Algonquian Words
Cattapeak: spring
Cohattayough: summer
Kwiocosuk: shaman, priest
Mamanatowick: ruler of several villages
Montoac: a mysterious, immediate, and pervasive power beyond and greater than that of humans
Nepinough: earring of the corn season
Popanow: winter
Taquitock: the harvest and the falling of the leaves season
Wassador: copper
Weroance: chief of a village
Weroansqua: female chief of a village or dominant wife of the
village’s weroance
Windigo: cannibal monster (plural: Windigoag)
Characters Mentioned
* historically identified person
Allawa (Pea) – 15, Granganimeo’s daughter and Hurit’s step-daughter
Alsoomse (Independent) – 17, protagonist
* Andacon (Evergreens) – 25, Wingina’s war chief
Etchemin (Canoe Man) – 18, canoe maker and social outcast
* Granganimeo (He Who Is Serious) – 33, weroance of Roanoke
Hurit (Beautiful) – 25, weroansqua. Granganimeo’s second wife
Machk (Bear) – 17, Nuna’s brother, friend of Wanchese
Matunaagd (He Who Fights) – Alsoomse and Wanchese’s father, 35 at time of death, 1579
* Menatonon – 55, mamanatowick of Choanoac
Nootau (Fire) – 20, Sooleawa’s son and Alsoomse and Wanchese’s cousin
Nuna (Land) – 16, Alsoomse’s friend acrosds the lane
Odina (Mountain) – 16, Alsoomse’s friend across the lane
* Okisko – 29, Weapemeoc’s Weroance
* Osacan- 26, elite member of Wingina’s council
* Piemacum (He Who Churns Up the Water) – 25 Pomeiooc’s weroance
* Pooneno – 29, weroance of Matachwen and Tandaquomuc
Pules (Piigeon) – 11, Odina’s sister
Sokanon (Rain) – 18, Sooleawa’s daughter and Alsoomse and Wanchese’s cousin
* Tanaquincy – 28, Granganimeo’s chief advisor
* Wanchese (Take Flight off of Water) – 20, protagonist
Wapun (Dawn) – 12, Nuna amd Machk’s sister
* Wingina –34 mamanatowich
Maps
Sections 2 and 3
Nootau pointed. Wanchese saw high in the cloudless sky large-winged, long-necked migratory birds headed toward the Great Waters. He counted four brown bodies, black legs folded, arrow-straight gray necks extended, the tops of their heads – he anticipated -- red. Brown cranes! A rare sighting!
“Keep paddling,” Andacon ordered.
They had passed Weapemeoc, Okisko’s main village, having stayed well away from the shoreline. Andacon had not wanted talkative fishermen delaying them or – a consequence of Wanchese’s aggression – vengeful warriors attacking them. The risk of either occurrence now behind them, Wanchese anticipated a severe reprimand.
When he had removed his foot from the prone hunter’s head, Wanchese had glanced toward Etchemin’s shelter. The canoe-maker had vanished. As the battered hunter rose to his knees, Wanchese had located the three witnessing hunters, eyes, foreheads, mouths, and cheekbones exuding hate.
“Think before you act!” Andacon had thundered. “Four against three!” His formidable biceps had bulged.
One of the standing hunters had pointed. “He should be whipped! We will allow you to leave after he is whipped!”
“Your brave deserved the attack!” Osacan had answered.
“There will be no whipping, and there will be no fighting unless you begin it!” Andacon had declared.
“Nootau, take Wanchese down to the canoe,” Osacan had ordered. Nootau had immediately seized Wanchese’s left wrist. Wanchese had wrenched it free.
“Do as he says,” Nootau had hissed.
Standing directly behind Andacon, reaching back with his right hand, finding him, Osacan had pushed Wanchese’s chest.
Wanchese had then acquiesced. Slowly, the four of them had retreated, Andacon and Osacan facing the three offended hunters and their suddenly emboldened companion. When they had come to within twenty feet of the landing, Wanchese and Nootau had bolted ahead to push their canoe into the water.
