I was content to just take the canoes for our village.
Calling all the warriors together I spoke to them. “My fellow Chiefs and Warriors, we have won a great battle here today, one that will not be forgotten in years to come. Never before has a battle been so decisive and one-sided by an Algonquin force. It will be sung and talked about in our lodges for years. Now we will take all of the dead enemy warriors and pile them down by the river on a stack of wood and burn them. The stench of their bodies will travel in the wind to all our enemies, and they will know that the Omàmiwinini people are a strong and powerful nation. We will then throw their ashes into the river. Let it take them back where they came from.”
With that, all our people let out a song for the dead of the Otaguttaouernin people who had lost their lives at the hands of the Hochelagans. That night we would dance and sing and torment our captives. In a few days our allies would leave to go back to their family units and I would send out runners to bring our people back. The existing members of the raided village would stay with us until the summer when all the tribes met to trade and talk in council. Then they would go back with another family of the Otaguttaouernin if they so desired. The surviving captives would pay for what they had participated in.
14
The Aftermath
AFTER THE BATTLE WITH the Hochelagans, we sent hunters out to find game. They did not disappoint us, and came back with a moose and a deer.
We feasted, drummed, and danced for many days with our allies from the battle that had stayed to share in the celebrations.
The survivors of the Ottaguttaouernin village told us what they had suffered at the hands of their attackers. All their men had been killed, except for the three who had been rescued with the women and children. The Hochelagan captives were subjected to burning sticks and hot embers upon their bodies. Using clamshells we cut off their fingers to prolong their agony. If a warrior lost his fingers he couldn’t draw a bow, hold a knife, or paddle a canoe.
The chief who had led the war party here was made to run the gauntlet. All the women and children of the raided village, our allies, and my family group lined up on two sides. We spread burning coals on the ground and stripped the chief naked. As he stood at the entrance to the gauntlet he sang his death song. When he was done singing, he started his run. Everyone in the line had sticks and clubs. As the man ran on the coals he was struck repeatedly by all the tribal members in line. The Hochelagan was a brave man. Not once did he cry out in pain. When he reached the end of the line he was bloodied from cuts and his feet were seared from the coals. We then gave him to the women, who took him and finished the job of torturing him until he died.
The women cut out his heart at the end, and it was given to the man who had captured him. The people then decided that the other six captives would also run the gauntlet. If they survived, we would then give them one canoe with two paddles and let them leave. Five of the Hochelagans survived. Very few of them had any fingers left and they all had been beaten and burned. The women cauterized their wounds, and then they took them down to the river, put them in a canoe, and shoved off. With few fingers on their hands to paddle, they would probably die on the river. If they didn’t die and they did make it back to their village in Hochelagan they would likely starve to death, unless their relatives took pity on them and fed them. With few or no fingers they wouldn’t be able to hunt or defend the village. They would become a burden to their people. It doesn’t matter how good a warrior or hunter you were, if you ceased to be a person who could contribute to the well being of the village anymore, you were shunned. Everyone had to participate in the survival of the tribe. There are no idlers allowed. If somehow these men could make it back to where they were from and could help with the general welfare of the camp, they would survive. However, these men would still be considered outcasts. They came back as failed warriors. No fingers, no captives, no spoils of war and the loss of over thirty warriors in the land of the Omàmiwinini, branded as pariahs forever.
Failures like that would bring death and destruction on their village. No village could survive for long if it lost that many hunters and warriors. For a camp to survive the men had to be able to hunt. This was a bad omen to the conquered. It would be a long time before the Hochelagans would try to come to our lands again to make war.
In the course of the next few days Minowez-I, Pangì Shìshìb, and Ajowà Okiwan left with their warriors. Before they left, I told them there would be news about one of my family members in the next moon, when all the Algonquin tribes gathered for the summer meetings. With that I sent Makòns and Miskwì to bring back our women, children, and elders. Hopefully we would have peace for the summer and all would be safe.
15
The Wedding
THE BATTLE FOR THE captives and to save our village had been one full moon ago. Since that time all the people had come back to the village and continued on with their everyday lives. The men and boys were busy hunting and fishing. The ogà (pickerel) were now running down the smaller rivers to the big river that we call the Kitchi-Sìbì. The men would spear the fish from their canoes or use weirs and nets. Women then made wooden racks and smoked the fish over a fire. After this was done, they dug a deep pit and covered the bottom with grass. Then they put bark over the fish and filled in the pit. We then had fish when we needed it. It didn’t keep for a long time in this pit, but long enough for our people to enjoy the food for a month or so until we caught more.
When the Hochelagans had raided Kwìngwìshì’s village, they had killed her father and brother. Now all that remained of her family was her mother. Wàgosh very much wanted to marry Kwìngwìshì. With the death of her father and brother, he really had no male to approach to ask permission. The three surviving warriors were not direct uncles but men who had married into her band.
Wàgosh approached Pijakì who was the village Shaman. He asked Pijakì how he should go about getting permission for his marriage to Kwìngwìshì.
Pijakì said, “Wàgosh, since Kwìngwìshì’s mother Kàkàskanedjìsì (Nightingale) is not your zigosis (mother-in-law) yet, you can still talk to her directly. With no male relatives, I say that you can ask the mother, but if you do get married you will not be able to talk directly again to your mother-in-law.”
“Thank you, Pijakì. I will ask her mother and hope for the best.”
When Wàgosh approached Kàkàskanedjìsì to marry her daughter she did answer him — by saying yes.
When I found out that there would be a wedding I said to Wàgosh, “Brother, you have gained two women to do work in your lodge and the good part is you only will have to talk to one of them. How good is that?
“Wàgosh, because they have no close relatives or village family unit left, you will be able to stay with us once you are married. All my brothers will be close at hand. That makes our band much more powerful. Our band still has other women who will be getting married, and they will bring in more warriors who will strengthen our family division.
“Now, brother, I will send runners to the other villages to tell them that when we gather in another ten suns we will be having a marriage to celebrate along with the Minòkami Màwndwewehinge (late spring call together).
“I will also arrange for the hunters to go out and provide for this great feast! We will have to make some more fish weirs and nets. There will be many mouths to feed. You make me very happy, brother. I will announce to the village that my brother Wàgosh will take a wife.”
Now that the wedding had been announced, the couple had to choose four sponsors who were older, well-respected people. The
