Adventures of Radisson (20 page)

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.

SURPRISES
AT RENSSELAERWYCK


T
HE
I
ROQUOIS 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 like 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.

A
T 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.

Otoniata followed one of them into his home, and the rest of the party trooped in after him. The man and his wife served them treats: bread and prunes from Europe. No stranger to the welcome ritual, Otoniata also called for alcohol. The man agreed and poured a little wine into two terracotta cups, one for Otoniata and one for himself. Then, they raised their cups and drained them in one gulp. Now bargaining could begin.

Since it was his first time, Orinha paid close attention to how the Iroquois and the Dutch traded. The man of the house first laid out four long iron knives on the table and gestured that he wanted two beaver pelts for each. Otoniata shook his head and signalled that he was prepared to give only one pelt per knife, no more. The man screwed up his face in disgust. He moved over to get a closer look at the pelts Otoniata had laid beside him out on the ground. He felt them, shook his head, and held up two fingers. Otoniata stood up abruptly and ordered his companions to follow him out of this den of thieves. The Dutchman cursed himself for setting his sights too high and missing out on a great moneymaking opportunity.

News of their arrival spread like wildfire. The eight Iroquois pushed their way through the small crowd gathered around the door to the first house and moved on to the next, where the Dutch couple who lived there welcomed them like royalty. Beside herself with excitement, the lady of the house hurriedly spread a white cloth over the simple table that occupied the centre of the only room in their little wooden house. Then, in chipped terracotta plates, she served her guests meat from the iron cooking pot hanging over the fire. But the food was not to the Iroquois' liking, except for Orinha, who was surprised to rediscover the taste of salt and pork he'd eaten so often in France and in New France.

The man of the house showed the Iroquois his old musket, while his wife cleared the table with lowered head, eyes half-hidden under her bonnet. She laid a red blanket on the table, which Otoniata, Ganaha, and Thadodaho explored with their hands, giving it their complete attention. The thick cloth was soft to the touch and appeared to be warm and comfortable. Otoniata was the first to offer four beaver pelts for the musket and the blanket. The man jumped back, hiding the musket behind him to show that the offer was too low. He pointed to the blanket with his free hand and held up four fingers, nodding all the while. To make sure he was understood, he then showed the musket again, indicating that he wanted four more pelts for it to be part of the bargain. Otoniata hesitated.

“I'll give you two beaver pelts for the blanket,” Ganaha cut in, holding up two fingers.

“I'll give you three for the blanket,” Otoniata retorted, “but you can keep your old musket. I have a better one.”

Without waiting for the Dutchman's reaction, or for a higher bid from Ganaha, Otoniata grabbed the blanket and began to unpack his furs. He motioned to the man to choose three pelts from the pile. It was a deal, no matter what Ganaha and the Dutchman might have thought. The Dutchman hurriedly took the furs owed to him, rolled them up as fast as he could, and handed them to his wife, who went straight to the back of the house to put them in a wooden chest. Seeing this, Ganaha pointed to the chest the woman had taken the red blanket out of. “Any more blankets?” he asked in Iroquois. “Show me.” She understood and pulled a worn old blanket from the chest. Ganaha gave it a half-hearted feel, disappointed, making it clear that it was of no interest to him. Thadodaho piped up to offer her two pelts for it. The man and the woman glanced at each other and accepted his proposal, barely able to suppress a smile.

The Iroquois moved on to another house, where they were again served treats and wine. Some made trades in return for axes and knives. Ganaha snapped up a set of iron needles and glass pearls. “For Oreanoué,” he told Orinha. “She'll be so pleased. I also want to bring back some nice blankets and cooking pots and iron utensils for her.” It occurred to Orinha that he should do the same thing, and bring back some glass pearls to charm the young ladies of the village. They could decorate their clothes with them. He also wanted to bring back blankets and a big copper cooking pot for Katari.

I
NSIDE
F
ORT
O
RANGE
, a smartly uniformed soldier climbed the wooden staircase leading to the apartments of Peter Orlaer, the governor and commander of Rensselaerwyck. The soldier knocked and walked right in.

“Good morning, Commander,” he said. “The Iroquois have just arrived. There are only eight of them, but they have lots of furs.”

Sitting at his desk, the governor was polishing off his breakfast. He stood up slowly, wiping his mouth and hands with his serviette, then asked his lieutenant:

“Do you know them?”

“I recognized Otoniata and Deconissora from the village of Coutu. But I'm not sure I know the others. You can't always tell from this distance.”

“Come with me. We'll have a look from the stockade. Do you know which way they came?”

“I imagine they came from the north, Commander.”

The governor and the lieutenant walked down the staircase from the main bastion where Peter Orlaer had his apartments and strode over to the fortified enclosure surrounding the buildings.

“They must have crossed the river near Schenectady,” the lieutenant said. “That's the best route from their village.”

They followed the inside wall of the stockade for a short distance, climbed the ladder in the corner up to the parapet, then looked out through the trees over the northern part of the village of Rensselaerwyck.

“Where are they?” Governor Orlaer asked.

“Over there,” replied his lieutenant, “Where the people are gathered outside van Bogaert's house. They're all trying to coax them into their homes.”

“The village folk are even greedier than I am. Look at them, vultures,” said the governor. “Take two or three men with you and keep a close eye on them. Don't make a scene. Make sure they don't drink too much. I don't want any fuss. Let them trade a few furs with the villagers; then invite them to come and meet me. Tell them I want to make them an offer. See to it that they come up here with plenty of beaver pelts. Go now. I'll prepare one of the receptions they're so fond of.”

“Very well, Commander. You can count on me.”