The Incredible Escape. The Adventures of Radisson 3 (5 page)

BOOK: The Incredible Escape. The Adventures of Radisson 3
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Total silence fell on the assembly. No one had moved since Ragueneau had begun to speak. A mixture of surprise and fear was evident on the faces of the chiefs and the old women. Such a veiled threat had never been made by Father Le Moyne. Some Iroquois had been pleased with themselves for limiting the French influence in Onondaga, but this newcomer had sown serious doubt in their minds. They now knew that any reply to the Jesuit's requests would have grave consequences.

“As an act of our goodwill…” Ragueneau added, motioning for Radisson to open the large canvas sack he had brought with him, “...to show you that I seek only to spare you the wrath of our Great Spirit, I offer this gift to our friend Awenissera, who can share it among you at his convenience.”

Radisson took six gleaming long-barrelled muskets from the bag, stacking them in a pyramid.

“These are the finest muskets the French have ever made. They have just arrived from the other side of the great salty sea. We have brought others with us to exchange with you later in return for furs. It is now time for Radisson to speak. He knows you well for he spent a long time among the Mohawks.”

After Ragueneau had lowered expectations, it was now Radisson's turn to raise them. He gave those assembled a warm smile, making sure that he could be seen by all and delighted that it had fallen upon him to gratify the Iroquois and thank them for their welcome.

“The Onondaga have the finest country in all the world!” he began, looking several Iroquois in the eye. “Since I arrived a few days ago, your country has not ceased to amaze me! I have seen all kinds of game, and my French friends who have been living here for a year inform me that the fish are also plentiful. Your forests are full of nuts. Your woods allow you to make everything you need. What more could your people ask for? You already have everything we could ever dream of. My French friends and I are delighted to live with you in such a beautiful land, alongside such a generous people.”

Radisson paused to see what impact his words were having. Faces were relaxing. Smiles were appearing.

“I also noticed how well kept your fields are. Your women are skilful and well used to growing corn, squash, and beans in a way the French have not yet mastered. We want you to show us how to have such fine harvests. You know that the French are also excellent farmers. But they lack experience in this new land. They planted French wheat around their fort without having the time to prepare the land, and now they are sorry because nothing grows better here than your wheat, your corn. We ask you to teach us how, the things you learned from your ancestors, so that we might enjoy such bountiful harvests ourselves. In the meantime, we are in need of your generosity.

“So that our union and the peace between us remain strong, so that trade makes us both more prosperous, we wish to exchange French goods in return for much corn and beans. Judging from what I have seen, your harvest will be plentiful and I have no fear of depriving you by asking you to share it with us. As you can see, we have precious goods to offer you in exchange, such as these muskets and a great deal of powder. Beautiful sheaves of corn hanging from the walls of your homes have already caught my eye, while countless ears of corn are still to be harvested in your fields. We are asking you for one hundred large baskets of corn and twenty baskets of beans, once they are dry and are ready to be stored.

“We make this request because we had to leave much food behind along the way, as our Iroquois guides have surely told you already. Even though we anticipated every eventuality, our cautious guides insisted we could not bring everything with us. Their thinking was perhaps well founded, but today we find ourselves penalized. We French showed much bravery and would have brought everything along to be sure of never going hungry. We hope you will agree to make up for the caution they showed. If you agree to my request, all the French will be grateful to you. Father Ragueneau, Father Le Moyne, and I can promise you that.”

To the surprise of the two Jesuits, who had not known how Radisson planned to close his speech, the young man suddenly produced a fistful of iron needles and fish hooks from the small bag he was carrying over his shoulder.

“I, too, have gifts for you,” he exclaimed. “It is not much, but I offer them gladly.”

Radisson began to walk around the assembly, placing in each outstretched hand a few hooks or needles from his personal supply of trading goods, starting with Chief Awenissera. He went from person to person until there were no more gifts left. He gave some to Andoura, who did not appear to recognize him. Radisson was so taken aback that he couldn't think quickly enough to let him know he wanted to speak to him. All the Iroquois were either delighted or amused. They had found their good humour, even though they had not forgotten the important decision they would have to make regarding the Great Spirit of the French. The issue of food supplies would also have to be carefully considered: the well-being of the whole community was at stake.

