The Beothuk Saga Read online

  When Ooish became sick, she did not suffer long. The fever took her in only a few suns. Such medicine as was known on the island was not strong enough to save her. No one understood how a person who had been so strong could, in so few suns, become too weak to fight off this mysterious sickness that was attacking the men and women of the island.

  Jean le Guellec, who as a Beothuk was called Wobee, did not take a new wife when Ooish died. He continued living with the two wives she had chosen for him, and educating the children she had borne him. Badisut the Dancer was taken as quickly as Ooish, and the Malouin found himself alone with his small, fat wife Obosheen, She Who Warms.

  40

  The old, white-haired man, who was the Living Memory of the Beothuk people on the island of the Red Men, sat on his rock beside the beach fire and continued speaking to the young people who had been chosen to replace him as holders of the history of their people. The group who listened to him was composed of a dozen adolescents of both sexes, each of them eager to learn the traditional values and knowledge of the past that would help them in times to come. They let the old man recount his tale of the Beothuk without interruption, so that nothing would cause him to become confused in his telling of the stories of their ancestors.

  “When I tell you of all these hardships,” he said, “it must seem to you that they will go on without stopping, forever. But our people have also experienced hundreds of season-cycles of peace and contentment as well as extraordinary events. When Ooish died, her place was taken on the council by her oldest son, Ahune. He was reasonably well experienced and spoke his mother’s language, also that of his Breton father, as well as the language of the French.

  “Under his governing, a new policy was born. The island was opened to strangers. Eager to know more about the way of life of those from other lands, he decided that we must be more welcoming to the newcomers. The next time a ship entered the bay, Ahune did not prevent the foreigners from landing. He had never known war and the sadness of losing his parents and friends to kidnappers, and so he welcomed the Englishman Martin Frobisher with open hospitality, and traded with him for much iron. Then he accepted Frobisher’s invitation to go on board the English ship, although he took with him an armed escort of twenty guardians, whereupon the same thing happened to him as had happened on the ships of Cabot and Côrte Real: his guardians were overcome and sent ashore on boats, and Ahune alone was taken prisoner by the Englishman. Although we managed to kill five of the foreigners, we lost another of our chiefs.

  “He was replaced by a member of the Otter Clan from the River of Gulls, a man named Gigarimanet the Fish Net. Despite his mistrust of foreigners, he agreed to take in two English couples and three Basque sailors who had been abandoned on our shore by the captain of a ship that was sailing along the coast. It was also during Gigarimanet’s time that a man representing the King of England landed at St. John’s Cove and declared that from then on our island belonged to his king. This was the worst thing that had happened to us. From that time on, our island no longer belonged to us and we had to compete with newcomers for our food. This was the beginning of the war. Whenever our guardians saw a ship entering a bay, they alerted all the island and we chased the ship back to the open sea. Between each attempted invasion, we would have ten, fifteen, sometimes twenty season-cycles of peace. Whenever the peace lasted too long, our young people would begin to criticize our council members. They would reproach Gigarimanet for always making decisions on his own, without consulting the people. ‘When I make a decision,’ he would say, ‘it is because I have given much thought to the matter. If I make a wrong decision, you will have only me to blame. None of you will have to bear the guilt.’ Then he would say, ‘The worst danger is believing that many empty heads are more valuable than one full one.’ When he was criticized for being too lenient in his stand against the English, he would reply: ‘Have we been at peace too long, perhaps? Do we need more battles to remind us how sweet it is to be at peace?’

  “He would also say something that you must remember in the future: ‘Being defeated is bad for a nation. But being victorious is not always good, either. How many lives must we sacrifice to gain a victory before our cries of joy are drowned out by our lamentations for the dead?’

  “These are words that you would do well to remember before you criticize those who prefer peace to war.

