The Incredible Escape. The Adventures of Radisson 3 Read online

  “I have something else to teach you,” Ononta added. “The ties that bind each of us to our totemic animals are a secret because they are unique. There are a number of eagles, and all the qualities of all the eagles will not be within your reach. Some hunt animals on the ground, others fish, while others steal their food. You must decide which of all these qualities will be of greatest use to you. You must also cast off the weights that are dragging you down. You must make yourself as light as a bird. With each passing day, with every dive, the eagle perseveres. The energy that sustains it is renewed. You must never allow yourself to become discouraged.”

  Ononta fell silent. Radisson’s head was spinning. He had sensed all this in the courage shown by his father Garagonké, in the wisdom of his war chief Kondiaronk, in the way his brother Ganaha hunted. But never had he come into contact with the foundation of their inner lives. He had not known what lay behind their strength. And now Ononta had given him this unexpected gift.

  Looking back over all the shaman had revealed to him, Radisson realized he had far to go as an apprentice. But he had just taken a decisive step, as though walking out of a dark forest into the light.

  ***

  Radisson led one of the canoes speeding toward the French fort. Ononta and Mahatari’s son Denongea paddled the heavy canoe up onto the shore. Five Iroquois from the Bear clan followed closely behind. They brought with them five dead deer, three bears, and six beavers.

  “What a haul!” cried the Frenchmen who had come to greet them. “God is great! The hunt was a success!”

  Father Ragueneau rushed up to them as they were loading the meat onto the makeshift cart that rattled its way back and forth between the river and the fort.

  “What happened to you?” he asked. “I’ve been terribly worried about you!”

  “Out hunting, Father. Out hunting, as you can see. It took longer than expected, but I got what I was after. I can even go back any time I want. I got permission from the Bear clan to hunt on the best grounds along with them and two or three of our own men.”

  “Very well, but you will have to wait for a day or two. A messenger just brought me word that the Iroquois have agreed to our requests! Now I must go to the village to decide where the chapel should go and oversee its construction. The corn you asked for will soon be ready, too. But this time you’re staying with me. I’ve had enough fretting for one day.”

  Chapter 4

  THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN

  Accompanied by three chiefs from the Bear clan, Awenissera showed Father Ragueneau the two sites they were proposing for the chapel to be built on. The chiefs’ favourite was outside the palisade by the entrance gate. There, it would be seen by all in the vicinity. They suggested putting up a small enclosure on two or three sides, whichever the Jesuit preferred. Ragueneau was not satisfied. They led him on to the only other space still available inside the village of Onondaga, tucked away in a corner. The Jesuit wasn’t any more taken with the idea.

  “Why not in front of the council house?” he asked.

  “You chapel will be in the way there and it will be too small,” Awenissera answered. “There is no room.”

  “Let’s go take a look all the same,” Ragueneau urged.

  The chiefs went with him reluctantly. At best, they would be able to build a small bark chapel there. But it would obstruct the entrance to the council house. Even Father Ragueneau, who dreamt of occupying such a central position, could see the problem. Radisson was relieved to see his master’s hesitation because here the chapel would be vying for importance with what was a sacred place for their Confederacy. This was no way to improve relations with the Iroquois. Ragueneau did not insist. And so the group returned to the second site.

  “Here it shall be,” the Jesuit declared after some reflection. “I am anxious that our chapel be in the village among you. We will place a high cross on top so that everyone will know where to find it.”

  The chiefs agreed. Construction would begin the following day.

  “Until the chapel is ready, you will stay with my family,” Awenissera told them.

  The next day, while Ragueneau traced the chapel’s perimeter and fifteen Iroquois gathered the wood and bark they would need to build it, Radisson inquired about the corn that was to be sent to the French. Awenissera’s wife and other women from the Bear clan had started shelling the dried ears of corn and were collecting the grains in large wicker baskets. Fifteen or so were already full. The rest would be ready in a day or two.

  In the meantime, Radisson went for a walk through the village. He tried to put Ononta’s advice into practice. He looked at the activity surrounding him with the eyes of an eagle, as though he were soaring through the air.

  Getting the harvest ready and preparing for winter was keeping a lot of people busy. Sheaves of corn hung from the walls of every home. The harvest had been a good one. Inside, women shelled beans, too. Others were out bringing in squash from the fields, while men repaired bark roofs or smoked fish. Many headed to the woods to hunt or gather firewood.

  Radisson noticed the rather cool reception he was getting. Few Iroquois smiled at him or bothered to greet him. He felt like an outsider. Only members of the Wolf clan were truly thoughtful and welcoming toward him and the other Frenchmen. Even Mahatari and Ononta were only kind to him because he was part Iroquois.

  Suddenly he saw Andoura walk between two longhouses. Radisson darted around the building the Iroquois had disappeared behind and found himself face to face with him. This time, Andoura could not slip away.

  “Hello!” said Radisson, flashing him his best smile. “I’m happy to see you again.”

  The chief was embarrassed and pretended not to recognize him. He tried to step around Radisson, but the Frenchman stood in his path and drew his knife, planting its handle right under Andoura’s nose. The Iroquois gave a start, and his hand was instinctively drawn to his own knife.

