Part 35 (1/2)
I feel a great blackness between us, Ottawa, yet we have no quarrel. And I have a mission so I must put these thoughts out of my head. The future will come whatever I think or feel. My only course is to follow the dream. ”There was a hawk,” he began, ”and a river of blood.” He told of the little birds and the white bear and the white wolf.
Pontiac listened without speaking. When Cormac was finished he asked, ”And the waking dream? What was that?”
”It came to me after I had fasted and meditated for many days. If the French could be driven from the north country, the place they call Canada, all the Anis.h.i.+nabeg could have that as their homeland. The English could stay here in the south, and we would both live according to our own laws and customs. And both would survive because of the separation.”
Pontiac turned his head and looked at the woodlands surrounding them. Dusk had drained the fiery autumn color from the leaves, but the beauty of the place was still apparent. ”You would give the dog t.u.r.ds all this?”
”I would give them what is necessary to allow the Anis.h.i.+nabeg to survive.”
The Ottawa nodded. ”In that, I agree with you. There is no doubt we are fighting for our survival. Only those who see no farther than the tips of their fingers mistake this war for anything else.”
It was time for the hard choices to be made. Cormac picked up one of the Suki beads and placed it in the open palm of the hand he stretched toward the Ottawa. There was just enough light left to see the carving. ”Papankamwa, the fox. I wish Pontiac to accept this. If he does, it will be his forever.”
The Ottawa did not take it. ”In return for what? In the old days Suckauhock was used as we use wampum. Is my little brother asking me to accept a war belt?”
”It is a no-war belt. I am asking that Pontiac lead his braves and his people to where they can wait for the end of the war between the French and the English. And that he take this as well.” Cormac picked up the bead that was carved with the spider symbol and placed it too in the palm of his outstretched hand. ”Bring it to Alhanase, the Huron war chief who also fights with Onontio. Tell him what I have told you, and ask that the Huron, like the Ottawa, retire from this war and leave the Cmokmanuk to kill each other without our help.”
”So that in the end we can all go to the frozen land of ice and snow and the Cmokmanuk get our homeland.” Pontiac spread his arms wide to indicate the woods of the Ohio Country where his ancestors had been since the Great Spirit put them on this earth. ”In the end the dog t.u.r.ds get what is ours.”
”In the end we survive.” Cormac could feel in his belly that Pontiac did not believe in the meaning of the dreams. He was in turmoil, but despite what he felt and the length of time he had held out the hand offering the Suckauhock, Cormac's arm did not tremble. He held it steady, as if he were pa.s.sing it over Potawatomi the Sacred Fire, proving the strength of his manhood. ”The fox and the spider are for the Ottawa and the Huron. I myself will take the rac.o.o.n to the Abenaki.”
”And you think they will make you welcome and agree to do what you ask?”
”I think they will rejoice at the thought of land they no longer need to share with intruders who bring them disease and trouble and wars not of their making.”
”But there will still be Cmokmanuk here. The English are to remain, according to your dream.”
”Not in Canada. It is a vast place. There is room for all of the Anis.h.i.+nabeg to hunt in Canada.”
”It is a frozen place,” Pontiac insisted. ”Mostly snow.”
”Not all the year and not all of it. And the hunting is magnificent.”
Pontiac made a sound in his throat that represented a grudging sort of agreement. ”The sickness, and the white man's goods that the Real People now believe they cannot do without ... knives made of metal not flint, clothing of cloth not skins, firewater, none of that will have gone away.”
”Those Anis.h.i.+nabeg who wish to continue to trade with the Cmokmanuk will do so. We must make a new way for the future, Elder Brother. We cannot change the past.”
”And the other beads?” Pontiac was looking at the four beads on the blanket.
”They are for the Lenape and the Kahniankehaka.”
”s.h.i.+ngas and Scarouady,” Pontiac said, knowing immediately the chiefs Cormac had in mind. ”Who will speak to them? Not you, I think. Uko Nyakwai?”
”He knows them better than you or I.”