“Get in!” Andacon had ordered, over the noise in the water. “You, Osacan, get in after them! I will push!”
“Ready!” Osacan had said, the three of them having taken up their paddles.
“Now! Decide!” Andacon, standing at the water’s edge, had declared. “Is your certain injury worth your avenging injury done to a bully and coward?!” Bald cypress formidable, he had glared. Satisfied, he had stepped backward into the water, had turned about, and had then pushed the canoe far into the river. Seconds later, as Wanchese, Nootau, and Osacan had paddled, grunting, he had propelled his water-slick, taunt body into the rear of the canoe.
Wanchese had not looked back. Each stroke of his paddle had taken him farther from the danger that he had caused. Leaving quickly the shadows of cypresses and tupelos, they had felt almost immediately the quick warmth of direct sunlight. Minutes later they had become a dot on Occam’s long waters.
They had escaped immediate and delayed attack. They – but not he -- were safe.
Cypress, tupelo, white cedar, and gum continued to line the right shoreline. He saw the trees; he could not see the land. He recognized his crime; he could not predict his certain punishment.
Acting rashly, ignoring Andacon’s order to desist, he had attacked a member of a confederation of villages neither Wingina’s ally nor enemy. He had endangered the lives of his three tribesmen. He had probably killed the canoe-maker. He had given the Weapemeoc an additional reason to dislike Wingina’s people. He had dishonored his father’s reputation.
He would not rise to any position of importance. He questioned only the moment when Andacon would confirm this.
The senior leader pointed across the broad waters. “Over there you can see where the Moratuc enters. At least one of its entrances.” Wanchese saw only marshes, reed vegetation, glints of blue.
“Many entrances.” Andacon scoffed. “May Tanaquincy enjoy finding the right one.”
Ahead of them the broad waters turned sharply right. The distance between the opposite shorelines shortened somewhat. Here enters the Nomopana [Chowan River], Wanchese thought.
“We now enter Menatonon’s territory,” Andacon stated. “We will go closer to this shoreline,” he said, his extended arm’s rippled shadow flitting on the water’s surface. “Much of its way this river goes straight. Then it narrows and bends to the right and then to the left. Choanoac is on the left bank. The sun will be close to leaving when we arrive.”
Lengthy, muscle-aching labor.
“We will make a stop at Ricahokene.”
They toiled. The sun had passed them. Their shadows were stretching toward the shore.
Syncopated grunts.
After awhile Andacon pointed left.
“Look! Metachwen! Look back a little! Tucked in on the little rise of land near the mouth of that swampy creek!”
Wanchese stared. He thought he saw two canoes peeking around the edge of land near the creek’s mouth.
“Pooneno is the weroance. There and at Tandaquomuc, which we also passed. The same side of the river.”
“I cannot see any land along here,” Osacan said. “Never-ending cypress and tupelo.” He laughed. “Nobody would ever find you if you had to hide.”
“The snakes would. The snakes and bugs would.” Wanchese suspended his paddle over the water, hoping he would receive a friendly response.
He heard a quiet chuckle.
The canoe glided.
He sensed, felt … the reprimand might come now.
“The wind is hiding.” Osacan said.
They resumed paddling.
“Who is Pooneno?” It was maybe the fourth time during the voyage that Nootau had spoken. “You said before that Menatonon is the Choanoac weroance.”
“Pooneno is like Granganimeo,” Andacon answered. “Maybe not as loyal. He is not Menatonon’s brother or his son. He is a fierce warrior. So I have been told. Maybe he is like Piemacum. A thorn in Menatonon’s foot.”
He had not been reprimanded! He wondered. How much had he damaged Andacon’s opinion of him? Had he overestimated the harm? He wanted to know! He twisted about. “About Pooneno. Would it be wrong to ask?”
“Yes!” His left hand gripping its middle, Andacon held his paddle still. “We will talk only about Piemacum! And trade. Nothing else!”
