Algonquin Spring Read online

Page 3


  The three strangers had just finished talking when the returning one screamed. I looked toward him and saw a knife protruding from his right leg. Then what looked like a child swinging a club at the man. The wounded man turned quickly and hit the little person with his shield with a bone-crunching sound. The recipient of the shield strike flew threw the air with blood flying from his head and landed in the river near the edge of the riverbank.

  Almost immediately, several warriors came hurtling to our position. With the nearest stranger to me distracted by what was in front of us, I reached for my knife and rushed up behind him, plunging the knife into the side of his neck. Blood immediately spurted from the wound. He turned and with a look of amazement in his eyes opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a gush of vomit and blood.

  Whale Bone grabbed one of man’s weapons and rushed the nearest stranger. The man heard footsteps behind him and turned, swinging the short-handled club with the blade on it. He caught Whale Bone in the ribs and I heard his bones breaking before his screams. Whale Bone dropped to the ground, badly wounded. The stranger then turned to meet the oncoming rush of bodies. The screaming of men, barking of dogs, and smashing of bones were deafening.

  I watched as one of the strangers hooked the leg of his attacker with the long axe-like weapon. He pulled the man off balance to him and then embedded a knife in the man’s eye. I reached down and grabbed the remaining weapon of the man I had killed. It was similar to the one used on Whale Bone. Grasping it, I was about to enter the battle when I heard a loud moan. Looking in the direction of the sound, I saw what I had originally thought was a child floating away in the river current, but still alive. I immediately waded in and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, dragging him ashore. He looked up at me thankfully and it was then I realized that he had all the features of an adult but not the size. His face was bloody and torn from where the shield had hit him.

  Seeing he was all right for now, I looked up to where the clash was taking place. I was stunned! Never had I ever seen so much blood from anything except a hunting kill.

  3

  MI’KMAQ

  Blood. The river and ground were red with it. Two of the warriors that had been skinning the bear were battling with the last remaining stranger, taking turns striking the man with stone clubs. The man was on his knees and every strike caused his blood to fly into the air. One warrior hit him. Then he would turn to face him, and the other would strike. His right arm was broken and useless; in his left he held a weapon but could not strike because he was so weak. Finally, one of the antagonists was able to strike the stranger in the back of the head. His skull cracked open like an acorn and he fell forward.

  The two young warriors stood motionless, covered with blood and gasping to catch their breath. When they quit panting, they inhaled and let out a cry, “Yo, yo, yo, yo.” It echoed throughout the river valley.

  I looked around. Whale Bone was dead, plus all the strangers and five of the native warriors. Some were missing heads, others arms. It was total mayhem.

  The young men quickly realized I was a friend. They motioned to me to collect what weapons I needed. I removed a quiver of arrows and bow from one of the strangers, plus a shield and one of the weapons that was similar to our axes but much more lethal. I had watched two of my people be slain with this weapon and concluded that I could make it work for me. The stranger had carried this weapon most of the time in his hand, but he also had a leather belt with an open-ended piece attached that the shaft of the weapon fit into. I took it also.

  The warriors looked at me, pointed to the bear, and said, “Mui’n.”

  I was able to understand some of their words with their sign. They wanted to finish skinning the bear. The animal was huge, and we set upon it with a nervous haste. It did not take long to separate the pelt from the meat. Then they took about two thirds of the animal, wrapped the meat in the pelt, tied it securely with vines, and went into the woods. There they walked to an old tree. One of the young men climbed up with a long vine. Once there, he tied one end to a branch and tossed the other end to the boy below. That one tied the bundle to it and his partner then hoisted it up. When it was firmly secured, the young warrior climbed down the tree and we went back to the river. There they retrieved the remaining meat and the front paws, wrapping it in a large deerskin.

  They then motioned for me to help with the burial of their friends.