Pontiac turned his head and spat on the gra.s.s. ”He is not even half Anis.h.i.+nabeg.”
”He is a full Potawatomi brave by adoption. That has always been our way. Does Pontiac deny the right of a tribe to adopt whom they will?”
Pontiac didn't look at Cormac, but he shook his head. He couldn't deny truth.
”You know that Uko Nyakwai wears the amulet given him by the great chief Rec.u.msah, your uncle. Whatever your quarrel with my brother the Red Bear, it is not-”
”My quarrel is that he is Cmokman. And English.”
Neither fact could be denied. Better to let go the matter of Pontiac's animosity toward Quent. His arm was on fire, still stretched in front of him; he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold the position, but if he put down the beads he had conceded the advantage. ”The Anis.h.i.+nabeg can survive in Canada. If we remain as we are, the French and the English will crush us between them.” They were Quent's words, but Cormac knew none better.
Pontiac continued to ignore the offer of the Suki beads. ”For your plan to succeed the English must win this war. Even if both sides fight without our braves, how can you be sure of that?”
”The English have more men and more guns and more food and-”
”And they fight for more,” Pontiac said quietly. ”They fight for the right to land, and for the English, land hunger can never be satisfied.”
”They will agree that we have Canada,” Cormac insisted. ”If it means they must fear no further attack from any of the Anis.h.i.+nabeg they will agree. Does Pontiac agree?” The Suckauhock was still on offer in his outstretched palm.
”Is it enough,” Pontiac asked softly, ”to say I will try to see how this thing can be made to work?”
Cormac did not hesitate. ”It is enough.”
Pontiac reached over and took the two beads. Cormac's palm was empty, but he did not immediately drop his arm. ”My Elder Brother is sure?”
Pontiac watched the hand that remained stretched out toward him. He spoke slowly, knowing the test was not over until he said the final word, wondering how much longer the metis could hold out, half wanting him to fail, half impressed with his strength. ”Your Elder Brother is sure that he will examine this thing in all its parts, and try to make it real. The north for us. The south for them.” Pontiac hesitated as long as he dared. If he forced the trial beyond its natural limits it no longer counted for anything. ”I will try,” he said at last.
Cormac dropped his arm. It throbbed and quivered from wrist to shoulder, but that didn't matter now. He was as light-headed as if he had already achieved the final victory. Cmokmanuk in the south, Anis.h.i.+nabeg in the north. Blessings on the Great Spirit and his white wolf totem and Miss Lorene's Sunday morning Jesus G.o.d. He had maintained his Potawatomi honor, and possibly enlisted a powerful ally.
Neither man said anything while Cormac returned the other beads-the turkey and the elk and the possum and the rac.o.o.n-to the Miami medicine bag and replaced it around his neck. The bag felt different, lighter. When Cormac got to his feet he nearly stumbled. Pontiac paid him the courtesy of pretending not to notice.
The rich odors of the cooking fires made Cormac's mouth water and he looked forward to the meal. Stewed beaver, from the smell and the last of the season's fresh corn. He was being treated as an honored guest and the Ottawa were known as fine cooks. It was said they flavored their food with dried sumac, but when squaws of other tribes tried the same tricks they did not produce the same taste. The Ottawa cooks had secret-Ayi!
Corm saw himself lying on the ground at Singing Snow with the Midewiwin priestess leaning over him. Because the leaves of a tree turn red in the time of the Great Heat Moon does not always mean the tree is a sumac. That's what she'd said and neither he nor Bishkek had known what she meant. Now he did. A thing might look like one thing but have an entirely different taste, because in reality it was something else. The brave who attacked him in the sweat lodge had looked like a Huron and smelled like a Huron, but that didn't mean he was a Huron. Perhaps he had disguised himself as a snake because that was what he wanted Cormac to think. ”Ayi! It could be so.”
He didn't realize he'd spoken out loud until Pontiac turned to him. ”What could be so?”
”Nothing. I was just thinking that in dreams, sometimes things are not exactly what they seem to be.”