I Am Algonquin Page 17

  The afternoon dragged on with the warriors shielded from the heat of the day in their hiding places, having to contend with a steady onslaught of stinging insects. We could not risk building smudge fires, so we made do with their goldenseal and bear grease mixtures. Toward the late afternoon Ojàwashkwà Animosh swam the river and told us that his men were in place, along with the news that the Haudenosaunee were very close.

  Communicating down the line in whispers, the men had to let the first three canoes land without incident; we needed the enemy to suspect nothing out of the ordinary.

  Just as the sun was approaching the tops of the tall pines, we heard the sound of canoes and men coming down the river. The only nervousness from the group was from the rear canoes as we kept looking back for Ojàwashkwà Animosh’s men.

  In the distance we could hear the sounds of jays and crows warning of the approaching men. This scared a flock of geese from the water; as they were lifting off a few of the warriors brought down three of the birds. Two of the canoes broke off to pick up the fowl and simultaneously the first boat glided into the portage landing.

  Corn Dog was hurrying his men toward the portage. The attack on the Nippissing had reaped them a few women and children but cost him one warrior during the initial conflict and six more during the surprise attack as they were departing onto the river. The speed of their canoes and the current of the river enabled them to stay ahead of their pursuers, but this portage was critical. They would have to complete it with the utmost urgency and paddle through the night with torches to try to gain a distance advantage. He figured they were outnumbered two or three to one, but they had the advantage of the river.

  Corn Dog watched as the first three of his eight boats landed. Just as he was approaching shore, he caught the glimpse of a small movement in the trees.

  “Ambush!” he screamed at the top of his voice.

  As soon as the words left his mouth he heard a crack like a frozen tree in the winter, he watched as the man in front of him had his cheek explode in a gush of blood.

  “Slingshot,” he muttered to himself.

  When he turned to look toward the initial noise, he watched as the other warrior’s left eye burst from its socket; both men lurched to one side in death spasms causing the canoe to tip over and spill him into the water. As he hit the churning river, he could hear the sound of a panther’s scream, sending chills through his body.

  From his hiding place, I could see the fear on the Haudenosaunee warriors’ faces as they looked toward the sound of the cat’s screams. I had a smile on my face knowing Mitigomij was alive. My brother had killed two men in lightning succession.

  The signal was given and two hundred warriors screamed from the woods, letting loose their arrows in a volley of death. It caught the enemy by surprise, but the initial alarm had enabled the two boats that were gathering the geese to escape toward the east shore and out of the reach of Ojàwashkwà Animosh and his men’s arrows. During their flight, I noticed that they assisted one of their own from the river. I motioned to Ozàwà Onik and pointed out to the river at the fleeing canoes. Immediately he and about twelve of his warriors launched four canoes to try to capture them.

  Ojàwashkwà Animosh and some of his men were swimming out to the canoes to aid in the rescue of their people who were captives. Miraculously, they had all survived; once the onslaught had started the captives had lain down in their boats to protect themselves from the arrows. Most of them were in the water, as the boats they were in had tipped over during the battle. The river was running red with blood from the dead. On the shore, the Ouendat had captured three unfortunate warriors who were now singing their death songs.

  The Ouendat took the three men into the forest to get information from them to help find the rest of the war party that had destroyed the village.

  Kàg, Mònz, and I approached Mitigomij and embraced him.

  “Have you seen Wàgosh?” he asked.

  Kàg answered, “No, but his body hasn’t been discovered either.”

  As Corn Dog surfaced from the water in a hail of arrows and gasping for air, he turned his attention toward reaching the eastern bank of the river. It would be his only chance of escape. Taking a deep breath of air, he dove under the water to stay hidden from the archers on shore. Swimming until he felt his lungs would burst, he resurfaced beyond the range of their bows and started to swim on the surface. He was still a few hundred yards from shore when the sound of men straining and paddles striking the water echoed behind him. Without breaking his swimming rhythm, he turned his head and saw two canoes of his men pulling along side him. He grabbed the back of one of the boats and held on as his men exerted themselves to escape to the shore. Kicking with his feet to try and not be an encumbrance to the paddlers, he took a quick glance behind. What he saw made an acid reflux reaction in his throat. Four canoes! And they were coming fast! His legs started to weaken in fear; death was near unless his men and he could reach the shore.

