I Am Algonquin Page 7

  “Wàgosh, because they have no close relatives or village family unit left, you will be able to stay with us once you are married. All my brothers will be close at hand. That makes our band much more powerful. Our band still has other women who will be getting married, and they will bring in more warriors who will strengthen our family division.

  “Now, brother, I will send runners to the other villages to tell them that when we gather in another ten suns we will be having a marriage to celebrate along with the Minòkami Màwndwewehinge (late spring call together).

  “I will also arrange for the hunters to go out and provide for this great feast! We will have to make some more fish weirs and nets. There will be many mouths to feed. You make me very happy, brother. I will announce to the village that my brother Wàgosh will take a wife.”

  Now that the wedding had been announced, the couple had to choose four sponsors who were older, well-respected people. The sponsors gave the couple spiritual and marital guidance throughout their lifetime. During the ceremony the sponsors pledged to help the couple.

  Myself, I had taken on the responsibility of organizing the collection of food. I would have to send hunters out for wìyàs and kìgònz.

  The first thing that I built was another fish weir. I built it at the mouth of the small river that emptied into the Kitchi-Sìbì. I placed a row of stakes in the riverbed, and then cut new growth reeds and weaved them together, leaving enough space between the weaves for the small fish to escape. We always made sure that we took only the mature, larger fish and left the young to grow and restock. This weir would catch enough fish in two or three days of the pickerel run to feed all the guests. Our women would be kept busy cleaning and smoking the catch.

  The hunters would need to bring back at least twenty deer and lots of nika (geese) and shìshìb (duck) for the feast. For this job I asked Kàg and Mònz to look after obtaining the game. Since they would have to go far afield for the deer, Mitigomij would not be able to go with them. Instead he watched over the well-being of the village and took Esiban and Agwingos to the Kitchi-Sìbì to hunt geese and ducks.

  Young men usually looked to their uncles for direction on how to be trained on the art of hunting and warriorhood. Fathers also led their sons toward what they had to become skilled at, but with an uncle there was more of an understanding and urgency about the skills that had to be acquired. Algonquin children were very rarely disciplined; it would have had to be a serious offense for them to be punished. The environment that they were raised in was harsh enough without their parents handing out punishment. From the time that they began to walk, males were versed in the art of hunting and girls in the chores of a woman. Young males were always playing games that tested their endurance. Boys were given a bow and arrow at a very young age. They used these weapons to play games of accuracy and to hunt small game. Young girls were given tasks in the village such as getting water, gathering wood, and picking berries. When there were skins to be made into clothes, they helped with that task also. They were taught to clean game and smoke the meat. Men were responsible for supplying meat and defending the village. Women fed the family, raised the children, made clothing, and packed up the camp when it had to be moved. Therefore it was very important that the children learned their jobs at a very young age. They were also taught to share their food, clothing, and spoils of the hunt. From the time they were born, every day was a learning experience for all Algonquin children.

  Weddings were always a time of feasting, dancing, and renewing acquaintances with other family units. It was also a joyous occasion for the village because they would be acquiring another warrior and hunter. The wedding took place under an arbour or in a ceremonial lodge. The couple committed themselves to the Creator, Kitchi Manitou. There was no breaking the commitment. The person who married them was known as the pipe carrier. They had to show total commitment before he would perform the ceremony.

  Then the couple made a declaration that they wanted to be known as husband and wife. The pipe was lit and they smoked from it. Nasemà (tobacco) was then offered to and accepted by the pipe carrier.

  With the day of the wedding only a couple of suns away, the Algonquin family units of the Kitcisìpiriniwak were starting to come to our village to erect their lodges. Wàgosh and Kwìngwìshì were busy making their clothing for the ceremony. With the help of friends and family, they were also engrossed in making gifts for the giveaway.

  Once the ceremony was completed, the guests would all be invited to eat. First to eat would be the elders, then the pipe carrier, then the bride, groom, sponsors, and other guests. Any food that was not eaten would be given to the elders.

  All the guests that came would be given a gift. The gifts were laid out on hides and the people starting with the elders down to the children would come forward to receive a gift of their choosing.

  The joyful day commenced with the rising of the sun. Kwìngwìshì went down to the river to wash herself in order to be blessed by the spirit of the Earth. As the sun arrived at the top of the sky, the pipe carrier started the ceremony. Within minutes it was over and the drummers started. The guests started singing and dancing in honour of the married couple. The food was brought out and the festivities carried on. That night Wàgosh and Kwìngwìshì slept in a specially prepared lodge.

  With my wife Wàbananang at my side, we feasted and danced throughout the night. The fires were kept burning brightly and the guests told stories of past heroic deeds and ancestors forever gone. The weshki-

  nibawidjig (newlyweds) had long since retired to their wedding lodge.

  I was overcome with happiness that my brother had married and was lost in my thoughts as I watched the children play by the fires and the people drum and sing.

  Wàbananang then held me close and whispered in my ear, “I am àndjig-o (pregnant).”

  I turned and looked at her in the glow of the fire and kissed her on the forehead. “My wife, I am very happy. Life is very good!” I then started to feel the warmth of the fire and fell asleep in my wife’s arms.