  “For a long time our Beothuk people of English origin would go to the peninsula near St. John’s Cove to learn what the English who landed there were doing. One day they told us that the English were planning to place a permanent settlement there, and that the leader of this movement was a certain John Guy. At the end of an unusually warm season, a ship entered Conception Bay and sailors from it built a fortress of pine logs. The logs were placed lying down, not standing up as is our custom. To show our good faith, we left provisions for them for the season of cold and snow, but when the snow melted they left. Two season-cycles later, in Trinity Bay near Eagle Rock, eight fishermen from the Seal Clan met with this John Guy and traded with him, giving him food in exchange for metal tools. One of our English clan members agreed to meet with John Guy at Trinity Bay the following warm season, telling him that all the Beothuk people would be present at this meeting. When the next growing season arrived, eight hundred members of our nation gathered on the shores of the bay to meet with John Guy. When an English ship entered the bay, our people paddled out to meet him in their tapatooks, to accompany his boats to the shore.

  “Then suddenly the eight fishermen who had met John Guy the previous time shouted in alarm that this was not the same ship. The tapatooks tried to return to shore, but they were too late. The ship’s cannons thundered, and despite the attempts by the paddlers to avoid the cannon balls, many of our tapatooks were hit, and many women, children, and elders were killed and drowned. One hundred people in all. Wobee the Malouin, the elder of the Seal Clan, escaped the massacre. He was more than one hundred season-cycles old, but he was still very strong and was able to swim to shore.

  “That was the end of Gigarimanet’s time as chief. He was replaced by his harshest critic, Shéashit the Grumbler. I have been told this part of the tale by Wobee himself. This was the end of the line of chiefs that were descended from Anin, the hero of the island. This Shéashit formed a new clan, which he called the Rabbit Clan, to show how little respect he had for the tradition of the spirit protector. He established this clan on the large Bay of Odusweet, where Anin spent his third season of cold and snow with Woasut, and where his son Buh-Bosha-Yesh was born. It was in this part of the island that Shéashit made his name when he defeated a company of French soldiers that had come to kill all the Beothuk on the island.

  “These soldiers, armed with muskets with long knives attached to their ends, were all dressed exactly alike. They wore leggings the colour of snow and vests the colour of the sky just before nightfall. At first light, when the soldiers were occupied with mosquitoes and blackflies, Shéashit’s men killed seven of them and cut off their heads so that they would not be recognized by their families in the Afterlife. On the second sun, when the soldiers were marching in closer formation, the guardians killed nine more of them, and cut their heads off also. Then on the third sun, twenty-one more soldiers lost their lives and their heads. Not a single surviving soldier had seen a Red Man, and since the blackflies had all but blinded them, they turned and raced back to their ship. Our people had enjoyed a great victory without losing a single warrior. That is the story of the glory and adventures undertaken by our people.

  “Knowing what was to follow, it seems to have been a small victory.

  “The English were becoming more and more numerous in the large bays along our coast, and the strange sickness continued to afflict our people, a sickness for which our herbal medicines and the skill of our medicine men could do nothing. Wobee told us that even in his former country, the medicine men were powerless against this sickness. When a person, usually a female, came down with this strange fever,
she began to vomit and was unable to keep food in her body. After several suns, red marks would appear on her arms, face, and other parts of her body. Then she became very sick and died almost right away. It was at this time that Wobee, who was born Jean le Guellec, was found dead in his mamateek.

  “It was also at this time that the Shanung, also called the Mi’kmaq, pretended friendship with us but were actually in the pay of the Malouins. They cut the heads off four of our guardians who were protecting the southern coast of our island. The Shanung who lived at Bay d’Espoir were our friends, but those from St. George’s Bay we killed. During a feast given by Shéashit and others of the clan that lived on River of Gulls, some children came and told Shéashit that the heads of four of our beloved guardians had drifted in in their tapatooks. Shéashit’s men therefore went out and cut off the heads of fifty-four Shanung, after warning their friends, the Sho-Undamung from the north coast, that this was none of their affair. When the account was settled, the feast was resumed.