  Ozàwà Onik and his warriors were closing in fast on the two canoes ahead. He caught a glimpse of one man in the water hanging on to the last boat and kicking furiously. If their enemy reached the shore ahead of them, they would have the advantage of high ground and concealment. Sweat glistened on his body as his muscles burnt to the strain of the chase. Water and perspiration covered his arms and hands, making it difficult at times to hold on to the paddle. His force numbered twelve and he counted five in the boats and one in the water. The one boat with the man in the river had three paddlers and was at least a hundred feet ahead of the other. He knew that his men would overtake the trailing vessel.

  The lead Haudenosaunee boat had reached the shore as Ozàwà Onik and his men pulled two abreast to the other boat. The pair in the enemy boat stood and swung their war clubs at their foes and in the short battle that ensued fell under a hail of blows from their opponents’ axes. Both slid into the water and their canoe drifted away with the current toward the distant rapids. The warriors who had made the shore turned and shot one volley of arrows. Two of the projectiles fell harmlessly into the river and the other embedded itself in the bow of Ozàwà Onik’s boat with a thud. Ozàwà Onik looked toward shore and the men where disappearing into the pine and white birch forest.

  “Leave them,” he said. “They are more bother than they are worth. They are far from home, and we may still have our way with them before the next two moons are done!”

  Kàg and Mònz held out hope that their wives Kine-bigokesì and Mànabìsì had survived the attack and were captives. They knew the enemy would have not taken Wàgosh’s wife, Kwìngwìshì, because of her pregnancy. They would slay her in the village; a pregnant woman slows down a retreating force.

  That night we could hear the screams of the three enemy warriors as the Ouendat tried to obtain information from them. The Ouendat promised them that when they got the information they needed, they would die an honourable warrior’s death. No more torture.

  We had decided that our band of warriors would leave by the early morning if we had any hope of catching this large retreating force. There was almost a four-day gap between our foe and us, but we would be travelling light and fast. We sent out an advance guard of thirty men to hunt out the Haudenosaunee. It was a five-day warrior’s journey to the rapids, but the enemy would probably take seven and possibly wait one or two days for their trailing force. We had to do this journey in four days to try to catch them before they entered their territory. Our hopes were also with our runners, hoping that they could find the Malecite and Innu.

  After the battle had ended, Kànikwe and the warrior women had gone out looking for Wàgosh.

  During this time, I searched out Nìjamik, the elder who had travelled to the Ouendat land with us.

  “Nìjamik, I am going to give you my son Anokì and the two dogs that were with him. I need you to care for him until my return, whenever that may be.”

  “I will be honoured to look after your son Mahingan,” he replied.

&n
bsp; Then I called Mikkwì (Blood), Kinòz-i Ininì, and the two twins to a meeting.

  “The four of you will be responsible for Mitigomij at all the portages. You will have to carry him in a litter. He will not like it, but he will understand the reasoning behind it. Mitigomij wants to come on this war party, so we will respect his wishes and the four of you will now be able to pay him back for all the training he has given you over the years. The twins will be in the same canoe as their uncle and the big cat. You other two will ride with the wolf and me.”

  In unison they all said that they would accept the responsibility that I handed them.

  As the camp was starting to stir in the early morning and the cooking fires brought to flame, the men heard an honour song from far south of the camp. Kànikwe and the warrior women were entering the camp with a travois. On it was the body of Wàgosh!

  “Mahingan, we found him in a ravine under a pine tree. He had tried to nurse his wounds, but he bled to death. It was a warrior’s death, and we are sorry to bring you his cold body,” said Kànikwe.