Several ring-billed gulls -- white under feathers, black heads, tips of their longest wing feathers also black -- soared overhead, squawked, propelled their bodies toward the western shore. As a boy Wanchese had enticed a ring-billed gull with a morsel of herring to approach within an arrow’s length of his hand. He had eventually tossed the piece and the gull had caught it, gobbled it, and waited a short distance away to be tossed another morsel. A second gull had joined it. Wanchese looked into the cypress-stained, translucent water. No herring swam beneath these waters this time of year as did white perch and spotted bass, wanting to catch smaller fish. If he waited long enough, if the canoe were to drift a bit, he thought he might see one or two. For all it mattered.
When?! He had been foolish to hope. When was he to be rebuked?!
“We paddle now to the other side of the river,” his leader declared.
How far were they from Ricahokene? Both of his shoulders ached. How was Nootau bearing it? But Nootau was accustomed to canoes. He thought of Etchemin, who fished and made canoes but refused to hunt, how that had made him an outcast. Nootau was accepted but because he was not a skilled hunter only partially respected. Wanchese wondered how he would now be judged.
“He gave me fish and a deerskin under me,” he blurted. “He does not kill. Except fish. He does not fight. Because that Weapemeoc hunter knew that he could, he slapped him.” Anger was heating his cheeks, forehead. “Because I had to, I put him on the ground!” The tops of his shoulders tingled.
He heard movement behind him.
Several paddle strokes later, Andacon said, “Sometimes the heart takes command. When it should not.”
3
“Be careful. Do not cut your finger.”
Two dressed deerskin aprons were stretched tightly between separated tree branches set atop two logs. Wapun and Pules were cutting fringes with sharp flint knives.
“This is not how I want it to look!” Raising her head, Wapun scowled.
“It should not look like what you want,” Alsoomse answered. “This is your first attempt.”
“I cannot cut straight,” Pules complained. “I will be laughed at.”
“By girls no better at it than you.”
“All of us had to learn how,” Nuna said. “Stop complaining!”
“Wait until you try to dye in designs.” Odina’s eyes glistened.
“Oh, can we do that?!” Wapun’s eyes turned to Alsoomse. “When?!”
“After you get better doing this.”
Sokanon, carrying broken off lengths of tree branches for the cooking fire, stopped to observe. “Tomorrow I will teach you how to make reed baskets.”
“Does that mean we have to go to a marsh and cut reeds?” Pules asked.
“It does. That is part of it.” Sokanon placed the branches next to the fire. She straightened, and then started.
Granganimeo’s wife Hurit, standing a canoe’s length away in the village lane, was staring at them. She approached.
“Weroansqua,” Sokanon greeted.
Instantly, Alsoomse rose. The back of her left hand covering her mouth, she faced about.
“Sokanon. Alsoomse. You are teaching these children well.” Hurit looked at Wapun and Pules, who were watching her with large eyes. “Is that not so?” she said to them.
“Yes, Weroansqua, they are very good,” Wapun answered.
Pules nodded vigorously.
“I am pleased.” Hurit looked at Alsoomse, then Sokanon. “I have a duty I want you to perform.”
Sokanon’s eyes flitted.
I want both of you to accompany me to Croatoan, tomorrow. To serve me. Together with Allawa, and two other young women.”
Alsoomse’s cheekbones tingled. Her arms felt the rush of adrenaline.
She had expected criticism.
“Both of you appear surprised.” Hurit’s amused smile enhanced her unaffected beauty.
“Weroansqua, we will serve you well,” Sokanon answered.
Hurit nodded. Her face hardened.
“You should know that Croatoan’s weroansqua has asked me to attend a meeting she is to have with Piemacum’s important men, believing, we suspect, that Piemacum wants her to submit herself and her people to his authority.”
Alsoomse felt a second surge of adrenaline. Quick to exhibit temper, her face burned.
The Croatoan were gentle people! Her father Matunaagd had said so, often! For some time now they had been led by a woman, which explained, probably, their peaceful manner. A thought occurred to her. “Weroansqua,” she said, “I believe I know her purpose.”