  After I finished digging the graves with the two young warriors, I went and recovered the little person, who was still groggy, raised him onto my shoulders with his feet on either side of my neck, and followed the two warriors into the forest and toward my future fate.

  We walked at a quick pace in total silence. The only noise came from the rustling of the trees, the sound of our moccasined feet, our breathing, and the dogs panting. I think the only reason these dogs followed me was because of the kindness Whale Bone and I had shown them during the fish cleaning. In the sky I would hear the occasional crow or jay. As we progressed deeper into the woods, following a warrior’s trail, there appeared on the route more snow and ice that the sun had not yet been able to melt away, making the path very slippery. To keep from falling, I shuffled my feet on the glare ice and tried to keep my weight evenly distributed.

  However, on a small downhill turn, my left foot shot upwards over my head. Weapons flew, and down I came with a resounding thud. I landed on my left forearm and elbow, causing my head to snap back, but I was able to control it and keep it from cracking against the solid core of ice underneath my falling body. Everyone stopped and turned to look. The spear that I was carrying was hanging in a small tree and upon contact with the ground, some of the arrows in my quiver exploded into the surrounding landscape. The sudden impact of me hitting the ground, causing an impulsive wrenching of my neck, gave me an instant headache. I looked up to see everyone standing in stunned silence and then they all started to laugh. I think really the most comical part of it was when the Little Person came back and offered his hand to pull me up. He had fallen from my shoulders and skidded back onto the path, bowling over the white dog, both of them landing in a yelping, yelling tangle. It took me a few minutes to pick up everything strewn around on the ground and in the trees. The Little Person motioned that he would walk for the time being, and grabbing the scruff of the white dog for balance, we continued on our way.

  The sun began to drop below the tree line at about the same time as we were approaching a small stream. The two warriors motioned for us to stop. One of them started a fire. The other found a dead birch tree and made a cooking pot and cups with the bark, using pine gum to seal them with a vine strung through the pot for a handle.

  He filled the pot with water, threw some cedar leaves into it, and hung it over the fire from a forked stick he had shoved into the ground. The other young man cut a big chunk of bear meat and put it on a spit. He then cut off another two strips and threw them to the dogs.

  While they were doing this, I tended to the wounds of the little person. I dipped some moss into the boiling water and washed his wound. It was not deep, more of a huge scrape that had removed a lot of skin. The bleeding had stopped and I used the juice from some dandelions that I had picked and smeared it on the moss. Once I had covered the moss in the white juice, I dabbed it on the wound and then covered the wound with mud taken from the stream. This would help his wound to heal. I quickly made another boiling pot and threw some birch bark into it to boil. This tea would help my small friend’s head to clear; I was quite sure it was pounding from the force of the shield that had struck him.

  During the time I was tending to him, he asked me my name. My people call me Tall Man. He looked at me and smiled. Pointing at himself, he said his name, “Apistanéwj” (Marten).

  While we ate, I learned the names of the two young warriors. They were cousins. The taller one called himself Matues (Porcupine) and the short stocky one was E’s (Clam). They both still wore a covering of blood from the battle, but
neither had any wounds. They said this was their first battle and the reason they survived unscathed was that as youngsters they had always practised fighting with the other children back to back, always watching out for each other and each forever ready to come quickly to the aid of the other. When it was for real, they said it worked and saved their lives.

  E’s told me that Apistanéwj was a Puglatm’j (A Little Person). On this island, they lived in caves near the big waterfall. They had survived on this island for all time and were the guardians. They were tricksters and good hunters. They tried to avoid battle because of their size. However, if cornered, they would fight with extreme ferocity and cunning.

  The Mi’kmaq, which he and Matues were, sent their young warriors who were turning sixteen here for one purpose: to kill a mui’n and start their entrance into manhood. To get here they had to travel two to three days depending on wind, tides, and weather across the ocean from their home in Gespe’g. With them each year came one older matnaggewinu (warrior) plus the young matnaggewinu who had struck the first blow on the mui’n the preceding year. These men only came as guides for the crossing. They stayed with the canoes while the young warriors went into the island for the kill.