  “A brother, a sister-in-law, and a wife had been killed in this raid. The Scarred One will pay dearly for this,” I whispered to no one and everyone.

  We buried our brother on the island beside his wife. After the burial, the combined force of over two hundred and fifty Ouendat, Nippissing, and Omàmiwinini prepared to leave. We left the word with Nìjamik to inform Pangì Shìshìb and Minowez-I to follow behind the war party with what warriors they could spare.

  Once we were on the river, I looked back to the island. Little did I know that it would be over three hundred years before the Omàmiwinini would again have a village there. Then, when that happened, the island and the village would be under the protection of over four hundred of the best Algonquin warriors in the Nation, under the leadership of one of his great grandchildren, Tessouat.

  Now I was travelling with the greatest force of warriors ever gathered in the history of the Allied Nations, for an attack to the south on the Haudenosaunee. My world had been turned upside down, and I had been given no time to grieve. My anguish was contained to my heart, mind, and soul, with revenge the only answer that could possibly soothe the pain of the tremendous loss of my family members. The loss of my wife and brother was devastating. I felt like I was going to be physically sick. This was a heart scar that would never heal.

  Panther Scar, his warriors, and captives had been on the river for four days, and they were starting to think about the comforts of their village. Their people had always been under the thumb of the stronger Omàmiwinini to the north. In the past few years, some of the tribes that had always been at war with each other were now starting to realize that it would be to their advantage to form alliances to stand strong against these northern enemies. The Ouendat and their allies, the Nippissing, Innu, Malecite, and Algonquin, were a formidable force. Since this loose confederacy had formed, there were now enough warriors to raid north of the big lake and inflict casualties on the foes of the Haudenosaunee.

  Panther Scar’s people were a powerful military force and every young man’s duty was to train as a warrior. The Haudenosaunee were continually at war with one or more of their enemies and at times among themselves.

  Panther Scar was from the Wolf Clan (Okwàho). Under Haudenosaunee law, clan mothers chose candidates as their chiefs. The women controlled ownership of the homes and had a veto power over council decisions. The position of the Clan Mothers was hereditary. As a chief appointed by a Clan Mother, Panther Scar answered to her and only she and death could take his chief’s antlers away.

  The Ouendat, Nippissing, and Omàmiwinini to the north were fierce warriors and always had been dangerous enemies. On the north side of the big lake there was a huge buffer zone between the Haudenosaunee and these Nations. All Natives hunted in these lands, but none took up residence here. No one would risk living in this area because of the close proximity to each other. Only death and destruction would be the outcome of that endeavour.

  Ten years ago Panther Scar and three of his friends decided they would earn their place around the council fire by raiding to the north in the land of the Omàmiwinini. Their plan was to ambush a small band out fishing or a lone hunter or two. However, what started out to be a quick hit and run by Panther Scar and his friends turned out to be a nightmare.

  Panther Scar had heard stories of shapeshifters from his elders but had never seen or experienced one first hand until that day ten springs ago.

  Panther Scar and his three companions had been following a small stream that was teeming with suckers. Lingering behind the others by twenty or so feet, because he had stopped to relieve himself, the group had come about a stretch of the stream where they saw a lone man fishing on the opposite bank. Without any thought, the first man, Grouse Feather, charged through the water to make the kill. What followed was like a fast moving storm, everything happened so fast. Grouse Feather dropped halfway across the stream with a spear protruding through the back of his neck. Little Bird and He Who Walks Tall reached the bank at the same time. Here a black monster of a cat tore Little Bird to shreds. At the same time, furious club blows were pummelling the other friend, He Who Walks Tall by a lame youth with battle skills unlike anything Panther Scar had ever seen. When his companions had started their attack, he had still been trying to catch up. He had made the stream with water up to his knees and the black monster of a cat charging him. As the cat ran toward him, the river, the birds singing, all seemed to be in slow motion. He thought, “Is this what it is like before death?” He watched as the animal bounded through the stream at him. Every time that the beast hit the river, water splashed over its heavily muscled body. He dropped his club and fumbled for an arrow but the demon was upon him, and with one swipe of its enormous paw the animal tore the skin from his face and shoulder. At first, there was no pain, only shock. Then Mitigomij called off the cat and told Panther Scar to leave with his life. The enemy warrior just stood there listening to the cat scream, all the time watching the blood of him and his friends wash around his legs.

