The Incredible Escape. The Adventures of Radisson 3 Page 7

  To start with, Ragueneau suggested no one other than the Jesuit missionaries be warned. Radisson would first advise Father Le Moyne back at the fort. Father Le Moyne would then travel the country to ask the four other priests on the mission for more information. He would ask them in a roundabout way, without hinting that they had gotten wind of a plot being hatched. Radisson would be able to protect his precious source. They would know more within a moon or two.

  “We’ll inform everyone after that,” concluded Ragueneau. “Now go. Bring this corn back to the fort as quickly as you can. We need it very much. I’ll take care of finishing the chapel while you talk to Father Le Moyne. Nice work, Radisson. Now don’t breathe a word of this to anyone!”

  Before leaving the village with the others carrying the corn, Radisson passed by the Bear longhouse to see Ononta and Mahatari. Perhaps he might learn something there. He was in such a hurry that he walked right in. Mahatari was alone. Radisson could immediately sense that he was interrupting something.

  “I’m here to speak with Ononta.”

  Mahatari took a while to answer.

  “Hello, Orinha.”

  She did not even turn around.

  “Is he here?”

  “No. He’s at his cabin. You mustn’t disturb him.”

  Radisson was taken aback at her brusqueness.

  “OK then. I’ll come back later.”

  Mahatari was grinding plants in a small mortar. He walked over to her.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  She did not answer, a sure sign that he was.

  “You said I would always be welcome here.”

  “You are. But some days less than others.”

  “How come?”

  At last she made an effort to smile at him. Then she picked up her work where she had left off without saying a word. Radisson stayed by her side until she gave in and spoke to him.

  “Ononta is annoyed that the French sorcerer is moving into the village to take his place.”

  Radisson couldn’t contradict her. Ragueneau and the other Jesuits were doing all they could to discredit the Iroquois shamans.

  “That’s nothing to do with me,” he replied. “Anyway, your council authorized it.”

  “I know. But you’re often with him.”

  “He needs me because I know the Iroquois well. I’m trying to help him understand you. It’s not easy. I came to ask Ononta if I could stay here for a while. I don’t want to stay with Ragueneau in the small home they’re building for him behind his chapel. I feel much more at home here.”

  “You can come visit me from time to time, but you can’t sleep here any longer. Ononta is too angry.”

  The threat was clearer now. Radisson was losing a guide, and the French had another enemy.

  “I’ll go sleep at Andoura’s house then. I don’t want to be with Father Ragueneau all the time. I’m not like him. Look at me: I’m wearing one of the feathers Ononta gave me.”

  “I know. I felt it when you came in.”

  Radisson was no longer surprised at how much she was able to divine. She and her husband had special powers.

  “Go on,” she said. “They’re waiting for you. You’d better leave if you want to reach the fort before nightfall.”

  “I’ll come back and see you, Mahatari.”

  “My door will never be closed, Orinha. But going to stay with Andoura is a good idea. Your heart will find love there. Now go. And be careful.”

  The slaves and the Huron women made up the convoy carrying eighty-seven large baskets of corn and ten of beans. Radisson walked at the front with two heavily armed Iroquois warriors. The rest followed behind in single file on the path that led from the village to the fort. Some twenty more armed warriors mounted guard at regular intervals and brought up the rear. Because no one would dare steal the corn right in the heart of Onondaga country, it seemed as though the men and women carrying the baskets were prisoners and the warriors were there to ensure they did not escape.

  The group arrived at the fort a little before sunset. Commander Dupuys, who had been sent word the day before, had hastily ordered tents to be put up inside the enclosure so that everyone could be given something to eat along with a bed for the night. The Iroquois took the opportunity to give a handful of old muskets to the gunsmith and to take back others that he had repaired.