“Which is …?”
“Your presence will answer Piemacum’s question without the weroansqua needing to give it.”
Hurit nodded, a slow backward and forward acknowledgment. “You are perceptive, Alsoomse. You are your father and mother’s daughter.” She paused, looked at Alsoomse soberly. “But in other ways you are not nearly so. You disturb me.”
Alsoomse’s face blanched.
Sokanon interrupted. “Is Granganimeo to accompany us?”
What other ways? Alsoomse thought.
“No, Sokanon. His or Wingina’s presence would cause a fight.” Hurit’s face softened. “I am to go alone. Men do not usually fight women.”
“We leave then … when?”
“Immediately after the casting of tobacco. Several of our men will take us there in two canoes. They will not be men of high station.” For the first time Hurit looked at Nuna and Odina. “I will need Machk to be one of them. Please tell him.”
“I will, weroansqua,” Nuna responded.
Sokanon made a small hand gesture. Hurit raised her eyebrows. “I will need somebody to look after my mother. She is not strong.” Her face apologized.
“I am certain one of your friends here will do that.”
Simultaneously, Nuna and Odina nodded.
“Then everything is arranged.” Hurit turned, took two steps toward the lane, and stopped. Pivoting, she regarded Alsoomse. “One other matter.” Her eyes examined the length of Alsoomse’s body. “I expect you, Alsoomse, to show your high station the entire time we are there. That means necklaces, Alsoomse. Bracelets. Beads hanging from your ears. You will be representing this village, not yourself. Do you have them?”
“Yes.”
“I should not have to ask.”
“No.” Here was the expected criticism. She felt the start of a second burn.
Hurit studied her, too lengthily.
The burn reached Alsoomse’s ears.
“Why do you do this? Are you not proud of your parents’ standing?” Hurit looked at Alsoomse’s legs. “No tattoos, not even on your calves. Your cousin has them” – she pointed – “there, and there, and on her arms. She wears a nice shell necklace. Polished bones hang from her ears. Every day. Why must you be so different?”
She wants to know; I will tell her!
“We are different people.”
“That is obvious.”
“I love my cousin.” Alsoomse’s eyes combatted Hurit’s sarcasm. “I respect her for who she is. It is not because she is my cousin or she is the daughter of parents of high station. It is because of who she is.”
“We all judge people that way.”
“I know some who do not. Also, some people of high station expect to be treated well but do not deserve it.” She was thinking of Askook.
Hurit’s left index finger touched the outer side of her left breast. Her fingers curled, became a fist. “Are you saying that people who are leaders, who take responsibility for the welfare of their followers, should not be treated with respect?”
“No, weroansqua, I do not.” Both sides of her face were hot. “I am saying that people like me born into high station should have to earn respect, not demand it. That is why I live here, outside the gate to the compound. I do not want anyone to believe I demand respect.”
Alsoomse moved her right foot forward, traced a line in the sandy earth. “I believe also that people not born of high station deserving respect should receive it.”
Fists pressed against her sides, Hurit studied her. “You are outspoken in your beliefs.”
“I spoke them because you asked.”
The flesh beneath her chin stretched, Alsoomse maintained eye contact. Peripherally, Odina and Nuna were figures of stone.
Hurit’s irises remained centered. “You should know, Alsoomse, that there are people in this village, and at Dasemunkepeuc, who believe that you are dangerous. Strong-headed dangerous. My husband has spoken of it. Our kwiocosuk has spoken of it. You risk punishment, from Kiwasa, from your leaders. I will expect you to keep your thoughts to yourself while we are at Croatoan. I have … tolerated your independence, until now. I must be certain that you will say or do nothing to damage our purpose.” Her eyes bored.
“Your answer?”
She would be truthful, not weak. “I respect you and all of our leaders. I will do nothing to hurt our people.”
“You will wear ornaments that signify your station?”
Alsoomse hesitated. “Yes, weroansqua, I will.”
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