Awenissera closed the assembly by promising the Jesuit his request would be discussed in the very near future in each longhouse and would soon be a matter for discussion at the next village council. They would have to wait until the whole harvest had been gathered before looking into how much corn could be given to the French. As soon as both decisions had been made, a messenger would send for the French.

***

Radisson let Prudhomme and the two Jesuits return to the French fort alone; he still had business to take care of in Onondaga. He wanted to meet Andoura, who had slipped out immediately after the council, to find out why none of the emissaries they had met in Trois-Rivières had come to see them in Montréal. He also hoped to get Ononta and Mahatari's permission to go to the Bear clan's hunting grounds.

Entering one of the two homes that the clan's many members lived in, Radisson came face to face with Ononta. His head, shoulders, and back were covered in wolfskin. He was holding a turtle shell rattle in one hand, a small round drum in the other, and wearing a bag decorated with porcupine quills around his neck. The Iroquois stood stock-still before Radisson, who was astounded to see him dressed like this.

“Go see Mahatari,” the Iroquois told him after a moment. “She has something for you.”

Ononta continued on, disappearing into the neighbouring house while Radisson made his way hesitantly into the darkness, spotting Mahatari some distance away. She and her husband lived at this end of the longhouse, in an area half closed off by a wall of intertwined branches, the likes of which Radisson had never seen before in a longhouse.

“Hello, Orinha,” said Mahatari, moving toward him.

Radisson was gradually getting used to the couple calling him by his former Iroquois name.

“I just bumped into your husband… Why is he so dressed up?”

“Take a seat,” she replied.

Radisson recalled the respect Ononta had been shown on their travels and the eagle he had taken down with one shot. Mahatari sat beside him, close to the almost extinguished fire, without saying a word. He took the wooden cup of water she handed him and drank slowly. Further away, lots of plants were being hung to dry upside down. Radisson was beginning to understand. He repeated his question.

“He has gone to heal a sick woman,” she replied.

“He's a shaman, isn't he?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly everything was clear. That's why a small, scrawny man who barely said a word was so respected. No one knew when they might need him to calm a spirit, tell them what the future had in store, or explain a dream. More than anything, no one wanted him to one day use his power against them. But Radisson could not understand why Ononta seemed to have taken him under his wing.

“He knew your father,” Mahatari explained. “Garagonké came to our village a few days after meeting you for the first time. He had come to get our village to rise up against the French. But he spoke very well of you. He was proud that you were joining his family to replace one of his beloved sons. Ononta is pleased you honoured him by fighting the Erie. Your father was a great warrior.”

“I know.”

Radisson was itching to ask a question. Although he was almost certain what the reply would be, he wanted to ask it just the same to eliminate all doubt from his mind.

“Garagonké is dead, isn't he?”

“Yes. The Algonquins killed your father in an ambush. He didn't stand a chance.”

The ties between his old adoptive family and the shaman, not to mention Mahatari's concern for him and confirmation that his Iroquois father was indeed dead, plunged Radisson into a state of uncertainty. This past life he had so enjoyed was well and truly over. He did not regret running away from his village, even though he was once again among the Iroquois. Had it not been for Ragueneau and his mission, were it not for the fur trade grinding to a halt, he would probably never have set foot in their country again, except perhaps to meet with a shaman. And now he had unwittingly met a shaman who knew him through someone else. It was more than he could have hoped for.

“Ononta said you had something for me.”

“Wait here.”

Mahatari walked over to where the plants were hanging. She and her husband did not dress in cloth like so many other Indians. Instead, they dressed from head to toe in leather, as they had done in the days before the white men had arrived. She took down three long feathers hanging among the plants and gave them to Radisson.