  “There is one other person who had always come on the trip,” Matues said. “We call her grandmother; she cooks and looks after everyone.”

  E’s then said, “When the mui’n is killed we always give an offering to the Puglatm’j for allowing us to hunt in their territory. They always send one young matnaggewinu to hunt with us, which was Apistanéwj. We keep enough to eat for the trip back and the front paws to prove we made the kill. All the participants divide the claws up among themselves. Thus, only eight young men receive the honour of selection for this rite of passage. That way each warrior gets a claw. If the bear hasn’t lost any, then the two that guided us also each get one.”

  “This hunt has presented many problems,” said Matues. “We have lost six brothers and have battled the Eli’tuat (Men with Beards).”

  “Some years,” said Matues, “no one returns. The ocean crossing claims them. It is a quest that holds many dangers. There have also been years when the mui’n has killed warriors, but it is rare when the Eli’tuat are encountered.”

  “Yes, Matues,” said E’s, “they were problems that are over. However, we have a big one now: Apistanéwj. We cannot leave him here because his people do not come to this side of the island and he is too frail to go back on his own. Their warrior always stayed with the offering that would have hung in the same tree since the pact was made between our two Nations. The Puglatm’j would then come a couple days after we left to collect both their hunter and the meat. This time, though, we could not leave him in the shape he was. That was why we hung the skin and meat in that tree, as our people have always done. The Eli’tuat will search for their hunting party in another day or two. Leaving Apistanéwj there would have been too dangerous in this situation. The Puglatm’j will stay hidden. They are no match for the Eli’tuat.”

  “Tall Man,” said E’s, “you will have to take over the responsibility for Apistanéwj. It is forbidden for the Mi’kmaq to bring one back to Gespe’g. However, you were the one who saved him, carried him out, and tended his wounds, so now you are his guardian until such time that he returns to Natigòsteg (Forward Land). In essence, it is you bringing him back, not us.”

  We decided that there was no need for anyone to stay awake for a watch tonight. Anyone who woke during the night was to tend the fire. Looking over at the two dogs, I chuckled to myself. There, curled up between them and fast asleep, was the Little One. I had trouble sleeping, homesick for my village, and now I was responsible for Apistanéwj. What next?

  4

  WATER VOYAGE

  Øysten looked toward the forest from their makeshift shore camp.

  “Visäte,” he said, “it has been a day and a half and our hunters are not back. They have probably had a successful hunt and are struggling to get back with the meat. Take some men, find them, and help them get back to camp. I have had enough of this barren island and want to head for home.”

  “Okay, Øysten, we will go, lighten their load, and return soon.”

  Two days later the searchers came back.

  “Øysten,” exclaimed Visäte, “our men were in a battle. There were no survivors and whoever killed them took all their weapons. We buried them there but without weaponry for them to take to Valhalla. All we hope is that Óðinn will take pity on them and know that they died in battle, but had no control over their weapons stolen after their deaths. Øysten, I must tell you, though, the whole time we were there burying our dead I felt we were being watched.”

  “We leave now; this is a place of bad omens!”

  Tall Man

  I had awakened several times during the night to keep the fire going. Finally, the warmth of the flames relaxed me enough for sleep to arrive, and I drifted off into my dreams. It seemed like I was only asleep for a couple of minutes when I awoke to the smell of boiling cedar tea and bear meat. After rising, I went into the forest. Finding a tree that had fallen, I was able to sit down and overhang my backside, relieving myself. After using some moss and leaves to clean up, I returned to our small camp.

  Everyone sat in silence drinking the hot brew to ward off the early morning chill. The bear meat was still very fresh, and whenever I took a bite, the juice dripped down my chin onto the ground, where the black dog licked up the minute drippings and then stood looking at me with great anticipation for more. I watched as Apistanéwj took a bite of his meat, chewed it, and reached into his mouth, taking a portion out and giving it to the white dog.