  That evening, after Father Le Moyne had blessed and comforted the Huron women, Radisson went off with him to the Jesuits’ apartment. Outside, the fires lit by the Iroquois and Hurons burned so brightly that there was no need for candles: they could see each other in the light filtering in through the windows. Radisson made sure they were as discreet as possible so as not to arouse the suspicions of Commander Dupuys or other Frenchmen. Father Le Moyne had never met Radisson in private before.

  “Things are looking bad, Father Le Moyne,” Radisson told him. “I have learned that the Iroquois want to break the peace.”

  He had expected a sign of despondency from the Jesuit, but Father Le Moyne remained quiet and impassive. Radisson explained to him that opponents of the alliance with the French had made their voices heard as soon as the emissaries returned from Trois-Rivières that previous winter. Those who wanted to kill the Hurons had gained the upper hand. Now building the chapel had angered them.

  Simon Le Moyne listened reverently. He knew the young man was close to the Iroquois and that his information was reliable. He feared the Huron scenario was about to repeat itself.

  “They held a secret council several days ago and another is planned for the next new moon. Mohawks, Cayuga, and Seneca will be taking part. Hurons are also coming to tell them how the French destroyed their country. The war camp is still growing, Father. It’s very worrying.”

  Simon Le Moyne nodded. He was an optimist by nature and had often been gladdened by the great progress made since the first day when the Iroquois welcomed him to Onondaga, but the cold reception some chiefs continued to reserve for them left him fearing that an abrupt change of mind was still possible.

  Radisson told him that Ragueneau wanted to make only the Jesuits aware of the situation; he was counting on them to investigate and see just how far rumblings of discontent had spread. He wanted Father Le Moyne to leave immediately and bring them the news.

  “I will leave tomorrow,” said Le Moyne. “I will also be sure to encourage and reward our allies. It is thanks to them that we are so well settled today. And it is perhaps they who will have the last word. Let’s not lose heart.”

  “Andoura will speak up for us at the next council. We can count on him.”

  “We have others on our side throughout this land. I will be sure to leave them a gift or two as I travel around. You will also need to recruit more sources. I know a hateful man who strikes me as a good candidate. His name is Ouatsouan. He’s a brother of Awenissera and he is incredibly jealous of his influence. He speaks ill of everyone behind their backs and fawns over them when they’re near. He is bound to be in favour of war, if only to oppose his brother, but he is so greedy he should be easy to bribe. He knows absolutely everything; he wriggles his way in everywhere like a grass snake. You will have to be careful, naturally, but if you name your price, he will tell you the truth.”

  “We will have to step up trade to hide what we’re up to.”

  “Indeed. That is a good thing, in any case. The Iroquois are often complaining that we don’t have enough goods to offer them. That can only help our cause. Speaking of which, weren’t we supposed to give them a vast amount of powder in exchange for the corn?”

  “That’s what was agreed.”

  “Nothing could please them more. If God breathed fire like a cannon, if he had swords for arms, if his body were a giant roll of cloth, they would all have converted a long time ago! Unfortunately, what we’re offering them is rather less concrete; we’re going to have to be patient if we are to lead them along the path of faith.”

  Father Le Moyne was again lost in his thoughts. The
light from the distant fires danced across his face, giving him a dramatic look.

  “Let’s just hope they don’t use this powder to kill us…”

  ***

  Only the stars lit up the cool night. A handful of chiefs from the Onondaga, Mohawks, Cayuga, and Seneca, wrapped up in their wool blankets, made their way discreetly to the Bear clan house. They walked in one by one for their secret meeting. The Iroquois were still trying to regain their balance after years of uninterrupted disruption. The Frenchmen arriving among them had only heightened the tension.

  Takanissorens, the Onondaga chief chairing the council, believed it was time for the discontent felt by many to reach the ears of those in favour of the alliance with the French. They had to face facts: their dominance was now being contested.

  Takanissorens asked Andoura to speak first since the decisions to be made would have serious consequences and the position that had prevailed for the past two years should be heard. Andoura reminded them that the French had given the Onondaga all the goods they desired. They repaired their muskets and respected their customs, as the Iroquois had wished. They kept their promises and counterbalanced the Dutch, who had given so much to the Mohawks.

