Chapter 9
It was the day before the big feast that was to be held at the Nashitosh tribal fire. The cool air of autumn was setting in along the lake. All the preparations were set and the tribe readied themselves for their eventual departure to their homeland on the Cane River. Spirits were high and smiles were on all faces.
Natchitos found some time to go hunting with his youngest son, Nule, now just over eleven years of age. Nule had learned well the art of hunting small game with hand darts, and was also quite adept at fishing. Today, Natchitos wanted to test Nule’s skill with the bow and arrow. They crept slowly through the forest, one step at a time. “Listen to what you hear, son,” Natchitos spoke softly. “Listen beyond the wind in the trees. Any sound of a deer can be alerted by the scamper of a rabbit or a call from a bird, even a snap of a twig. Stay low and listen.” Nule looked everywhere impatiently.
“We must stay on the downside of the wind, so we are not detected. Let us move this way, slowly.” Nule followed his father. Suddenly he froze and Nule gasped in surprise. Natchitos turned and put a finger to his lips, then pointed just ahead to their right. Nule’s eyes grew large. No more than thirty feet away was the large rack of a male buck moving around. The deer was quietly eating from the forest floor. Natchitos allowed Nule to proceed towards him as quietly as he could. “You be the guide for the arrow, Nule. Take a deep breath and let your instincts come forth.”
Nule took out his bow and arrows and steadied one on the bow. He looked back at his father. He nodded for him to proceed. Natchitos sat low to stay out of sight. Nule slowly crept forward to close the distance between him and the deer. Natchitos admired his stealth as a small grin spread upon his face. The deer continued eating unaware of them. Nule found his place and then readied his weapon. He was now ready to take his shot. He put the deer in his sights and pulled back on the bow. The large buck lifted his head in suspicion. The deer spotted the hunter and jumped as soon as it heard the arrow being released. But it was too late. Nule struck the deer with a direct hit to the lower chest. Then another arrow quickly hit the flailing deer. The buck scrambled and staggered on its feet and disappeared into the thick brush.
“Father, I think I hit him, but he ran away!” Nule said excitedly.
“Yes Nule, you did indeed!” Natchitos said with equal excitement. “Now, you must continue to track him. Quickly now, go and find his trail.”
Nule quickly found droplets of blood on the plants and on the ground and followed them through the woods for what seemed like hours to him. At last in the dense brush he spotted the antlers of the large buck. The large buck was lying motionless on the ground. Nule instinctively approached the deer slowly. “Look at his belly,” Natchitos said softly. “It is no longer breathing.” He knelt down beside Nule, who stood proudly, and he hugged him. “You are now on the path of becoming a warrior. I am very happy to see this. You are the hunter and you have succeeded.”
Nule beamed with pride as he looked down at the deer and then back at his father. “Father, are we to go back to our lands now? Tell me more about them, Father.”
They sat together on the forest floor. Natchitos looked at his son and said, “You were the last to be born in our lands. And, I am now happy to tell you that you will dwell there once again. One day, you will carry the fire of the Nashitosh. I see the eye of a warrior in you, but I also see the eye of wisdom in you. This is the wisdom of a leader, and it is good to see.” He patted Nule on his head. He continued, “Our lands are beautiful and green with fertile soil and many animals to hunt. The river is calm and it is a cool place in the summer months. My wish for you is to watch your sons hunt in the forests of our lands.”
They stood and pulled the deer onto a tarp made of tough hide, to drag it out of the thick brush and into a clearing. It was very heavy and difficult to drag out of the forest. It took both of them to pull the weight of the deer. Natchitos laughed while they labored with the deer, “You had to shoot the biggest one, didn’t you?”
The day of the big feast arrived. St. Denis, Governor Cadillac, and a few other high ranking officials set out with a small company of soldiers in three rafts down the bayou towards Lake Pontchartrain.
LaRouche slipped out of the fort soon after the men had left for the tribal areas. He walked ahead to the edge of the great river toward the rafts and canoes. He untied a small canoe and crawled in as quietly as he could and paddled his way upriver to the next bayou. He paddled through the murky waters, looking all around to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He paddled until he knew he was about a half mile from the lakeside. He pulled the canoe ashore and set out the rest of the way on foot.
St. Denis and the other men soon arrived at the lake on their rafts and walked towards the Nashitosh village. As the sun set, Chief Red Hawk and the Acolapissa chanted as they walked into the village of the Nashitosh. Drummers and yells of celebration could be heard at the fire. Torches were lit all around the village and the women put the final preparations on the feast. All gathered around the huge bonfire that was prepared in the center of the village. Natchitos passed the ceremonial drink over to Chief Red Hawk and they drank together. The feast had begun and the food was abundant. They ate deer, lamb, rabbit, and cow. Bread was passed and fresh water was plentiful all around. The dancers performed near the bonfire to the chants of the women with noise shakers in their hands and to the beat of the tribal drummers.
