ouendat warriors united with us to avenge our families’ deaths at the hands of the Haudenosaunee?”

  My answer came in one large crescendo of a throaty Ouendat whoop that echoed through the forest and across the river. If there were a man or beast within miles, this eerie sound crashing and tumbling through the air would send shudders through their bodies, causing their hair and skin to rise up in fright. Then they would hope that whoever originated this unworldly cry was not coming for them!

  “Light the fire! Tonight we raise the war post and strike it with our weapons,” I said. “In the morning we will be the hunters. Paint your faces and bodies and ask Kitchi Manitou for his protection or nothing less than a warrior’s death.”

  Into the night the warriors sang, danced, painted their bodies, and told tales of past battles fought.

  At first light me and Ozàwà Onik split the camp into two groups. They sent the twins along with one hundred Ouendat to take the supplies down the waterway to the village.
Once there they were to bury all the dead and to wait for their return.

  I also told the twins, “When Pangì Shìshìb and his people arrive, have him send some of his warriors south to the land of the Innu and Malecite, asking them to meet us at the big rapids where the two large rivers meet with all the warrior’s they can spare. There we will bring all our forces together to strike the Haudenosaunee in their villages to the south before winter settles in.”

  Ozàwà Onik and I then led the remaining fifty Ouendat warriors and ten Omàmiwinini warriors north to seek and hunt down the thirty Haudenosaunee who had broken off from the main party.

  I had sent Kànikwe and the two warrior women ahead of the main group to act as scouts. They then set out of camp on a trot, following a well-worn game and hunting trail that would enable them to cover twenty-five to thirty miles a day. Every two hours they stopped for a quick bite of food and water to sustain their strength and stamina. It had been two days since Ajowà Okiwan had said that the Haudenosaunee had attacked the village, and now they were on a collision course with Corn Dog and his warriors.

  28

  The Pursuit

  WE HAD RUN THROUGH the forest for the full day and had neared the Kitcisìpi River. Reaching the river, we encountered our scouts, Kànikwe, and the women, with one of Ajowà Okiwan’s men, Okanisì (Grosbeak).

  “Okanisì, what news do you bring?” asked Ajowà Okiwan.

  “We trailed the Haudenosaunee up the river as you asked us for two days. The enemy had come upon a small fishing party of Nippissing; we were in no position to warn them because our foes had reached the camp long before we knew it was there. Slowed down by the terrain, we came upon the skirmish not long after the event and just in time to see the Haudenosaunee celebrating. It had been a slaughter. The Nippissing only had six warriors that we could make out from our vantage point and the rest were women and children. It looked like they had been there to fish and hunt for a couple of days because there were not any permanent shelters, just lean-tos and drying racks for the fish they were catching. From our hiding spot, we watched as they loaded their captives and plunder into the canoes. All the boats were in the water except for two, when the men who were shoving off got struck down by a hail of arrows, followed by a group of Nippissing rushing out from the forest cover. The remaining warriors could push off, but not before the Nippissing had filled the two boats with arrows, killing or wounding the occupants. The other canoes escaped to the river out of range of the Nippissing bows.

  “When we came out of our hiding spot and approached the Nippissing, we realized it was Ojàwashkwà Animosh. We then told him what had happened to our people south of here on the island.

  “Ojàwashkwà Animosh had seventy warriors with him, and a young girl had told them of what had happened at this small camp. She had escaped during the initial attack and had run back toward the main village a few miles away. She was his niece and all the people in the camp were his relatives who had come here to fish for several days.

  “Ojàwashkwà Animosh and his men along with our three warriors were following the Haudenosaunee down the river and keeping out of sight. There will be very little they can do because they had no boats enabling them to chase the enemy. The Haudenosaunee will just camp on the islands and not come to shore knowing full well they can’t be attacked as they travel downstream and take their portages on the east side of the river.”

  “Okanisì,” I said, “We need you to go back to Ojàwashkwà Animosh and ask him and his men to try and keep up with the enemy. When they get close enough to them, they are to come out into the open, showing themselves to the enemy, forcing our foe to speed up. When this happens, he can let them think they are out distancing them. We need the Haudenosaunee to think that their only danger is behind them and not ahead. Once they think they have put enough of a gap between the two bodies of warriors their leader will relax. There will be no reason for them to panic, because they will think that they have outdistanced Ojàwashkwà Animosh and his men, and they know that they destroyed the village. With all the risk gone, they should then take the easier portage on the island where we will be waiting with over two hundred Ouendat and Omàmiwinini warriors and another seventy Nippissing warriors closing in behind.