  I awoke in the morning under the sky with a fur robe over me and my wife beside me. Standing over me was my brother Mitigomij with my wolf pup Ishkodewan licking my face.

  Mitigomij said, “Mahingan, we have company coming down the river. They are not Omàmiwinini, but they have shown no aggressive tactics. They camped on the small island across from our village last night. I observed at least fifty chìmàn (canoes) and of what I could see in the diminishing light of the evening they were mostly warriors. I think they are Nippissing!”

  16

  The Challenge

  “I DID NOT WAKE you Mahingan because they went right to the island and camped. I put all the other sentries on alert and told them to sound the alarm if they saw any movement from the island during the night. Because of the wàwìyeyano (full moon) and the cloudless sky, the island and waters in-between were well lit. If they had made any move during the night, the village would’ve been warned in ample time.”

  After Mitigomij’s warning, I proceeded to wake the camp. The wedding had drawn eleven family units to our village, totalling about four hundred and fifty men, women, and children, of which there were probably about one hundred and sixty warriors. The families were staying together all summer for protection and to hunt and fish. Since we had wintered here, we would not stay another winter because the fish and game would be stressed by this many people hunting here. My group would transfer to another spot during the winter. The next spring we would travel to a site that another family unit had wintered.

  Calling all the other family heads together, I told them that Mitigomij had observed a large party of Nippissing that had camped on the small island. I also told them about the small encounter that we had in the winter with the Nippissing warriors over the killing of the moose in their territory.

  “Fellow family heads and chiefs, I do not think that our enemies from the north have come to wage war on us, because if that was their plan, they wo
uldn’t be so obvious about their presence. I would imagine that they would send someone to talk to us soon. We will have to wait.”

  The other family units agreed with me that we should wait. The women brought us food. They had boiled us a meal of roots, kìgònz, and deer.

  Soon after we had eaten, one of the sentries came to the village and approached where we were eating.

  “Mahingan, Mitigomij says to come to the shore. Three chìmàn (canoes) have left the island and are approaching the shore.”

  With that, the group of leaders and I rose, grabbed our weapons, and left for the river.

  I told the sentry to alert the warriors, but they were not to make any approach to the river unless we sent for them.

  When we reached the river, the canoes were almost to the shore. Only one canoe approached and landed on the rocky shoreline. Three warriors were in the canoe, and they stepped onshore and approached. All were leaders and walked with no fear of us. One man was taller and more muscled than the others.

  In a deep voice he said, “I want to talk with the Omàmiwinini warrior who has lost part of his ear.”

  Stepping forward, I said, “I am that person. Who are you?”

  “They call me Mìgàdinàn-àndeg (War Crow). I am the chief of the South Nippissing Band. You and your hunting party killed two of my young men and severely wounded my nephew and another warrior.”

  “None of that would’ve happened if your young men hadn’t attacked us. We would have taken our kill and left.”

  “He said your name.”

  “I am Mahingan of the Kitcisìpiriniwak. I lead many warriors!”

  “Mahingan, I do not come to make war. Our tribes have always had small battles, and we remain enemies. We have never raided another’s village in our history. I do not want an all-out war, but I want to test my warrior’s skills against yours on the field!”

  “Mìgàdinàn-àndeg, what do you mean by the field?”

  “Pàgàdowewin (lacrosse)! We decide it on the field of pàgàdowewin!”

  “Accepted. We will meet in two suns. There is a clearing a short distance from here where we can play. We will need that many days to find the mitigwàbàk (hickory) to make sticks for all our warriors. We have some, but I do not know if all are equipped. On the third day as the sun rises, we will meet you on the field. Send one of your warriors to us and we will show him where the field is. In the meantime, you will be allowed to send one hunting party of five men ashore to hunt game today. I am sure you have nets to fish, and you are welcome to that. We have nearly one hundred and sixty warriors to play. And you?”

  “I have one hundred and fifty-four men with me. We are able.” I then said, “What do we play for?”

  “We play for hunting rights. If we win, you never come to our lands again. If you win, you are allowed to come only as far north from here where the battle of the moose took place. However, you will not win. We come prepared to teach you a lesson. Mahingan, you will feel the sting of the Nippissing skill on the field.”

  “We meet in three suns. We will play for two full days. The winner will be declared then. All injured players must leave the field. I will have the women build wàginogàns on the side of the field for the injured. During the two days before the competition, I will send out hunters also to bring in food for all competitors. We will play without break during daylight hours. If any warrior leaves the field during this time, they cannot return. We will each appoint one warrior to ensure this is adhered to. My brother Mitigomij will be our keeper.”

  “Mitigomij! A great warrior. Our people have heard of him. A good selection, he will be respected for his decisions. My choice will be my nephew who you almost killed. His name is Makadewà Kìkig (Black Sky). Until we meet in three suns, Mahingan, stay safe!”