  “Incredible, isn’t it?”

  The Iroquois did not reply. His eyes were wide with surprise. Radisson felt the need to refresh his memory.

  “I thought the very same thing when you took out your knife in Trois-Rivières last winter. I was there. Don’t you remember? I’ll never forget it.”

  Andoura had neither the presence nor the assurance he had shown in Trois-Rivières. After a long moment’s hesitation, looking Radisson square in the eye as though to read his intentions, he took out his knife and laid it in his hands to compare the two. The likeness was uncanny. The handle was identical: there was the same slender eagle head, the same hooked beak, the same beady eyes, the same broad feathers that went all the way down to the blade, opening out ever so slightly. They had surely been made by the same person. How else could they be so similar? Only the blades were slightly different. And yet Andoura’s knife had been made especially for him in extraordinary circumstances. He would have sworn that it was one of a kind.

  “Where did you get this knife?” the chief demanded.

  “At Fort Orange, in a Dutchman’s house. And you?”

  “I can’t tell you here.”

  They were still examining their knives. Then their eyes met again with a fiery, knowing look.

  “I am sorry my brothers killed the Hurons,” said Andoura. “I was against it.”

  Surprised by this unexpected admission, Radisson didn’t know what to say.

  “I must speak with you,” the Iroquois added. “It’s important. Join me tonight in the council house when the moon has set. And be careful. We can’t let anybody see us.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  The Iroquois was gone in a flash.

  Father Ragueneau had been sleeping for a long time. Exhausted but happy to have helped put up the long poles that made up the chapel’s frame, he was constantly thanking Awenissera for welcoming him into his house while the chapel was being built. He was tired but excited. By now, everyone else in the longhouse was asleep. Only Radisson was still awake, afraid of missing his rendezvous. The night s
eemed to drag on forever.

  So as not to fall asleep, Radisson sat on his bed, trying to determine the hour and the position of the moon. He thought back to his dream in Trois-Rivières once the Iroquois ambassadors had gone. His father Garagonké had told him: “Take this knife, my son, and be brave, for the lives of the Frenchmen are in your hands.” He had not spent long trying to work out what the dream might mean, but he should have because today the words still troubled him. He clutched his knife in both hands and closed his eyes. He opened them again to ease the transition from dreams to reality. He closed them, then opened them again. But it was all still as much of a mystery as ever.

  The moon had probably set by now. They must not be surprised by the first light. Radisson stood up very carefully, anxious not to wake a soul, and tiptoed to the end of the house. The walk had never seemed so long. Nobody could see him. At last, he lifted the bark flap and found himself outside. Clouds masked part of the sky. The moon, hidden by the neighbouring house, would soon drop off the horizon. It was time. Radisson found his way around the village as best he could. He recognized the small council house and risked lifting the bark flap. He hoped that Andoura had kept his word. It was pitch-black inside, apart from a pile of embers in the sacred fire, which glowed red without emitting any real light. He groped his way along.

  “Andoura?” he whispered. “Are you there?”

  “Radisson? Is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me. Where are you?”

  The Frenchman stopped as he felt the Iroquois’ breath against his face. Andoura touched him with his fingertips. Recognizing his bushy beard, he began to speak in a low voice.

  “We don’t have much time. First, you should know that two of the three chiefs who came with me to Trois-Rivières are dead. I myself was gravely ill. The fourth, who was against the alliance with the French, has remained in good health.”

  Radisson was distressed to hear this: a stroke of bad luck had surely left a very bad impression.

  “Many took it to be a bad omen and have become suspicious of the French. Some are no longer in favour of peace. Until now, chiefs like Awenissera and I had the upper hand, but things are changing. The chapel has left many furious. Awenissera is clever. He spoke well and managed to convince a majority of chiefs that it was time to let the Blackrobes live in our village. But those who were against it held a secret council. Awenissera is to be frozen out. I was invited to speak of what happened in Trois-Rivières. The chiefs opposed to the alliance want to know if the French cast an evil spell on us.”

  “The French never cast evil spells,” Radisson replied. “They want peace. For the good of your people, and for the good of mine.”

  “I will speak again in favour of the alliance with the French,” Andoura reassured him. “But I have learned that a Mohawk chief will also speak. Almost all the Mohawks are against you. He will surely urge us to pick up our weapons and join forces with them. Because of them the Hurons travelling with you were killed. They convinced our war chiefs that the Hurons are our enemies and that we should be done with the men who betrayed our ancestors to adopt the Great Spirit of the white men. There were long discussions before the expedition set out. That’s why it arrived so late in Montréal. That’s why I did not go. I was against the plan.”

  It was so dark and Andoura’s words were so troubling that Radisson wondered if he was dreaming. It surprised him to learn the peace was so fragile, in spite of Pierre Godefroy’s warnings and the many times the Iroquois had changed their minds. Two camps of Iroquois were well and truly facing off against each other. One respected the commitments they had made to the French; the other was plotting to have them overturned.

  “Is Awenissera really with us?”

