Algonquin legacy, p.1
Algonquin Legacy, page 1
Copyright © Rick Revelle, 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purpose of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.
All characters in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Editor: David L. Pretty
Cover designer: Lawrence Stilwell
Interior designer: Magdalene Carson RGD, New Leaf Publication Design
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Title: Algonquin legacy / Rick Revelle.
Names: Revelle, Rick, author.
Series: Revelle, Rick. Algonquin quest novel.
Description: Series statement: An Algonquin quest novel | Text in English. Includes some text in
Algonquin, Huron, Mi’kmaq, Mohawk, and Susquehannock, with English translation.
Identifiers: Canadiana 20210216999 | ISBN 9781459755499 (softcover)
Subjects: LCGFT: Novels.
Classification: LCC PS8635.E887 A79 2021 | DDC jC813/.6—dc23
ISBN: 978-1-459755-51-2 (EPUB)
Dundurn Press
1382 Queen Street East
Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4L 1C9
dundurn.com, @dundurnpress
Dedicated to:
James Favel and Susan Chief
and
the Rest of the Winnipeg Bear Clan Patrol,
Protectors of the People
In Memory of:
Willie Bruce
Oshkaabewis
Aboriginal Veterans Autochtones
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Foreword
Algonquin Legacy
Prologue
The Storm
The Journey
The Ordeal
The Dog Man
To Kill a Legend
The Power of the Crow
Old Friends
Death Comes with a Wind
The Niitsitapi (knee-tisit-ta-pe e)
The Great Beast
Defending Our Right to Live
Winds of Change
Escape
Starvation
Reunions
The Collision of the Present, Future and the Sorrow of Death
The Blackfoot Camp
Anishinaabe, Cree and Hohe Camp
Winnipeg, August 20th, 2011
Winnipeg Press, Sunday Edition, August 21, 2009
Epilogue
Glossary and Pronunciatiuon Guides
Algonquin (Omàmiwinini) Glossary
Algonquin Pronunication Guide
Anishinaabe Glossary
Anishinaabe Pronounciation Guide
Assiniboine – Hohe Glossary
Blackfoot Glossary
Blackfoot Pronounciation Guide
Cheyenne Glossary
Cheyenne Pronounciation Guide
Cree Glossary
Cree Pronounciation Guide
Mi’kmaq Glossary
Mi’kmaq Pronunication Guide
Selected Resources
Preview to The Elk Whistle Warrior Society
Praise for The Elk Whistle Warrior Society
About the Author
Foreword
After I Am Algonquin was published in 2013 and then Algonquin Spring and Algonquin Sunset followed in 2015 and 2017 respectively, this book will be the last in the Algonquin Quest Series. The series follows the evolving migration of the Anishinaabe from the east coast of Turtle Island to the vastness of the prairies. During the time of this migration you have followed how they survived and prospered through hunting, loss of life, making alliances and warding off the great nations of the Haudenosaunee, the Lakota and the powerful Blackfoot Nation.
The Anishinaabe people are many nations. In my novels they are Mi´kmaq, Omàmiwinini and the confederacy known as the Three Fires: Potawatomi, Odawa and Ojibwa, who I call the Anishinaabe in my novels. Through the guidance of the Seven Prophets, they made the great migration west and split off along the way, becoming the Three Fires communities around the Upper Great Lakes at the end of their journey. Their last migration was west of Lake Superior, where they became the Saulteaux, or Plains Ojibwa.
This last novel will introduce you to two new Native nations and their languages: the Blackfoot and the Cree. These tribes were traditional enemies who were trying to live and survive on the vast lands of the western prairies, competing for the huge buffalo herds that roamed from the southern grasslands to the northern prairies. Pre-contact, these herds numbered sixty to seventy-five million but, by the 1890s, European buffalo hunters, killing for buffalo robes, reduced the great herds to less than five-hundred animals. This slaughter was also encouraged by the governments of the day to deprive the “Horse Cultures,” the Nations of the Great Plains, of their traditional food source, drive them off their lands and onto desolate reservations. During the time of the buffalo, the Indigenous people were a formidable foe to the US Army, and the only way they were defeated was to kill off the buffalo and slay their immense horse herds.
I wrote about a Lakota buffalo hunt in Algonquin Spring and you will read about another here, this time by the Blackfoot. Each tribe went about it in different ways, but always for the same result: survival. A story cannot be written about a Plains Native nation without them hunting this great mammal.
I would like to thank the website All About Bison for supplying the story about the Buffalo Rock, as told by George Bird Grinnel in 1920. Miigwetch. https://allaboutbison.com/natives/blackfeet/
Today, all these aforementioned Native tribes survive and retain their cultural links to the lands they still live on. They are trying to rescue their heritage and languages from the painful experiences of the Residential Schools era, which became a brick wall in our cultures. My books are historical fiction about real Native nations and how they lived. The culture, hunting and warfare that you read about in these novels are based on hours and hours of research. I have read over 125 non-fiction books and visited every major museum between Newfoundland and Manitoba and in the USA mid-west. You can travel to every single place I talk about in my novels.
Now sit back, grab a berry tea and read my final book of the Algonquin Quest Series and enjoy. Miigwetch!