  “Why turn our backs on them now?” Andoura asked. “Because they want us to know the Great Spirit who makes them so powerful?”

  One of the two Hurons present was bursting with impatience as he listened.

  “Don’t you see their Great Spirit is malevolent? He’ll bring about your downfall just like he did ours,” he exclaimed as soon as Andoura had finished. “The Blackrobes have only one thing in mind: they want to destroy the Iroquois just like they destroyed the Hurons! Kill them or send them packing before it’s too late!”

  “Tonneraont should wait until it’s his turn to speak,” Takanissorens intervened. “Does Andoura have anything to add?”

  “The Iroquois are better behaved than the Hurons,” Andoura replied. “Tonneraont and Tsondacoué are fortunate to be attending this meeting. If the Seneca had not adopted them, they would still be wandering around like stray dogs. Just remember, Tonneraont: it was the Iroquois who vanquished the Hurons, not the French. You are no match for us.”

  The Seneca chief accompanying the Hurons began to speak.

  “Tonneraont and Tsondacoué are two of the hundreds of Hurons who fought the French before they lost their country. If there had been more of them, perhaps they would have been able to save it. We are glad the Hurons were able to become good Iroquois. They are our brothers now. It would be wise to heed their warning.”

  “Your Huron brothers hate the French more than anyone,” Andoura replied drily. “I agree their naïveté should be a lesson to us all. Let us squeeze more out of the French without allowing ourselves to be led by them—as they led the Hurons, who only have themselves to blame.”

  Ononta the shaman interrupted angrily.

  “We should never have let the Blackrobes build a chapel in Onondaga! Awenissera has made a grave mistake in letting them settle among us. We should have stood our ground, despite their threats. Now that their Great Spirit is among us, the danger is greater than ever.”

  Takanissorens tried to restore order.

  “Everyone will have a chance to speak. Please, wait your turn. Tsondacoué, tell us how things went in your country.”

  The second Huron was calmer than the first. He spoke in a serious voice, looking at each of the chiefs in turn.

  “We have always been a great nation,” he began. “For generations, we have reached out to our partners. Our presence has been welcomed to the east, west, north, and south of our country. Our words have found an audience everywhere. When the Frenchmen arrived, we became allies because we have always been keen to trade and because they had so many goods to offer us, goods we did not know and that were precious to us. As the Iroquois know, this alliance bore fruit. In the beginning, it helped us find new partners and expand our influence. We were stronger. Then the Blackrobes settled among us. As soon as they arrived, they wanted to change our customs. They had a way with words; they were powerful and convincing. Many listened to them. They renounced our ancestors and learned to worship their Great Spirit. That’s when everything changed. Disease ravaged our people. Everywhere, chiefs, warriors, women, and children died in hundreds. Our shamans were powerless to keep the evil at bay. The French would not listen to us. They did as they pleased. Then the Iroquois struck. They wiped out our nation when it was but a shadow of itself. Now the Hurons have been scattered to the four winds. That’s what the Blackrobes have brought us…”

  Tsondacoué had finished speaking. A heavy silence fell on the assembly. Seen in this light, the drama the Hurons had been through seemed inconceivable. And yet everyone knew that Tsondacoué was telling the truth. They also knew that such drama could happen again. The French posed a terrible threat.

  Ononta broke the silence.

  “Disease has already struck us down, and our spirits are powerless to cure us. We need to send the Frenchmen on their way while there is still time.”

  “The Dutch, too, brought disease to the Mohawks,” Andoura retorted. “And yet you don’t hear our brothers complaining. Far from it. The Great Spirit of the white men wishes us no harm; it can also be helpful and kind. Look at yourselves. You’re all wearing a blanket that the French or Dutch exchanged for your furs. The Mohawks scoff at us with their Dutch muskets. How many victories have iron weapons brought us? How much effort have iron tools spared us? The Great Spirit of the white men is also working for us, my brothers. Let us not turn our backs on the French because the Hurons let themselves be taken in. Let us be wiser than they and restrict the French influence without forcing them to leave.”

