Adventures of Radisson

by Fournier, Martin

  Conharassan was so happy that Orinha had returned, so proud of the scalps he had brought back, so pleased with the prisoner he wanted to give to Katari, so impressed with all the beaver pelts he would be able to trade with the Dutch, that she spent a passionate night by his side. For his part, he found her so gentle, so warm and sensual, that he was staggered by the love she still felt for him after so long apart. After the dangers and hardships of battle, how wonderful it felt to make love again! All the other warriors spent the night with the women who had been awaiting them, whether a lover or the mother of their children. Ganaha had an emotional reunion with Oreanoué, a young woman from the Wolf clan he was already in love with before he left.

  Very early the next morning, an elder from the village arrived at the head of around thirty valorous warriors and twenty-odd clan mothers. They came to acclaim the return of Kondaron and the members of his war party and broke into shouts of joy when they saw that rumours of a great victory were true. They spent a good few minutes congratulating, thanking, and praising the warriors and the spirits. The five prisoners were then untied to help slaves from the village carry part of the load. Apart from the odd tomahawk or knife, neither Kondaron nor his warriors had anything to carry at all.

  At each stop, Conharassan greased and combed Orinha’s hair. She fed him, fussed over him, and showered him with compliments. Ganaha’s beloved Oreanoué treated him equally well.

  Before they reached the village, Kondaron made certain that the chief and the thirty warriors who came out to meet them understood his decision: Maniska, the tallest prisoner, and the youngest Erie would all be spared. Messengers were sent ahead to announce the arrangements and defuse tensions, lest frustration in the village boil over. The three would escape the customary beating and be led under guard directly to the longhouses of the Tortoise and Bear clans.

  Now the stockade was in sight! Orinha could hear the villagers gathered outside the main gate shouting with joy, stamping their feet with impatience, feverishly waving their arms and brandishing their weapons. A feeling of immense satisfaction swept over him. One year earlier, the same villagers were waiting for him, baying for his blood, ready to beat him until he bled and make him pay for his crimes. They were all against him, everyone except for his dear parents!

  These same villagers now welcomed him back as a hero. They praised his victories and cheered his courage. Orinha felt as though he was about to burst from too much happiness and pride. He had managed to reverse what had seemed liked a hopeless situation. Now, his war chief was congratulating him, his sister thought the world of him, his older brother was unreservedly behind him, and his brothers in arms respected him. Better still, it was he who would decide whether Maniska lived or died. He could give her the most precious thing ever given to him: the gift of life, just like a god or a spirit. How proud he was!

  To the clamour of the villagers, the troop neared the stockade. The nine warriors had taken the lead, and came to a stop before the chief who had come out to meet them: the spoils of victory belonged to them and them alone. Their hour of glory had come. On the final steps of their journey, they strutted about as modestly as they could manage, holding or carrying their twenty-five scalps or displaying them at the end of a pole, their five prisoners tied to them on a leash. Orinha’s happiness knew no bounds when he saw his mother emerge from the crowd and walk straight up to him and Ganaha. Katari sang and leaped with joy as she saw her two sons home at last, hale, hearty, and victorious. Taking Orinha and Ganaha by the hand, she danced with both of them. Her sons then handed over their prisoner. Katari pulled the girl behind her, followed by the other two Erie captives whose lives would be spared. An impressive escort of twenty Iroquois shielded them from the throng. They quickly disappeared behind the bloodthirsty crowd, which now only had eyes for the two remaining prisoners.

  Tahonsiwa released the rope holding back his prisoner. “Save yourself, if you can!” he shouted at the terrified woman. Then, Deconissora shoved his prisoner forward, shouting, “Run, you rat! Now my brothers will avenge my wounds!” Blows rained down on the poor prisoners as they tried to inch their way forward. The Mississauga woman fell first, hit by a club that split open her skull. Half dead, she was dragged off to the torture stake. Her suffering did not last much longer. Meanwhile, the Erie prisoner managed, by some miracle, to weave his way through all the obstacles and into the village. It was to everybody’s great relief: torturing him would be all the more satisfying.