  When the Nippissing left, I turned to my fellow chiefs and said, “We will have to send hunters out to search for enough game to feed everyone the two days of the contest. In addition, we have to obtain enough hickory to make sticks for everyone. Our village has a few, but not enough. We will also need anìb (elm) bark and wìskwey (sinew) to make netting for the sticks. I will send the young boys out to find tree knots to use for the piwàkwad (ball). They may be able to find ten or fifteen, but even though they are the best pieces to use, they break easily. With this in mind, I will ask the women to sew some hide balls. These are a lot more resilient, but they do not fly as far when thrown from the sticks. Our young boys will also be in command of finding lost balls and bringing in new ones when the playing balls have been lost or broken.”

  When enemies had quarrels that they wanted to

  settle without bloodshed, or another tribe had a dispute that they wanted resolved, they could challenge their foes to pàgàdowewin. Our people consider pàgàdowewin to be a gift from the Creator Kitchi Manitou and a struggle between good and evil. Victory was always controlled by the Creator Force. This enabled both sides to settle the dispute without war. The game itself was a war, but without death. It tested all of a warrior’s skills: running, agility, stamina, and bravery. When two foes played pàgàdowewin, they played for honour and to win at all costs. It was a battlefield with only sticks. No weapons were allowed. There were enough injuries as it was. An opponent was not allowed to hit another when he was down. A player could not hit the women or elders when they came out to take an injured player off the field,

  and they could not hit the young boys who looked after the balls.

  At sunset, both teams retired to opposite sides of the field. There they would find food prepared by the women and firewood and shelter. The women and elders would take injured warriors to the side of the field that was designated for them. There their Shamans would look after them.

  All our warriors looked forward to a game of pàgàdowewin. It is there and on a battlefield that they could prove their bravery and skill.

  17

  The Game

  IT WAS THE NIGHT before the game and all the warriors gathered around a large fire to eat. I could feel the excitement among the men. The two warrior women, Agwanìwon Ikwe and Kìnà Odenan, insisted on playing also. They were among the fastest runners of all the warriors and were ruthless when it came to warfare or pàgàdowewin. All the other family heads and myself decided that we would start with the fastest warriors in the forefront. In the middle of the field, I would lead the young warriors. At the back, we would have the slower and stronger warriors.

  During the day, Mìgàdinàn-àndeg and I had chosen two large boulders that took many men to move into position at both ends of the field. These rocks were to be the scoring posts. At both ends, an elder from each tribe sat to make the decisions on whether anyone scored. They then would be responsible to mark a blaze on a cut tree that the elders had positioned beside one of the rocks. There would be a specially marked tree for each team. When you stood at one end of the field you could barely see the other end, it was that far. The field was also as wide as it was long. There were trees, stumps, and bushes that the warriors would have to negotiate around during the game.

  The next day the oldest woman in the village came out to the middle of the field with the ball and laid it on the ground between Mìgàdinàn-àndeg and me. She then raised her hand in the air, and as I stood there in the field, I could feel the nervous sweat on my forehead. It seemed like an eternity before she yelled “go” and dropped her hand. With the sound of her voice, I swung my stick as hard as I could at the arm of Mìgàdinàn-àndeg. He blocked the swing with his stick and kicked the ball toward one of his warriors. With that, the game was on.

  I ran after the warrior who had scooped up the ball, and at full flight received a hip from another Nippissing that sent me flying. The fall had ended with me in a small bush, the air leaving my lungs with a whoosh. By the time I had risen to my feet the throng of warriors was running toward our rock.

  I watched as Mònz swung with all his might and caught the warrior who was carrying the ball square in the chest with his stick. The man drop
ped the ball and now Mònz had it. He ran directly up the middle of the field, knocking warriors out of the way with his hips and shoulders. At midfield, he tossed the piwàkwad to Kìnà Odenan. She snatched it out of the air with her stick and ran off. A Nippissing warrior charged her with his stick wavering over his head. Kìnà Odenan weaved by him. As she ran toward the rock, Agwanìwon Ikwe came to her side. Two Nippissing then tried to get her between them, but Agwanìwon Ikwe clubbed the first one across the forehead and the second one she kneecapped. This enabled her close friend to near the rock. With over thirty Nippissing warriors chasing her, she swung her stick with an overhead motion and the wooden piwàkwad hit the rock, shattering with a resounding thud. We had drawn first blood in many ways; Agwanìwon Ikwe had injured two warriors on the run and had set the tone for the rest of the day.

  The Nippissing warriors then received a new piwàkwad and the game continued. The piwàkwad carrier ran toward the centre of the field with at least forty warriors in front of him and behind him. The only way that we could get at him was to charge toward the horde of men running up the field. I led a rush of fifty players directly at the main body of the human wave coming toward us.

  We met them about midfield with a resounding crash of bodies, sticks, and blood-curdling yells. A huge warrior knocked me into the air and I hit the ground with such force, my back felt like it had been realigned. Lying on my flipside, I could see the blue sky and everything going in circles. I knew that if did not get up in an allotted time the gamekeepers would force me to leave the field. I staggered to my feet and took a deep breath. Nothing was hurt but my pride. I looked around and at least fourteen or fifteen of our warriors and almost as many of the Nippissing were lying bleeding from head wounds or were disabled enough from other injuries that most of them had to leave the field.