Prologue
After the battle of Crow Wing Island, fifteen summers ago, most of the Anishinaabe warriors and their women, led by Zhashagi (sha-sha-gee: Blue Heron) and his brother Omashkooz (oh-mush-goes: Elk), made the decision to go towards the setting sun and live with their friends the Omashkiigoo (oh-mush-key-go: Cree). It is here that the surviving family members of the brothers, Mahingan, Kag, Wàgosh and Mitigomij, made the decision to part ways.
Anokì (uh-noo-key: Hunt), his dog Nij Enàndeg (neesh; en-nahn-deg: Two Colour), his sister Pangì Mahingan (pung-gee mah-in-gan: Little Wolf) and her husband Ki´kwa´ju (Wolverine), were the only ones from their family unit to make the decision to go with the Anishinaabe. Elue´wiet Ga´qaquis (el-away-we-it; ga-a -gooch: Crazy Crow), the fierce Mi´kmaq warrior, also went west, followed by his Mi´kmaq friends Jilte’g (jil-teg: Scar) and E’s (s: Clam).
The ones that returned to the Omàmiwinini homeland along the Kitcisìpi Sìbì (Ottawa River) were Anokì’s last remaining uncle Mitigomij (mih-tih-go-mesh: Red Oak) and his black panther Makadewà Wàban (ma-ka-de-wa wah-bun: Black Dawn), his mother Wàbananang (wa-ba-na-nang: Morning Star) and their chief, the two-spirited woman Kìnà Odenan (key-nah; o-de-nan: Sharp Tongue), who was still mourning her female partner Agwaniwon (uh-gweh-nee-won: Shawl Woman). Her lifelong male friend and guardian Kànìkwe (kaw-knee-kwe: No Hair), Anokì’s twin cousins and their pregnant wives, Makwa (mah-kwa: Bear) his wife Àwadòsiwag (uh-wa-dow-she-wag: Minnow) and Wàbek (Bear), and his wife Ininàtig (e-na-na-dig: Maple), accompanied the group going back to the eastern lands of the Omàmiwinini.
Never before had the family split up like this. It was a sorrowful time when they parted ways, but the future always holds surprises.
Since the Battle of Crow Wing Island, the dead warriors from that day are gone with the mists of time, with their names no longer mentioned. Along with Zhashagi and his brother, the aforementioned parts of the family unit accompanied them towards the western sun, along with another 130 Anishinaabe men, women and children. During the first three summers, they had lived near the Omashkiigoo (oh-mush-key-go: Cree) people. They became valued allies and taught the newcomers how to hunt the animal they called paskwâwi-mostos (buffalo) ᐸᐢᑳᐧᐃᐧᒧᐢᑐᐢ. These huge animals kept them fed, and their carcasses supplied the people with hides to make lodges and clothes, as well as bones for weapons and utensils, along with everything else that helped the Anishinaabe survive. The Omashkiigoo also took them out on Sâkahikan (sag-a-he-gan Wînipêkohk: Lake Winnipeg) ᓵᑲᐦᐃᑲᐣn ᐄᐧᓂᐯᑯᕁ and showed the travelers from the east the best places to fish.
After the first seven summers, the Anishinaabe community had grown to over 100 lodges and 421 people, of which there were 83 warriors. The decision was then made to move away from their
During the summers after their battle with the Lakota on Crow Wing Island, they had now become a strong nation of western Anishinaabe. Built up after 15 years of relative peace and plenty in this new country, the Omàmiwinini, Anishinaabe and Omashkiigoo now numbered over 600 strong and could easily field 130 warriors. The Blackfoot were a constant threat, and there had been a few skirmishes with them over the years, but never an outright war. Their hunting grounds intersected at spots, but between the plentiful buffalo and the surrounding lakes to keep them in food, there was plenty enough for everyone. The Blackfoot would not eat fish, so the lakes were a peaceful place. Trade with their allies gave them other types of furs and items that they did not normally have access to, and life was good for the time being.
The language spoken by the community had evolved from a mixture of Cree and Anishinaabe (Ojibway), which they called Oji-Cree. Since they would talk in both Cree and Anishinaabe, the reader will have to distinguish who the speaker is and what language they are using. When an Anishinaabe person speaks, it will be in their own language and the same goes for a Cree or a Blackfoot person. Glossaries are at the back to help you along the way, Miigwetch. Many times, when they do talk to each other, it will be with hand language, unless the tribe had a captive that spoke Cree or Blackfoot and could translate.
The Storm
Anokì:
We started out on the morning of namegosi-kìzis (October Moon). The sun shone brightly and the sky was as blue as I have ever seen: no clouds and just a whisper of wind. The occasional grasshopper that had survived the early morning frosts jumped up and cast its tobacco-coloured spit at our feet as we rustled through the long prairie grass. The fall chill had already eliminated the biting insects that buzzed around our heads a few weeks earlier. The melting morning frost dampened the slowly-dying grasses and the mustiness of the aging vastness before us was the only aroma on the whispering winds.