  The festivities continued inside the village, as the members of the war party distributed the rest of the spoils, under the supervision of the grand chief. Nearly every family in the Bear clan received a share of the smoke-cured meat and melted fat. Kondaron’s family, which was from the Tortoise clan, received some as well. Orinha gave a deerskin to Katari, another to his sister Assasné, and a second to Conharassan, whom he was eager to spoil. “And here is a scalp for each of you, to give you comfort for the sons and brothers you have lost,” he said solemnly. Ganaha gave a basket of corn taken from the Erie to his mother and fine jewels to his sisters. But the finest gift of all was reserved for Oreanoué: a goat-hair headband dyed in bright colours that he tied around the head of his beloved. The scalps he hung over his family’s section of the longhouse. Kondaron presented the grand chief with a magnificent sculpted Erie club. (His warriors had agreed to give Kondaron his own richly deserved share of the spoils, despite his protestations.) Then the other warriors handed out their own presents.

  Soon, the torture began. Orinha went along to watch, like all the members of the war party and nearly everyone who lived in the village. But he did not get involved, preferring the attentions of Conharassan.

  FEAST FOLLOWED FEAST over the next few days. Members of the Bear clan and the Tortoise clan took turns dancing around the scalps the warriors had brought back. The twenty-five victims claimed by Kondaron and his companions, not counting the victims whose scalps they were unable to bring back, continued to be a great source of admiration as they told anyone who would listen. Orinha was no exception; he related his exploits around fires that burned long into the night. Other warriors, back from fighting the powerful Susquehannocks to the south, or Hurons returned to their ancestral lands to the west, had their own tales to tell. But their victories were less clear-cut and therefore less impressive: those warriors returned home with only a handful of scalps and even fewer prisoners. The Susquehannocks had iron weaponry and firearms of their own, making them formidable opponents. Moreover, the former land of the Hurons was now almost deserted. Everyone now dreamed of going off to fight the Erie, to cover themselves in glory of their own. Orinha was invited to join the next campaign to these lands, which was already being planned. Flattered by the honour, he promised to return and spread terror among the Erie, as was his father’s wish.

  Speaking of his father, the only blot on Orinha’s happiness was Garagonké’s absence. He still had not returned. Orinha would have loved to tell him about his exploits, to see his eyes light up at his successes and hear his warm words of praise. But no one who’d gone off to fight the Algonquins and the French at the start of the summer had yet come back. No one had even heard from them. Orinha, so eager to please his father, was deeply disappointed. It weighed on his mind more often than he would have thought possible. Amid all the feasting, Garagonké was sorely missed.

  After a week, the village chiefs brought an end to the celebrations, which were upsetting preparations for winter and exhausting provisions. They held one last solemn assembly and handed out presents to honour the most deserving warriors. Kondaron received a brand new musket and a valuable wampum. Orinha, Ganaha, and two warriors who fought the Susquehannocks each received wampum. No other member of the party was so honoured, which filled Orinha with pride. Now he never removed his wampum, just like the village’s other proud warriors. Some of the more experienced men nicknamed him “dodcon,” meaning “dangerous spirit.” Some of them were even a little jealous. But many of the young wome
n looked at him with admiration. Orinha paid no heed to the men who envied him, but the thought of starting a family was becoming more and more appealing. He realized it would be the best way to ensure he had a future in the community.

  But first Orinha wanted to trade his beaver pelts with the Dutch. It was the height of the trading season— and high time for him to get involved. He had taken part in the beaver hunt with such enthusiasm that of the one hundred and seventy-five beaver pelts the war party brought back to the village, twenty-one belonged to him. Forty pelts were given to the mother of the Bear clan and another thirty to the mother of the Tortoise clan. The other warriors each received ten pelts, which they could trade as they saw fit with the Dutch.