Meanwhile, under cover of darkness, LaRouche snuck into the unguarded village of the Acolapissa, which was now empty. He knew exactly which hut he sought. He crept slowly towards the center of the camp and approached the hut that belonged to Chief Red Hawk. He walked into the hut and saw, displayed on a small wooden shelf on the far wall, the flintlock pistol that was given to the chief by Natchitos. The leather pouch hung below the pistol, hanging from the handle by the leather strap. He took the pistol and hid it under his vest. He grabbed all the gunpowder and ammunition in the pouch and stuffed it into his vest. He quickly hurried out of the hut and ran out of the village back to the woods. He could see the light of the fires and he could hear the yells of celebration coming from the Nashitosh village. He waited in the woods for the precise moment to arrive.
The celebration continued into the night. St. Denis was pleased to see the two tribes celebrating the end of their time together at the lakeside without any animosity. The festivities were going well, he thought. He ate and drank with all of them. Cadillac was pleased to see everyone celebrating together. He leaned over to St. Denis with a goblet in hand and said, “Cheers to you, Louis, for your success! You have done a fine job uniting these people.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I trust your preparations are complete and you are ready to make your way up the river?” asked Cadillac.
“Yes, we will meet with the tribe the day after tomorrow and set out at first light. Natchitos has assured me the tribe will be ready,” St. Denis replied.
As the bonfire faded to small flames and bright embers, the celebrating and dancing also came to a close. The tribesmen bid farewell to one another and one by one, the Acolapissa started to make their way back to their village. There were many people scattered about talking in small groups. Some of the tribal men were playing games of chance with rocks and sticks. Through the smoke of the hot fire, Tooantuh spotted a face that he recognized. The white man seemed to have come from the forest and began to blend in with the crowds of people. The Acolapissa continued to slowly depart for their village and the soldiers were making their way back to the boats on the bayou to return to the fort. But the lone white man remained and seemed to be coming back towards the tribal area. The white man locked eyes with Tooantuh’s. Tooantuh recognized the intruder immediately. Tooantuh entered his hut and grabbed his bow and arrows and flung them on his back.
“Where are you going, husband?” asked Ayita. “Yo
u’re going hunting at this hour? They will be starting a new game soon, they will surely ask for you.”
“Wait in here, Ayita. I must attend to something.” Tooantuh left her with a puzzled look on her face.
Tooantuh hurried outside the village. The moon was almost full and its light guided his way through the woods. Natchitos looked at him quizzically as he hurried by. Natchitos knew that something must be wrong. He called to Anoki and told him to get his bow. “Wait here with me,” he told him.
Tooantuh entered the forest, slowly tracking LaRouche. LaRouche waited patiently, his heart beating fast. He knew Tooantuh had taken the bait and followed him into the marshy forest. He hid behind trees, and lay low to crawl from one to another. Tooantuh walked slowly with an arrow docked at the ready on his bow. He ducked slowly under branches and stepped lightly in the thick brush. It was difficult to see even with the moonlight breaking through the tall trees and thick branches. LaRouche was covered in sweat, knowing a confrontation was imminent. But, a little cat and mouse in the woods, woods he knew so well, was what he had planned for Tooantuh. But Tooantuh also knew these woods. LaRouche crouched down low, and waited near a stream just beside a narrow oak tree.
LaRouche could only hear the sound of the water. It had become eerily quiet in the trees. He looked in all directions, but saw no one. He held the loaded pistol closely to his chest. He looked to his right, then to his left. He stayed near the tree leaning his back against it. He sensed movement just a few paces away to his right. “There he is,” he thought. He took a deep breath. Then, whirled around to his left and… A hissing sound ripped through the air. He heard a dull thump and he winced in pain as an arrow pierced his upper left arm. He fell to his knees and groaned in agony. He opened his eyes to see the arrow had stuck in his arm and pierced through to the other side. Sweat poured from his face and he spun in all directions trying to locate Tooantuh. He looked at the arrow embedded in his arm and groaned again. He gathered himself and quickly placed his arm to the tree while sitting on the ground. He pressed the point of the arrow up against the tree and held the shaft on the other side. With one quick motion, he snapped the arrow off against the tree. He wailed in pain and fell over to his side. He slowly removed the arrow cleanly from his arm and blood immediately poured from the wound. In agony, he tore off a sleeve from his shirt and tied it around his wound to help stop the bleeding.