  “These same Sho-Undamung invited the Beothuk to come and live among them before they all died at the hands of the English, or the Malouins, or the Shanung. That was when Shéashit conceived his plan, the last chance for the Beothuk. It was becoming quite clear that living close to the sea on the island was too perilous, and so Shéashit convinced the other clan chiefs that their only hope for survival was to attack the English and chase them off the island.

  “Keep these stories in your memories, my young friends, so that the Red Men will live forever. You are the nation’s future. Remember Anin, the ancestor of us all, and you will live forever in the memory of he who was the bravest among us.”

  41

  One morning fifty paddlers in ten tapatooks set out to cross the Strait of Belle Isle, an expedition led by Shéashit to the land of the Sho-Undamung. Each tapatook carried five paddlers carefully chosen by Shéashit: they were the fifty strongest warriors of the Beothuk Nation. Strong, fearless, and so brave that Shéashit himself could hardly hold them back. These were the warriors who had collected the fifty-four Shanung heads during the feast at St. George’s Bay. They were the most devoted of men and the most worthy of confidence.

  The crossing took only as long as it took the sun to reach its highest point in the sky, even though they paddled against a strong wind. If the weather were favourable, the return journey would take still less time, since the wind would be at their backs. For those who do not know the tricks of the wind and the treacherousness of the waters that pass through the strait, this crossing can be a true adventure. But these men had made the crossing before, and to them it was unexciting. It had become easy to travel to the country of the Sho-Undamung, also known as the North Shore Innu. In fact, the crossing was called “the passage to friendship.” The strait was also familiar to the young people, because it was the perfect place to hunt belugas and other whales. During some crossings, the white whales would escort the fleet of tapatooks to the north shore. The Beothuk would then know that the weather would remain favourable for the rest of that sun. It was almost as though the whales brought the good weather to the Red Men of the island. When the mammals remained hidden, it was a more difficult crossing. Whales do not like bad weather and storms, and stay longer under the water.

  On this day, the Beothuk were escorted by two humpbacked whales and two narwhals throughout the whole of the crossing. They were so curious and kept so close to the paddlers that twice the tapatooks almost capsized. However, these incidents brought only shouts of laughter from the warrior paddlers. To them it was nothing but a moment’s diversion. They teased one of the younger guardians, saying he had fallen in love with one of the whales. “Don’t get so excited,” they said to him, “or we’ll all take a bath. If you can’t control yourself, jump in and go for a swim with her, so we can complete the crossing safely.”

  Even though crossing the strait had become child’s play, the warriors had not neglected to arm themselves well. Living Memories still told of the six warriors – in some accounts there were seven – who, a long time ago, had been captured by a French ship. Furthermore, each had prepared for the crossing by undergoing a period of sexual abstinence that lasted half a moon. Then, when they arrived at the large bay at the start of the crossing, the men had gathered before a fire and devoted themselves to Kobshuneesamut the Creator, and asked for his protection for the well-being of the nation. No warrior worthy of the name ever asked the Creator for something for himself. This period of preparation and gathering had been so intense that some of the participants entered into a trance and remained prostrate on the ground for two and sometimes three suns; the others waited patiently for them to come back to themselves, with much respect and without talking. Silence was the rule so long as one person remained in the gathering. During this ritual, no food was eaten and water was drunk only when thirst became overpowering.

  On the night before the crossing, a small ceremony took place during which each warrior received an amulet from each of his companions of the crossing. The amulets were tokens of mutual devotion that united them in case of danger. Each giver of an amulet was promising to come to the aid of all others during the crossing.