  Orinha was in a hurry to add to the glory of the returning warriors and to own and hand out items from Europe, objects of desire in the village. He knew those objects well: he had used them every day when he lived with the French. He was sure that if he returned to the village laden with cloth, tools, weapons, and metal utensils, he would be able to win the heart of an Iroquois maiden and marry her. He knew now that he could not start a family with Conharassan. She was from the same clan and the Iroquois forbid lasting unions between men and women of the same clan. Despite his disappointment, he wanted to make the most of the interest he was arousing at the moment and find a woman from another clan whom he would be able to marry.

  “I can’t wait to go to Fort Orange,” he told Ganaha one morning, just as Ganaha was leaving once again to see his betrothed, Oreanoué, in the Wolf clan longhouse. “Let’s go now, before Iroquois from the other nations bag the best trades!”

  “Why the rush, dear brother?” Ganaha answered calmly. “Take the time to savour your victory. You will not always enjoy such high esteem. And don’t worry— the Dutch always have everything we could ever want.”

  “I’m looking forward to getting my hands on all the things my brothers and sisters would love to have. I want to bring them back lots of presents. Don’t you want to give Oreanoué the things she dreams of, just like I want to spoil my wife-to-be? Don’t you see that Katari can’t wait either? She’s worried things aren’t going to be ready in time for the winter. I’m telling you, now’s the time to go to Fort Orange.”

  “You’re wrong about Katari. It’s Garagonké she’s worried about.”

  “Exactly! We have to go before Garagonké comes back! Otherwise the celebrations will start up again and winter might sneak up on us. Let’s go now!”

  Neither Ganaha nor Orinha dared say what they really thought about Garagonké coming home. He was so late they feared that his campaign might have encountered serious trouble. Sometimes they even thought he might never come back: almost all the warriors who’d gone off to war were now back in the village. With Katari growing more anxious by the day, the situation was obviously not normal. And life had become less cheerful around the family fire.

  After thinking it over for a moment, Ganaha agreed with Orinha.

  “You’re right. There are lots of things I’d like to give to Oreanoué. Let’s prepare for our trade with the Dutch.”

  OF ALL THE BEAR CLAN, Otoniata had the most experience in trading with the Dutch. He began preparations, and the clan mothers told him what they needed: cloth and blankets, copper cooking pots, knives, needles, scraper irons, and lots of dried peas to add to the cornmeal reserves. The men had other priorities: iron tomahawks and knives, munitions, and firearms. Two days were all Orinha and Ganaha needed to get ready. To avoid tensions between clans and make negotiations with the Dutch easier, from the start Otoniata decided it would be best if only members of the Bear clan went with him to Fort Orange.

  The day before they left, an Iroquois who had gone to war against the Susquehannocks arrived at the village, panting for breath. He had been running non-stop for four days in search of help. On their way back, the Susquehannocks ambushed his group as they were nearing Iroquois territory and had lowered their guard. Their enemies killed two of the party, took one man prisoner, and seriously wounded five others, who could no longer walk. The Iroquois implored his brothers to come help the wounded right away and bring them back to the village. He also wanted to recruit a few warriors to give chase to the Susquehannocks and avenge their humiliating defeat.

  Kondaron agreed to go with him right away, at the very least to help the wounded. He helped him recruit warriors from his clan, then from the members of his campaign against the Erie. Katari was dead set against Ganaha and Orinha leaving for war again so long as Garagonké hadn’t returned and they still hadn’t gone to trade. Orinha was secretly delighted. He was so looking forward to making his long-held dream a reality: he was going to be able to trade at last! Ganaha gave in without a word of complaint, also happy at being able to stay with his beloved. Otasseté agreed to bring the injured back to the village, but refused to go off to war again. For his part, Tahonsiwa willingly joined the group of fourteen warriors who were going to set off after the Susquehannocks and avenge their defeated brothers. Consequently, fewer members of the Bear clan would be setting off to trade the next day. Otoniata would exchange the pelts the last-minute recruits had entrusted to him, along with those from the mothers from the Bear clan.

  The next morning, just before the eight members of the trading expedition left the village, more unsettling news reached them. An ambassador from the Iroquois nation of the Onondaga was on his way to announce to the Mohawks that peace talks were underway with the French. One of the ambassador’s chiefs had just returned from negotiations in the St. Lawrence Valley. He reported that, of all the Iroquois he met there, no one had seen Garagonké for many weeks. Katari was dismayed by the news. Ganaha and Orinha were worried. But in the face of so much uncertainty, it was best to proceed with the trading expedition as planned.