  The cat turned and walked away with the lame one and they disappeared into the woods. As far as he was concerned that day, he had encountered Michabo the trickster god and the inventor of fishing. The creature had to be Gichi-Anami’e-bizhiw. No other explanation would ever convince him otherwise at that moment in time. Standing there, the shock started to wear off, followed by sudden and intense pain. He knew that he had to find a beehive to treat his wounds or the infection and loss of blood would kill him.

  It took many days for him to make it back to his village in a near death state. The Shaman saved Panther Scar’s life once he arrived home, but there would be hideous physical scars. Once he was well enough to tell his story, the council and his father believed him to be a coward. They questioned him as to why he lived and his friends died. He had to have run. An enemy would never grant their foe life. Panther Scar was lying according to the chiefs. They banished him until he could prove he deserved to be a Haudenosaunee warrior.

  For the next ten years he raided to the south against their enemies, doing it on his own to try to regain the trust of his father and the council. Many enemy warriors had met their death on these forays.

  Finally, after many years, younger warriors started to join with him on the warpath. Corn Dog was one of the first. It became a known fact that if young warriors wanted to prove themselves that they could follow the scarred one.

  Panther Scar became indebted to Corn Dog. This great friend hunted and raided with him and proved to the other young men that Panther Scar was not a coward or bad luck. Soon the two of them had over twenty warriors at their disposal.

  Then something happened that changed the thinking of the Clan Mothers and council. His people captured a couple of Algonquin warriors who told them that Panther Scar’s adversary that fateful day had been Mitigomij and his panther Makadewà Wàban. They also told Panther Scar’s people that Mitigomij spared his life that day. Now his peopl
e realized that it was not cowardice that had saved his life. Nevertheless, Panther Scar still believed that this entity and his animal were shapeshifters.

  His men had slain many Algonquins on this war trail, but again the Shapeshifter had eluded him, killing exceptional warriors in the process. Panther Scar owed this demon his life, but he still wanted to slay him, for the pain, disfigurement, and the shunning of his people toward him. He was now a warrior who gave no quarter and killed his enemies with a euphoric pleasure. He often wondered that when his time came, would there be pain or would it be a sudden exhilarated release from what he had become?

  It would only be a couple of days until Panther Scar reached the big rapids, then another day to the river (Richelieu) that would take them to the safety of their home. The captives had resigned themselves to their destinies and were no longer wailing and calling for their sons and husbands. The young boys captured would become Haudenosaunee warriors, replacing the men who had died in this battle. They had raided with over one hundred and twenty warriors, but had lost eleven men in the battle and twice as many had suffered wounds. With Corn Dog and his men away, Panther Scar was down to less than sixty-five able-bodied warriors to propel the boats and to look after the wounded and captives.

  The sky was crystal blue. The sun was shining brightly, reflecting off the river and causing everyone in the boats to glow with the sweat and the water that they tossed on their bodies to keep cool. The only sounds heard were the paddles in the water and a pair of màng (loons) calling out to each other.

  As soon as they landed at the portage, Panther Scar instructed several of his men to obtain some fish and waterfowl. Others he sent into the forest to hunt for game. After setting up guards around the camp, three warriors travelled back up the river to see if anyone was following. Panther Scar was still worried about the lack of warriors in the village they had attacked; there should have been another twenty or thirty. If he were right in his concern, they would be relentless in pursuit, unless Corn Dog came upon them and alleviated the problem. His friend Corn Dog was brash, trustworthy, and always wanting to prove himself a great friend and warrior.