“These are feathers from the eagle Ononta killed when you were scared you were going to die. He hopes they will open your eyes. You were so afraid that you did not understand this spirit was watching over you. It was there. It came to reassure you. Ononta could see it, but you did not. He had to sacrifice it to show you. This is a very precious gift he has given you. Take good care of it.”

Holding the feathers, Radisson could feel the same warmth pulsing through him as when he picked up his knife. He instinctively gripped its handle without taking it out of its sheath. Energy coursed through his body. He felt as though he was about to fly away. Mahatari could see his reaction.

“You see? The eagle is speaking to you. He's watching over you. You need not worry. It's a very powerful spirit.”

Radisson was a little irritated by the veiled criticisms Ononta was making by giving him this present.

“How could I have known the eagle spirit was protecting me? No one ever taught me these things. The French don't think like that and my Mohawk brothers never mentioned a thing. I need Ononta to do more for me than give me feathers. I need him to teach me.”

Mahatari stayed calm.

“I need him to explain how I can communicate with the eagle, how it can give me strength. I don't know what to do with these feathers. How do you want the gift to be useful to me? Ononta must show me. He must tell me why I am so attached to this knife and why the eagle is the spirit I must revere.”

Mahatari thought for a moment.

“You will sleep here. Tomorrow, you can talk to Ononta. Perhaps he will agree to show you the secrets you want to know.”

Radisson had forgotten all about the hunting grounds that had brought him there. Supplies for the French fort no longer seemed so important. He had a date with destiny.

***

All night long, Ononta called on the spirits by singing, chanting, and beating on his drum, in the hope of saving the dying woman. In vain. She died in the early hours of the morning. The shaman came home tired and frustrated. He slept for a few hours and ate in silence with Radisson and Mahatari. His wife tried to talk him into teaching the young Frenchman. He refused: custom had it that everything to do with each person's totemic animal had to remain a secret. Radisson brandished the eagle fathers in front of the Iroquois. He implored him to reveal his connection to the eagle, but to no avail. Ononta remained stony-faced.

“I couldn't care less if the eagle is my animal!” Radisson exploded. “Your secrets are worthless! The Iroquois have nothing to teach me!”

He flung the feathers to the ground and whirled away from the shaman.

Ononta knew that the eagle would prove a valuable guide to the adopted Frenchman, an ally like no other, to give his life meaning and direction. He weighed up the importance of the precious gifts the spirits had given him. In a way, he regretted not revealing all to Radisson, since it was within his powers to teach the young man and rid him of the uncertainties that were preventing his talents from blossoming. When he really thought about it, he considered Radisson something of an exception: not quite French, not quite Iroquois. Why not make an exception for him, too? He walked off for a while to think the situation over.

“Very well. I will teach you what you want to know. But first we will wait for night to fall so that no one sees us together.”

The two men withdrew to a teepee deep in the woods. Ononta would spend whole days fasting there, preparing plant-based remedies and consulting the spirits. Mahatari, who also knew a lot of secrets, never ventured there. Around the teepee, other small bark cabins were used for other ceremonies, healing the sick, and interpreting omens. By comparison, Ononta would have an easy time of things today. All he had to do was speak to the young man.

With the help of scared herbs, he first had to purify and cleanse the teepee of all interference from the spirits. Radisson/Orinha was behaving admirably. He stayed calm and listened as the shaman told him what to do. He was ready to receive his teaching. Ononta hoped that this experience with a Frenchman would help him deal with the situation his people were now facing as the Jesuits preached all over the land about the power of their Great Spirit and disparaged the Iroquois spirits.

Radisson, meanwhile, had been hoping for a long time to understand the enigmatic powers his knife held over him. The eagle was apparently his totemic animal. But what did that even mean? What relationship would he have to develop with the bird? What meaning, what importance would he have to give to this relationship? He kept a close eye on Ononta and did all he asked of him. He quickly grew used to the animal skulls on fur pelts nearby, to the tangle of plants and feathers hanging everywhere, to the animal skins, and to the masks dangling from sticks of different lengths beaten down into the ground. He was not afraid of Ononta casting an evil spell on him.

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