  After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, the two Mi’kmaq boys motioned for us to follow. It was still early spring and there was frost on the ground. Again, I would have to watch my footing and because of my height keep from hitting my head on low-slung branches. We maintained a quick pace, and Apistanéwj surprisingly was able to stay with us.

  I realized that this trek to the opposite shore and the Mi’kmaq boats was bringing me to safety; however, I was travelling farther away from my birthplace and my people.

  The trail became perilous from the iciness and the incline. The four of us had to make sure that we constantly shuffled our feet on the icy trail. Too much weight on a forward foot would cause us to lose our balance and possibly fall. We approached a small hill, and because of the hoarfrost, we had to walk along the side of the trail, where we could grasp the trees to keep our balance.

  Apistanéwj had no trouble keeping up to us since the pace was very slow, and whenever he thought he was about to slip, he would grab on to one of the dogs. He had named them Na’gweg (Day) and Tepgig (Night) from the Mi’kmaq language.

  At the crown of the hill, we stepped one by one back onto the footpath. E’s was the last to near the crest, and being a little too anxious to stay up with us, he stepped too soon from the safety of the trees. He was not quite at the top, and when he made his move to the path, he started to slide backward down the hill. Trying to stop his momentum, he turned sideways, but all that accomplished was spreading his legs until they stretched out as far as they could go. We all stood wide-eyed, anticipating his next move. Afraid that if he fell he would end up where he began, E’s steered himself in slow motion toward the side, until he was able to clasp a tree stopping his downward slide. E’s had ended up halfway down the hill. He had never shown any sign of panic, just a big smirk when he finally saved himself from further embarrassment. He looked up at us and started to laugh, and we all joined in as he made his way up. This time he did not cross over until he was well clear of the ridge.

  All he said was, “That was an odd feeling.”

  As we continued our walk, Apistanéwj astounded me by talking to me in my language. I asked him how he knew my tongue.

  “Tall Man,” he said, “my people know all and see all.” With that, he started to tell me about himself and his family group, all this without having to use any
sign language and with me understanding every word. Was this another sign from the Great Spirit?

  “Tall Man,” he said, “we have been here since the beginning of time. Our people came over from Mi’kmaq Land with the help of the Mi’kmaq animals. Migjigi (Turtle) and Giwnig (Otter) brought the men; the women were delivered on the wings of Gitpu (Eagle).”

  “The Creator then asked my people to be the Guardians of the Island, to watch over Mui’n and only take from Mui’n enough of his fur and meat to stay warm and to survive.

  “Wookwiss (Fox) and Apistanéwj (Marten) also came over on Migjigi’s back. However, there was no room for Lentug (Deer) and Tia’m (Moose). Mui’n had come to the Island many years before on the back of Bootup (Whale).

  “My people have always lived in the caves by the big waterfall. We became adept at fishing and hunting seals. We only hunted Mui’n in the fall when they were fat from summer foraging. We have never slain a Mui’n that had cubs with her.

  “After the Mi’kmaq first came to our shores, we made a pact with them. We allowed them to slay one male every spring. They were able to keep half the meat and the front paws. The pelt and everything else came back to us. They were happy with the agreement since it gave them a safe haven for their young warriors to prove themselves.

  “The Mi’kmaq, though, had earned this privilege and our respect because the first time that they came to the Island they stumbled upon a battle between my people and a band of Inuit. The Mi’kmaq took our side and drove off our attackers. They saved many Puglatm’j that day. The Inuit had come upon my great-grandfather and some hunters out in the open along one of the rivers as they were fishing. They had not posted any forward guards and the Inuit surprised them. The Mi’kmaq warriors came upon the battle shortly after it had begun. They were able to drive off the attackers, but not before my people had lost three warriors and one woman in battle.