  “Nonsense!” exclaimed the Mohawk chief who had been urging the Onondaga to break the peace for weeks. “Andoura is confusing everything. Our fathers imposed their will on the Dutch with their arms. Now the Dutch stay home in their villages and do what the Mohawks tell them. You must do the same with the French. You must vanquish them and show them who’s in charge. The Mohawks will show you the path to follow. Do as we do. The Onondaga behave like women. They allow themselves to be led about by the nose and their attitude leaves us open to great misfortune. If the Onondaga are afraid of the French, let them call on the Mohawks, who will show them the path to victory. Because a Mohawk fears nothing. He is the most powerful of all.”

  Takanissorens grimaced as he glanced at the Cayuga and Seneca chiefs who had not yet spoken. They could no longer bear the Mohawks’ arrogance and had met the previous day to agree on the message they wanted to convey. The other chiefs gave a slight nod to show that Takanissorens could express their point of view.

  “It is not the first time we have heard this story from Osweati,” Takanissorens began firmly. “We have heard it from the mouths of plenty of Mohawk chiefs who consider themselves to be masters of the Iroquois Confederacy. We have had enough. The Mohawks are too vain to realize that they are the ones threatening the League of Five Nations through their pride and injustices. Are you speaking on your nation’s behalf, Osweati? Who gave you the mandate to spout such nonsense? Give me the names of the chiefs who insult us through your words.”

  Osweati tried to reply, but Takanissorens cut him off.

  “Be quiet. Listen to what we have to tell you. Because I am speaking on behalf of the war chiefs from the other four nations of the Confederacy. This is what you can tell your Mohawk brothers.”

  Takanissorens—the bravest and most successful Onondaga war chief—was not going to be talked down to by anyone, especially not in Onondaga, which had always been the centre of the Iroquois Confederacy.

  “The Mohawks are not wise enough to understand why we welcomed the French among us. Or perhaps they’re pretending not to understand. Know that all of us—Onondaga, Seneca, Cayuga, and Oneida—invited the French because our Mohawk brothers have been turning a deaf ear to our pleas for years. Less than a moon ago, the Frenchmen gave us more powder than the Moh
awks ever have. The French repair our muskets, while the Mohawks couldn’t care less. The French give us more furs than the Mohawks who claim to be our brothers but keep everything for themselves. Osweati is threatening our Confederacy with great misfortune if the Frenchmen stay among us. He is mistaken. For too long now, the Mohawks have been trying to dominate us, in spite of our traditions. For too long now, the Mohawks have been looking down on our brothers and looking to reduce them to slaves. You, Osweati, you are even arrogant enough to demand that we send the French on their way under the command of the Mohawks, while the French give us everything we need to destroy the Mohawks. Listen very carefully. While we continue to discuss matters of concern to us, you are going to return to your nation and tell all your war chiefs, all your peace chiefs, and all your clan mothers that if our Mohawk brothers do not undertake to give us equal access to the Dutch goods, if they do not agree to regain the place that is theirs within our Confederacy—keepers of the eastern door, and not the centre door or the door at the top—well then the Mohawks can prepare for war. Contrary to what you believe, we do not fear the Mohawks or the French or the Dutch. If your nation does not mend its ways, we will destroy it like we destroyed the Hurons. The League’s other four nations will at last have access to all the goods they desire from the Dutch, or the French, whichever they prefer. I am giving the Mohawks one moon to reply. If not, then war it is. Now go. We have much to work out among ourselves.”

  ***

  Despite everyone’s delight in spending Christmas together at the French fort, the information the missionaries and Radisson had come back with had been a blow. Each missionary had identified in his village one or more chiefs who were openly hostile to the French. Baptisms in particular were met with more and more fear and disapproval since they were viewed as a means of casting a spell on the Iroquois.