I thought back to when we had arrived in this flat, vast area towards the setting sun. With Zhashagi and Omashkooz’s leadership, our small group had grown and flourished. Three years after arriving here, I had married an Omashkiigoo woman called Osk-îskwêw (Young Woman in Cree). Osk-îskwêw had been brought up by her grandparents; her mother had died at childbirth and her father had been killed in a battle with the Blackfoot shortly after her birth. By marrying her, I also took on the responsibility of her grandparents. They were wonderful people, and both have passed away in the last few years.
Osk-îskwêw gave me two wonderful and healthy children. During the first year of our life together, a girl was born. Her grandmother gave her a Cree name, Wâpikwan (wah-pi-kwan: Flower), and then a boy was born the following summer. He was so large when he was born that his grandfather also gave him a Cree name, Môso (moo-so: Moose), because the old man said he would become as big and strong as a moose.
It was impossible to leave the village without the two of them wanting to come along. They were constantly at my side, always wanting to learn the ways of the hunt and the lands around us. Both of them were tall for their ages, lean and sinewy. Wâpikwan was approaching twelve summers and becoming a beautiful woman. Long-haired and almost as tall as me, she was skilled in hunting and in tanning the hides of what she slew. Osk-îskwêw had taught our daughter all she needed to know about making clothes, cooking and the duties of the women, but she was also skilled in the world of male responsibilities.
Môso was big for his eleven summers, already taller than I was and among the tallest boys in the village. His sister watched over him like a mother dog over a young pup. She taught him the skills of the hunt that she had learned from me and Elue´wiet Ga´qaquis – (el-away-we- it;ga-ah-gooch: Crazy Crow). Even though Môso was larger than the other boys, they sometimes tried to see how far they could push his easy-going demeanor. When this happened, his sister was quick to show them a smouldering within her that no-one in their right mind would want to ignite. The older children soon realized that she was someone you wanted on your side as a friend.
Even though Môso was shy and not aggressive, the other village boys soon came to realize that his sister was looking after their well-being more than his. This occurred one summer day when Crazy Crow gathered all the young boys together and organized running, archery, wrestling and swimming competitions. To the amazement of all the others, Môso won every event. Wâpikwan won all of the same events that Crazy Crow had organized for the girls, and likely would have embarrassed the boys if she’d been allowed to compete with them. I think he sensed that this would happen, so he ran two separate competitions.
After that day, Wâpikwan and Môso had a following among all the young children who looked up to the siblings. Those close to Wâpikwan and Môso in age considered them to be leaders among their group.
I awoke from my daydream as my daughter said to me, “Where do you want to spend the night, father?”
Amazed that I had walked so far lost in my thoughts, I stood there, wordless.
“Father, did you hear what I just said?”
I could hear Môso laughing and saying, “I think he was sleep-walking sister. Jab him with your bow to get his attention!”
“Okay, children, no need to make fun of your father when your mother is not here to defend me.”
We all started to laugh, and I grabbed both of them and squeezed them around the shoulders. “I became lost in my thoughts of how the two of you have grown and become so respectful of your Elders, so do not disappointment me!”
“And, yes, I heard you, Wâpikwan. This is as good as any place to camp. We have some cottonwoods to shield us from the elements and the Asinii-bwaan Ziibi (ah-sin-nee-bwan zee-be: Assiniboine River) here for water. This spot is also shallow enough to let us cross in the morning.”
I have found myself losing my Omàmiwinini language, talking more Anishinaabe and Cree and mixing everything together. When I talk to my children, I try to talk to them in the language I grew up with.
With no bugs and our enemies, the Ayaaj-inini (Blackfoot person, people), out hunting buffalo on their ranges west of here by two or three suns, this was a wonderful time of year for us to hunt. We already had ours a few weeks ago and it was very successful. Our people have been in this land for fifteen summers and we have learned to use the buffalo hides to make our lodges. We now had thirty of them, which sheltered one-hundred and fourteen people. When we split off from the summer gathering to go to our winter camp, our community was the smaller of four. Out of this number, we had thirty-two warriors who fed and protected our village.
The Ayaaj-inini have never attacked our village because of its seclusion and also because we are surrounded by our Cree allies. Every seven or eight moons, one or two hunters will disappear from a hunting party, which we attribute to running afoul of a small Ayaaj-inini warrior groups on the prowl. The Blackfoot are a dangerous and powerful enemy that we try to give a wide berth to. Our Cree friends, though, have been continually fighting this powerful nation long before we appeared and I predict that our future will hold larger skirmishes with them.
When we left, the women were still tanning hides and drying meat. Wâpikwan had worked very hard with her mother and Osk-îskwêw gave her permission to leave with myself and Môso to seek some antelope. We had six dogs with us and my children were as skilled as any of the adult hunters. My wolf dog, Nij Enàndeg, had passed on many moons ago, but these six were his five sons and a daughter. These loyal, fierce war dogs were also great trackers and relentless hunters.
As I looked at my children, I knew that my father would be proud of his offspring. Môso was the image of his grandfather, Mahingan. Possessed of the demeanor of her grandmother, Wàbananang, Wâpikwan was quick and decisive when it came to defending her loved ones. It was good to be alive and see my ancestors in my offspring!
