Adventures of Radisson (13 page)

“No problem,” replied Orinha. “But how do I get up there? And once I'm there, how will I find the strength to cut through the bark the way you did?”

“Don't worry. You'll manage. We'll start by building you something to stand on.”

Through the thin layer of snow that still covered the forest floor, Ganaha spied two long branches. They were dead but seemed solid enough. With his tomahawk, he freed them and cut them to the right length. Then he leaned them tight against the trunk of the elm.

“Climb up these poles and stand on them. I'll help you. Then, loop this rope around your waist, and then around the tree. That way you'll have both hands free to cut into the bark with your knife. Got it?”

“Got it! I'll take a run-up and you give me a shove when I reach you, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Here I come…”

Orinha dashed forward as Ganaha pushed him upward with all his strength, and all of a sudden the younger brother was standing at the top of their makeshift ladder, right where it met the trunk. Orinha hugged the tree, looped the rope around it, and then set about cutting deep into the bark, right down to the wood. The brothers moved their ladder three times as they worked their way around the tree. All they had to do now was cut the bark from top to bottom, the easiest part. Orinha grabbed the knife with both hands and put all his weight against it, letting himself slide back down into Ganaha's arms. Then his brother took care of the awkward part, slowly tearing the bark away from the trunk, careful not to let it break.

The operation took them all day. At dusk, the brothers brought the long roll of bark back to camp. It was in perfect condition and would be used to make the hull of a canoe. The next day Shononses, Otasseté, Thadodaho, and Tahira brought back two shorter rolls of bark from thinner elms.

Otasseté was the most experienced canoe builder among them. He oversaw the building of the three canoes, with help from Shononses and Thadodaho. The others cut and prepared the thin inside ribs that would make it tough and strong. Next, they dug up and prepared the roots that were used to sew the strips of bark and the wood ribs together. The last step was to make the seams watertight, using spruce gum. Eight days later, the group boasted one large canoe seating four and two smaller ones that could carry three people each.

Orinha, who was learning each of the techniques for the very first time, was impressed by his companions' ingenuity. They had come here with no materials at all, with only tomahawks and knives for tools, and now in no time at all they had three solid canoes that would bring them to the ends of the earth! His opinion of them, formed as he listened to never-ending boasts of their military prowess around the fire, or watched their eyes light up at games of chance, had completely changed. Here, deep in the forest, on the warpath, his friends were revealing their many talents. Orinha was happy to be living life to the full with them.

B
UILDING THE CANOES
had taken their mind off the lingering bad weather. Now that they were ready to push off onto the still-frozen lake, they did not know what to do. They could not stand being crowded into their smoky camp shelter for hours on end, even though it protected them from the violent squalls that chilled their morale as much as their bodies. The cold and wind seemed to have frozen even the game, no trace of which could be found in the forest. All too often, the hunters came back empty-handed. What's more, the fragile, porous ice that still covered the lake was preventing them from moving away from the shoreline and fishing beneath the ice, as they would have done in the heart of winter. And so they were reduced to eating away at their rapidly declining provisions of cornmeal, provisions that were intended for use only in combat or on long journeys.

Kondaron was worried. He wondered if the setbacks they'd experienced meant the spirits were not favourable to the campaign. He wasn't contemplating turning back just yet, but doubt had begun to set in. Orinha, who thus far hadn't set much store by the often subtle revelations made by the spirits, could also feel the anxiety spreading throughout the war party.

One morning, a bad dream awakened Kondaron. Shaken by the images that suddenly loomed before him, he hurriedly made a fire and threw a few handfuls of tobacco into the flames to ward off the ill fortune that had appeared to him in his sleep. His surprised companions worried even more when Kondaron went off before they could share the meal Shononses had prepared for them, saying: “I must consult the spirits. Do not disturb me. I will be down by the lake.” To lighten the atmosphere, Shononses shrugged and suggested they go ahead and eat, as though nothing had happened. Later, midway through an idle day when nobody felt much like doing anything, Ganaha made up his mind to seek out Kondaron, saying he wanted to go hunting. But first he hoped to find out what was on his mind. Kondaron saw him approach and spoke first:

“You were right to come.”

Reassured, Ganaha sat down beside him and said:

“Good. We are worried, my brother. I came to ask why you are hiding what troubles you. Are we not all bound by the same fate?”

“The bad dream I had last night concerns but one of us,” replied Kondaron.

“Orinha or Atotara?” asked Ganaha, after a moment's thought.

“Atotara is of the same blood and the same clan as we are. I mean Orinha.”

“Orinha is also part of the Bear clan,” Ganaha replied. “He comes from my family. He is the adopted son who has taken the place of my beloved brother. He is loved very much by Katari and Garagonké, and by me.”

“You are right. But that is not what is worrying me. You forget that we don't know how he lived as a Frenchman before he became one of us. You know him better than any of us. Do you know?”

“No,” admitted Ganaha. “All I know is that he showed himself to be brave and skilful when we captured him. I know he loves the Iroquois and wants to fight with us. He wants to win with us. He is sincere. Of that I have no doubt.”