  CHAPTER 10

  SURPRISES

  AT RENSSELAERWYCK

  THE IROQUOIS WALKED for two days to reach the first Dutch village, where fewer than one hundred people lived. Otoniata, who knew the settlement well, marched straight into the first house he came to, as if he owned the place. He flung open the kitchen cupboard and grabbed all the food he could find. Then, with one swing of his arm, he flung a stack of wooden bowls and utensils to the floor, threatening the man of the house with his tomahawk when he tried to intervene. Cocksure, he then sat down at the table and started to eat, inviting his companions to do likewise. The other seven Iroquois then began to turn the house upside down for food, picking up whatever caught their eye as they went, leaving nothing in exchange. As though they didn’t already have enough to eat, they moved on to the next house to devour everything they could lay their hands on.

  Unhappy with what he found, Otoniata continued to fling objects, tools, and utensils to the floor to frighten the Dutch and impress his companions. Men, women, and children cowered in terror at the back of their homes. Even though they outnumbered the Iroquois one hundred to eight, they did not dare to attack these warriors, who were better armed and stronger than they were. Making himself right at home, Orinha helped himself to meat and vegetables from a huge cooking pot hanging over the fire. He bothered no one, and no one stood in his way. Life was simple when you were one of the strongest.

  When evening fell, Otoniata at last found what he was looking for: a jug of potent Dutch gin and a small keg of beer hidden under a bed. He cried out in triumph and he and two friends emptied the jug in no time. In frenzy, the three ransacked the house like madmen, fighting each other as they staggered around. Ganaha, Orinha, and the other three Iroquois drank only beer and wreaked less havoc. Orinha felt only a little light-headed and kept well out of the way. He looked on in surprise as the three men he had travelled with— Ganaha, Deconissora, and Thadodaho —pushed and shoved each other clumsily. He had never seen them like this before, even when they were starving with hunger, even when they were injured. Orinha wondered, “What malevolent spirit has taken hold of them? Have the Dutch cast an evil spell? What’s in this alcohol that makes them act lik
e this?” He resolved not to let another sip of beer pass his lips. He would keep his wits about him. But then his companions lay down on the floor one by one and were soon sleeping like logs. Thankfully, none of them had hurt themselves. Orinha lay down as well and quickly fell fast asleep.

  The next morning, long after the sun had risen, the eight Iroquois slowly gathered together their bundles of beaver pelts. Otoniata and his two drinking companions seemed slowly to be returning from another world. They looked crazed and uncoordinated. The others were faring better, particularly Orinha, who felt stronger and more alert than his companions. In the end, they stole only a few objects from the Dutch, leaving most things where they fell. Then, without saying a word, they departed for Fort Orange. Orinha led the way with Ganaha, who knew the route. In the evening, they stopped within sight of the smoke rising from the village of Rensselaerwyck. There, cannons protected the villagers and the substantial garrison housed in an impregnable structure: Fort Orange. Otoniata no longer felt like bragging and boasting, and decided to wait until the next day before making contact with the Dutch. His plan was to arrive early in the morning, going from house to house and trading with the villagers first. Then they would move on to Fort Orange, where the commander always welcomed them with open arms.

  AT DAWN, the Iroquois put on their war paint to impress the Dutch and strike a better bargain. As soon as they appeared at the edge of the woods, laden down with their heavy bundles of beaver pelts, the villagers came out to meet them. At this time of year, the Dutch were ready to drop whatever they were doing for a piece of the most lucrative business in the Americas: the fur trade. The pelts were worth their weight in gold for the merchants who sent them back to Europe, where they were turned into felt and luxury hats. Ten or twelve villagers were already jostling for favour, inviting the Iroquois into their houses. Some knew a few words of Iroquois, but most gestured wildly, their actions drowned in an incomprehensible flood of Dutch.