  “Go now, Okanisì, and tell Ojàwashkwà Animosh this plan. We will turn back to our village and lay the trap. This enemy force has one day left to live, and then we will turn our attention to the Scarred One.”

  It was always the strategy of any attacking force to strike from ambush. A successful surprise assault always limited casualties and increased the enemies’ loss of life. Very rarely did two opposing forces meet in open battle. The risk of an immense loss of life heightened in head-to-head battle. Ambushes were much more successful.

  Mahingan, Ozàwà Onik, and Ajowà Okiwan called their men together and relayed the plan. They now had to hurry to the village and gather the rest of the Ouendat and the twins. The island had to look uninhabited. The rapids there were too dangerous to navigate, and they did not want them to be spooked, land on the eastern shore and disappear into the wilderness.

  Me and my group reached the island early the next morning. The twins, Makwa and Wàbek, relayed to us that all the men, old women, and elders were murdered. The Haudenosaunee had put most of the heads on stakes and then threw several of the bodies into the fires. All the remains that they found, they buried. There had been no sign of Mitigomij, Wàgosh, Wàbananang, or Anokì.

  Tears welled up in my eyes, my heart ready to burst. “Ishkodewan, small dog, come.” I had a hunch that my wife and child had hidden and I needed these two animals to help in the search.

  “Ajowà Okiwan and Ozàwà Onik, prepare the warriors and hide all the canoes. I will be back. The enemy will have to portage up from the village at the far northern end of the island.”

  The wolf, dog, twins, and I then took off at a trot to search for my family. A few spots quickly came to my mind that my wife might use as a hiding spot.

  “Ishkodewan, find Anokì!”

  At that command, the wolf shot into the lead, followed closely by the small dog. In a matter of minutes we reached a grove of cedars and a rockslide where the wolf started to howl and move toward the rocks. Subsequently we heard the sound of barking from within the rockslide. Then the red dog emerged from a small opening and barked a welcome to his friends. Following the animal’s lead, the twins and I reached the opening. Upon peeking in, we caught sight of my son nestled up to the white dog sound asleep. As I reached in and took hold of my son, a great sense of relief overtook my body. I then reached into his pouch and took out some dried meat for the boy, then gave him some water from my clay flask. Anokì never said a word, he just looked up and hugged me. But where was my precious wife Wàbananang? Why would she leave her son here alone? My body then began to shake and tears streamed down my face. Was she dead, captured, or burnt in the fires? My life would never be the same without her. She was my rock. Embracing my son, I dropped to my knees and sobbed uncontrollably. My nephews stood by, dumbfounded. They had never seen me so vulnerable like this. Silently they walked up to me and embraced the man they looked up to as a leader and protector. Now was the time for them to show me that I was not alone and that they cared.

  I put my son down. I told him that I would have to leave him here with the wolf and dogs and that I would come back for him later. The boy nodded and crawled back into the small opening followed by the white dog. Then Ishkodewan and the other two dogs lay down outside the entrance.

  Turning to the twins I said, “Come. We have to go back to the river. There is something we have to finish.”

  Returning toward the village, we searched for any sign of my wife. It wasn’t until they were almost back to the community that we came upon a pool of blood. Upon closer inspection of the area, I found Wàbananang’s bloodied skinning knife. Nevertheless, this did not supply me with the answer I was seeking: was she alive or dead? The amount of blood in the vicinity clearly pointed
out that a fatality had taken place here. Seeing the drag marks of a body caused my skin to go clammy and a chill run through my bones. I summarized my wife had died there defending her child’s hiding place and they had dragged her corpse to the fires. Tears welled in my eyes until my sight blurred.

  Bringing myself back to my senses, I called out to the twins.

  “Let’s continue.”

  Travelling along the path to the portage, we could see no sign of anyone, until out of thin air Ozàwà Onik appeared and startled us.

  “My friend, the warriors are well hidden. Even the twins and I could not find them!”

  Laughing, Ozàwà Onik said, “Wasn’t that the plan?”

  “Did you find your wife and son?”

  “Not my wife, but thanks be to Kitchi Manitou I found my son. Anokì, by the bravery of his mother, spared him certain capture. He is well and protected now by a very loyal pack of dogs and their equally devoted wolf companion. He will be well cared for until my return.”

  “Ajowà Okiwan and I have all the warriors positioned. A runner arrived from Ojàwashkwà Animosh saying that the Haudenosaunee would arrive late in the afternoon. Ojàwashkwà Animosh said he would be leaving enough men to follow at the rear of the enemy, making them believe that there was a full force behind. He added that his main force would be arriving ahead of the enemy and would conceal themselves above the rapids to prevent any escape to the land on the west bank.”