Kondaron's face twitched slightly at the thought of the bad dream that had awakened him up with a start. How could he read anything into it if Orinha's past remained a mystery to them? How could he comprehend the sign sent to him by the spirits? What did the image of suffering and death sent to him mean?

“I believe it too,” replied Kondaron after a moment. “But that's not the issue. Last night, I saw your brother perish beneath the blows of our enemies. His body was covered in blood and pierced with arrows, a stone tomahawk planted in his head. I am wondering if that means he is to die on our campaign.”

Ganaha kept silent. Now it was his turn to be troubled by the morbid image.

“Have you noticed that Orinha doesn't wear a medicine bag like the rest of us?” continued Kondaron. “Do you know if a spirit is protecting him?”

Ganaha remained deep in thought. He did not know.

“It is true that Orinha wears no visible sign of the spirit that is protecting him,” he finally answered. “I don't know if young Frenchmen choose a spirit to guide them for the rest of their lives, as we do. I've never thought about it before.”

“Who will protect him then when he battles at our side? You? Me? Will the power of my guardian spirit extend to him? Will the word I gave to your father and my vigilance be enough? I am wondering what to do, Ganaha.”

Ganaha did not have an answer. Suddenly he was overwhelmed at the thought that an ill omen seemed to be hanging over his brother, the younger brother that he too had promised to protect. He hoped the French won the favour of the spirits in their own way, and that he and his chief would be helped by spirits they did not know. He recalled the Great Spirit the Jesuit who lived in their longhouse for a few weeks would talk about.

“Anyway,” Kondaron went on, “it's up to me to resolve the problem. I'm asking you to continue to keep an eye on your brother as you've been doing. Show him everything he needs to know. I'll find a way to extend the protection of the spirits that favour us. Because the spirits are once again in our favour, my dear brother. Look over there, in the middle of the lake.”

Ganaha turned his head and saw the sun glinting off the lake's surface.

“The water is starting to filter through the ice,” Kondaron explained. “The pool of water reflecting the sun has been growing steadily since this morning. I've been watching it closely. Tonight, tomorrow at the latest, the ice will give way entirely and the lake will be free. And we will at last be able to paddle across to the Erie! Come, let's share the good news with our companions.”

A
S THEY PADDLED
energetically across what seemed like a sea of fresh water as big as the ocean, beneath a resplendent sun, carried along by a gentle breeze pushing them in the right direction, Orinha was drunk with happiness. When he felt thirsty, he drank clear water straight from the lake. When he was hungry, he ate the fish they'd caught that day. Each night, after setting up camp on the beckoning shore, they gathered around the fire to eat, sing, and tell stories. When night came, they slept under the stars beneath their canoes, breathing in the air perfumed with the springtime flora that was sprouting up everywhere around them. Orinha could not imagine being any happier. Nature's generosity, the simple life, the freedom, this thrilling trip that carried him ever further, all were worth all the gold in the world. He savoured every minute of their time on the water, every instant given back to him one hundred-fold after his brush with death. Life provided him with everything he could wish for. He was happy to be an Iroquois. The serene days even caused him to forget the main reason for the idyllic journey— war.

A week later, they reached the end of the lake. Kondaron chose the mouth of a broad river to set up a long-term camp.

“From now on,” he explained, “our path will be less safe. We will have to be on our guard: the land of the Erie is not far away. Before we engage the enemy, we will have to stock up on provisions. Let each man get ready to hunt and fish. We will stay here for as long as it takes.”

The ten men set about fishing right away. While Kondaron led four of the warriors hunting, three others stayed behind to smoke the fish they caught. Alone in his canoe, Orinha continued to fish a short distance from shore, fascinated by the immensity of the light-flooded lake. He wished the magic could last forever, that they would never turn inland to fight. He never tired of admiring the fresh vegetation that coloured the horizon, or of thanking nature for providing them with everything they needed, and more. A kind of ecstasy took hold of him as the blazing sun rose to its zenith in the pure blue sky. He was thrilled to be fishing for his brothers while they hunted for him, the same brothers who stuck together in life and in death and would soon be fighting alongside each other to save the peoples of the earth.

As in a dream, Orinha imagined himself coming to this part of the world in different circumstances, to put into action an idea that had always been dear to him. His capture had brought his plans to an abrupt end, but he could see himself returning here to trade and to experience momentous events that would turn his world upside down. The powerful sun was making him dizzy. Out on the water, its intense reflections were blinding him. He read his fate in the gentle swaying canoe atop the water, written in letters of gold, like a message from another dimension. Orinha floated across the immense lake, across time, in a parallel world where humans, spirits, animals, earth, and water lived together in harmony.

Cries rang out from the shoreline: “Orinha! Orinha! It's getting dark! Come and eat!” His companions were waving to him. His dream vanished. He realized that the sun was disappearing over the horizon in a thousand shining colours. It was time to go back. Quickly, Orinha shook himself, pulled in his lines, grabbed his paddle, and headed back to camp. Ganaha was waiting for him on the shoreline with open arms: “Look, Orinha!” he exclaimed. “Look at the huge deer we killed! We'll have enough meat for a week!”