  “Yes. He is your most faithful ally. But many young war chiefs are muttering behind his back that he is too old to grasp what is happening to us. People are turning their backs on our traditions. Our country is in uproar. Illnesses we do not know are decimating our people. The young people say we must fight back against our invaders. But Awenissera and I believe we must ally ourselves with the French in spite of the risks, and profit from your strength. We have our supporters, but our numbers are dwindling.”

  “You must stay with us, Andoura. You are in the right. We want to trade with the Iroquois. We want them to know our Great Spirit and share his power with you. We want to help you, Andoura.”

  “I always speak in favour of peace. That is my path. Because it is tied to my knife and because you too are for peace, I will one day tell you how I learned to take that path. The same destiny binds us.”

  “It’s true that I am for peace and that our knives seem to be nudging us in this direction, even though it is hard to understand.”

  They both silently considered the impossible coincidence that bound them and pondered what they could do to avoid war again.

  Radisson knew Father Ragueneau well enough to be sure the Jesuits had no ill intentions. He also knew the powers of the French were not as great as the Iroquois supposed. But how could they be convinced?

  “Listen,” said Radisson. “Our knives confirm that we are allies. We must work together to save the peace. After the secret council, I will come to your house to trade and you can tell me what was said. You must let me know what’s happening. That’s the best way to safeguard the peace. The French and the Iroquois can get along. We just need to put up a bit of a struggle to get there.”

  “Very well. But we must act in secret. If it gets back to the partisans of war that I am talking to the French, they will keep me away from the meetings, as they did with Awenissera.”

  “You can count on me. They won’t suspect a thing. Now it’s time to go our separate ways.”

  “May the spirit of the eagle be with you.”

  ***

  Radisson saw Andoura again a few days later in the house of the Turtle clan. When Andoura introduced him to his daughter Lavionkié, who was Radisson’s age, the Frenchman was at a loss for words. He had never seen such a beautiful Iroquois woman. She had big hazel eyes, soft and bright like a doe’s. She wore her long black hair in braids, accentuating the glow of her face. And her slender leather dress enhanced her graceful body. She rummaged around in the package Radisson had just placed on the ground, curious to see all that he had brought with him. She was overcome with delight when she discovered a long piece of cloth, knife blades, and iron scrapers. Radisson could barely tear his gaze away from the girl long enough to speak with her father.

  “I brought along some of the goods we have here, but there is much more back at the French fort.”

  Andoura grinned broadly. He could see that his daughter had caught Radisson’s eye. So much the better. The young Frenchman shared part of his destiny. He was a likeable character and his attraction to his daughter would provide a cover for them exchanging information.

  “Be seated,” Andoura told him. “Let’s talk. I have a few beaver pelts in reserve.”

  Ogienda, Andoura’s wife, moved back a fair distance, but Lavionkié stayed by Radisson’s side. She stared at him intently, not the least embarrassed. The Frenchman couldn’t help but admire her and return her smiles. The negotiation with Andoura did not take long: the cloth, a scraper, and two knives were exchanged in return for two beaver pelts. Radisson threw in a handful of sewing needles.

  “Your mother needs you, Lavionkié,” said her father so that he and Radisson could be alone.

  The two men walked to one end of the longhouse. After making sure that no one could hear them, a serious-looking Andoura summed up in a low voice the decisions that had been made the previous night.

  “Another secret council is to be held on the night of the next new moon. Cayuga and Seneca chiefs will join us. They are all opposed to the alliance with the French. The two Mohawk chiefs who were there yesterday are to return with a Huron who will tell us how the Frenchmen ruined their country. I will take part in the council and shall again speak up for the French. The chiefs thought it best tha
t someone in favour of the alliance be heard to better put things in perspective. But those in favour of war are gaining ground.”

  Radisson listened, his head low. Instinctively, he turned to see Lavionkié waving over at him. She had kept her eyes trained on him and had been waiting for him to look up. Radisson was deeply troubled. He gave her a half-smile. Even though he was happy that the dazzling young woman liked him, the news he had just learned was very worrying indeed. Once he was back outside, he didn’t know what to feel. The situation was too serious not to warn Father Ragueneau right away. He hoped the Jesuit would react calmly—and keep the secret to himself. At any rate, together they would have a better idea of what to do next. Radisson met him at the site where the chapel was being built.

  “Can you come with me for a moment, Father? I have something to tell you.”

  Ragueneau could see Radisson’s concern right away. Without a moment’s hesitation, he followed him outside the village to river’s edge so they could be completely alone.

  “I have just been told a secret, Father. A number of chiefs met last night. They intend to break the peace.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Certain. These chiefs were responsible for killing the Hurons. They are conspiring against us. Andoura told me, and he’s firmly on our side. But we must keep the whole thing a secret if we want to continue counting on him.”

  The Jesuit swallowed his anger. The situation reminded him of his final years among the Hurons just before everything unravelled. Two clans had formed: one for and one against the French. He knew from experience that they would need to tread carefully from now on.

  “This is very serious indeed,” he concluded. “You were right to warn me. But there’s no point panicking. First, we will try to verify what you have learned, as discreetly as possible. If it’s only a few desperados we’re dealing with, we’ll find a way to deal with them. But if a real storm is brewing, we’ll have to find a way out of this predicament.”