He heard a twig snap and sensed Tooantuh had come up from behind. Tooantuh approached him slowly, thinking LaRouche to be gravely injured. LaRouche lay still on the ground. Then, he heard another footstep. He rolled over in an instant, pointed the pistol at a surprised Tooantuh and pulled the trigger. Bam! The bullet hit Tooantuh in his upper chest near the left shoulder. Tooantuh was blown backwards, landing on his back. LaRouche pulled himself to his knees and slowly began to stand up. Tooantuh lay motionless on the dark ground.
The shot was heard in both tribal areas and braves came running into the woods to see what had happened. St. Denis ordered the men to turn the rafts around after hearing the shot. He jumped from the raft and he and two other soldiers ran in the direction of the gunshot. A loud commotion could be heard from the Acolapissa village. It had become apparent that the theft of the pistol had been discovered.
Anoki was the first to arrive and saw the soldier easily in the moonlight, standing over Tooantuh. He came running right up to LaRouche. LaRouche spotted young Anoki charging him and pointed the gun and fired. But, only a click was heard. The pistol only held one round. Anoki plowed into LaRouche, tackling him to the ground and knocked the pistol from his hands. LaRouche growled in agony and tried to escape. Anoki grabbed the pistol and pointed it fruitlessly at LaRouche. “Tooantuh! Get up!” he yelled to the lifeless Indian on the ground. “Stay there, white man! Don’t move!”
St. Denis heard the shouts in the Nashitosh language. He came running at the same time Natchitos and the other braves arrived at the sight of the shooting. Anoki kept shouting, “Tooantuh, Tooantuh!” Then, he shouted at LaRouche, “You have killed Tooantuh!”
St. Denis barked at the soldiers, “Arrest that man, take him to one of the huts immediately and detain him there!” The soldiers dragged LaRouche to his feet and started to take him away, when suddenly Chief Red Hawk and others from his tribe arrived at the scene.
Red Hawk’s eyes fell upon Anoki, standing with the flintlock pistol still in his hands. He became incensed at the sight. “So!” he yelled. “This is how you honor my people’s generosity! What kind of thievery is this?” He glared at Natchitos. “There will only be one answer for this treachery!” Shocked, Anoki immediately dropped the pistol at Red Hawk’s feet. But Red Hawk left it there. He abruptly turned and led his braves away to their village.
Natchitos ran a few steps toward him, “No! It is not as you see!” But it was too late. Red Hawk angrily left the open area in the woods. Natchitos whirled around with anger in his eyes. “Whose work is this?” He made a fiery glare at LaRouche who was being held by two soldiers. Then he looked at St. Denis with heartbroken dismay.
“Great chief! I knew nothing of this man’s underhanded deeds!” St. Denis pleaded with Natchitos. “I am arresting him and he will be imprisoned for what he has done. You must believe me that I knew nothing of this!” He barked at the two soldiers holding LaRouche, “Didn’t you hear me? Take him back to the village and wait for me there, now!” The soldiers dragged LaRouche away towards the Nashitosh village.
Anoki knelt beside Tooantuh, as did Natchitos. Just then, Ayita came running into the woods screaming. “Where is he?” she yelled with panic. “Tooantuh!” she cried, and fell to her knees beside her husband. Several Indians crowded around Tooantuh. They were careful to not let St. Denis or any of the other white men around him. Anoki noticed something from the corner of his eye, yet Tooantuh still lay with eyes closed and motionless. “Father,” he whispered softly to Natchitos.
Ayita sat sobbing uncontrollably. Natchitos touched Ayita on the shoulder, “You must be brave. He must be taken to a proper place for mourning.” She looked up at Natchitos. “Take Anoki with you. He can help you.” Ayita stopped sobbing and looked at her husband then at Natchitos and Anoki with confusion. “He must be taken to the proper place for mourning,” Natchitos said again. She nodded her head in understanding.
Natchitos stood and turned to St. Denis. “There is nothing we can do to change these events. We must prepare now for what awaits us. There is no time to waste. Stand with me, Lieutenant, or go on your way and leave us.”
“You have my word, Natchitos, I will stand with you,” St. Denis said reassuringly. He turned to Cadillac, “Sir, I am afraid that Red Hawk will retaliate for this. Can we send for help to settle this matter?”
Cadillac answered him, “I’ll do what I can, Louis, but we are allies of both tribes. It would be easier if we could explain to Chief Red Hawk what happened. But I’m afraid it may not do any good. I will take some of the men back with me in one of the rafts.” He turned quickly and made his way down to the bayou.
After everyone had left the area, Anoki quietly helped Ayita take Tooantuh’s body down to the bayou and lifted him into one of the canoes. They set out on the bayou in the cover of darkness.
Legend Upon the Cane Page 10