  When the paddlers reached the coastline of the north shore, nearly two hundred Innu were waiting for them, chanting and singing. The arrival of visitors was always an excuse for a large feast. They held a macoushan, a sort of feast-for-everyone, after which some of the hardier young people danced until they collapsed from exhaustion. The Beothuk were welcomed with open arms. The Red Men presented a striking contrast to these Sho-Undamung. They were much taller than the Innu, who were small and stocky. The Beothuk’s legs were strong, while those of the Innu or Montagnais seemed weak and short. The Beothuk’s arms were long and muscled; those of the Innu were shorter, but also well muscled. The Beothuk laughed a lot, but were no match in this area for the Sho-Undamung, who laughed constantly, at anything. Nothing seemed to bother them; they were always playing tricks, some of which were outrageous to us but seemed necessary to them to maintain their courage.

  The feasting lasted so long that the Beothuk were unable to return on the same day, as they had planned. The Innu women were very interested in these tall, strong men from the island. Conjugal fidelity was not one of the Innu’s virtues, and many were the moans and amorous groans coming from nearly every habitation that night. The Beothuk were very well treated during their stay among the Sho-Undamung.

  The Sho-Undamung chief’s name was Wapistan the Marten. When he saw so many tapatooks approaching from the island, he thought the entire Beothuk Nation was emigrating to his shores. He had invited Shéashit and his people to come and live among them, and when he realized that this was not why they were coming, he was disappointed. Shéashit explained to him that he wanted the Innu’s help in putting his war plan against the English into action. Wapistan listened to the request without interrupting the son-in-law of Wobee the Malouin.

  The plan was to attack the English colonists from two directions at the same time. The Sho-Undamung would attack from the sea, and the Beothuk from the land. They would cause as much damage as possible to the colonists who were spread out along the coast and on the islands. These colonists had firesticks and knew how to use them. When the firesticks were aimed at someone, that person almost always died.

  “Their weapons are more powerful than ours. They do not even need to come close to us in order to kill us.”

  Wapistan smiled and let Shéashit speak on for a while. Then he said he knew about these weapons; he and his men already had ten of them.

  “The problem with these weapons,” he told Shéashit, “is that we must depend on the French to supply us with powder and shot. And the French make us pay dearly with skins in exchange. One rifle costs fifty beaver skins. A pound of shot is ten marten. A pound of powder, two beavers.”

  The situation was clear: the wise old Wapistan was waiting for the Beothuk chief to make him an offer. Shéashit thought it over for a moment.

 
“We will give you enough skins to pay for the powder and shot you use during the battle,” he said. “We will place these skins at the mouth of the large bay at the beginning of the crossing. How many do you want?”

  Now it was Wapistan’s turn to think.

  “We have ten French rifles and will need enough ammunition for twenty shots from each rifle. We will bring the arrows and spears for hand-to-hand fighting. My men are not as large as yours, but as you know they are all valiant warriors. That makes one hundred beaver skins and twenty seals.”

  “How many men will you send to help us?” asked Shéashit.

  “About a hundred. In twenty-five canoes.”

  “In that case, everything will be ready for the attack.”

  Their conversation continued late into the night. The two men drew up a plan that allowed them to attack simultaneously on all fronts. They decided that the first attack would take place in Notre Dame Bay and on the nearby islands. The time was quickly chosen for the attack, and for the retreat and the many other preparations. There would be a smaller engagement prior to the main attack, in Gander Bay, two days before Notre-Dame, which was exactly one moon away.

  As soon as it was light, the fifty Beothuk paddlers were ready to return to the island. The weather was promising, and all the Innu gathered on the shore to bid safe voyage to the Red Men. The tapatooks were launched, and the westerly wind pushed the men swiftly towards the New Found Land. The crossing was uneventful. One of the tapatooks took on some water, but three of the paddlers chewed resin from the white pine and in a few moments the leak was sealed. Then the water that had entered was scooped out with a bowl carved from a tree knot. No one was worried and the incident was soon forgotten. The same four whales accompanied the paddlers on the return journey. It was suggested to the young warrior who had been teased earlier that his whale was jealous of the Innu women. “You had better calm her down before she tries to get revenge for that little morsel you were with last night,” they told him. “We don’t want to take a bath on your account.”