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
Alsoomse (Independent) –17, protagonist
* Andacon (Evergreens) – 25, Wingina’s war chief
Askook (Snake) – 21, Hurit’s brother and enemy of Alsoomse and
Wanchese
* Ensenore – 53, Wematin’s brother and Wingina and Granganimeo’s father
* Eracano – 30, Wingina and Granganimeo’s brother-in-law
Gilbert, Humphrey – colonizer who dies at sea, 44 at time of death
* Granganimeo (He Who Is Serious) – 33, weroance of Roanoke
Kimi (Secret) – Alsoomse and Wanchese’s dead sister, 4 at time of death, 1575
Kitchi (Brave) – Alsoomse and Wanchese’s dead brother, 11 at time of death, 1580
Machk (Bear) – 17, Nuna and Wapun’s brother, friend of Wanchese
* Manteo (To Snatch) – 22, son of Woanagusso, weroansqua of Croatoan
Mingan (Gray Wolf) – 21, Dasemunkepeuc warrior
Nootau (Fire) – 20, Sooleawa’s son and Alsoomse and Wanchese’s cousin
Nuna (Land) – 16, Alsoomse’s friend across the lane
Nuttah (My Heart) – 17, flirtatious enemy of Alsoomse
Odina (Mountain) – 16, Alsoomse’s friend across the lane
* Piemacum (He Who Churns Up the Water) – 25, Pomeiooc weroance
Powaw (Priest) – 31, Wingina’s kwiocosuk
Pules (Pigeon) – 11, Odina’s sister
Skow (Sour) – 16, enemy of Alsoomse
Sokanon (Rain) – 18, Sooleawa’s daughter and Alsoomse and Wanchese’s cousin
* Tanaquincy – 28, Granganimeo’s chief advisor
* Tetapano – 27, ekute member of Wingina’s council
Tihkoosue (Short) – 13, Granganineo’s son and Hurit’s step-son
Ussac – 17, friend of Askook, former friend of Wanchese
* Wanchese (Take Flight off of Water) – 20, protagonist
Wapun (Dawn) – 12, Nuna’s amd Machk”s sister
Wematin (Brother) – dead mamanatowick, brother of Ensenore, 50 at time of death, 1579
* Wingina – 34, current mamanatowick and Granganimeo’s brother
Commentary:
Some explanation is needed here to avoid subsequent reader confusion. First, locate on your map the villages Pomeiooc and Panauuaioc. The Algonquian weroance of Pomeiooc is Piemacum, who is rebelling against Wingina’s authority. Panauuaioc is the capitol village of the Pomouik tribe. It was at Panauuaioc in 1579 that Wingina’s uncle and important Algonquian warriors including Wanchese’s father were tricked into meeting with Pomouik leaders to consumate a peace agreement and were murdered. The Pomouik have remained enemies of Wingina’s confederation of villages since. Another tribe, the Neusiok, is mentioned in what you will read. That tribe (not labeled) is located in the southwest portion of your map. Not only is Wingina and his council members concerned about Piemacum’s disavowal of obedience to Wingina. They fear that he intends to persuade other villages in Wingina’s confederation to join him in his rebellion and that he may additionally establish an alliance with the Pomouik.
Map
Part One
Alsoomse was attempting to outlast her partner and twelve paired dancers gyrating in a large circle between seven Kiwasa face-carved posts. Alsoomse’s Dasemunkepeuc partner leaped, twisted, twirled, rotated. The rhythmic sound of pebbles, corn kernels, and fruit pits inside the hollow gourd that each dancer’s right hand shook compelled her to dip, twist, hop, and leap, all the while waving in front of and behind her a tobacco branch grasped in her left hand. Each male dancer brandished in place of a tobacco branch a lengthy arrow. Outside the circle, on the village lane, six dancers -- crouched single file -- waited.
This was the second time that Alsoomse had been one of the dancers. It was her favorite activity of the fall corn festival. She had not, did not aspire to be, one of the three naked virgins clutching one another as they adjoined the circle’s center post. Contrary by nature, physically strong, not maidenly slim, she abhorred the objective of many girls her age of being leered at by virile young males amongst whom might be a future husband. It was the rhythm of the gourds and the release of kinetic energy and the feeling of communion with the Real People that roused her to release her gratitude to the Great Spirit for the successful harvest and for her robust health. As she danced, she thought of her father, of his many kindnesses up to her twelfth cohattayough; of her mother, whom she very much wanted and whom nobody could replace; of her younger brother – foolish, impetuous Kitchi – two cohattayoughs younger, whose spontaneous antics had often caused her to laugh; of her sister Kimi -- four cohattayoughs younger -- who had followed her and copied her, had never found fault with her, had died of a fever at the age of four. All, but Wanchese, were gone.
The dancing gave her cause to venerate their existence, mourn their deaths, feel joy that they witnessed her from their place beside Ahone, the Creator. Her dancing was an essential part of the necessary whole. It was a manifestation of her people’s respect for both their family members and their leaders – alive and deceased. It was a demonstration of their gratification for possessing montoac, that spiritual power so essential for combating life’s cruelties. To not dance would be to disdain all whom she cherished, her people’s traditions, her aspirations of life, her reason for existence.
Spiritually fulfilled, she desired now food and companionship. She would not take a crouching position for a third time at the end of the line of waiting dancers. She would find her friends Nuna and Odina, and, maybe, Machk and Nootau, feasting on bear meat, turtle, venison, pumpkins, melons, beans, corn, and squash.
That morning Ensenore, Wingina’s father, had prayed to the Great Spirit. Every villager and guest had sat about the large ceremonial fire to hear his words.
“We thank the Great Spirit that we are here and able to praise Him. We thank Him for creating men and women and requiring them to multiply.”
Ensenore was half-priest, half-weroance. He wore the garment of a priest: a short cloak of fine quilted hare skin with the hair outside hung from his shoulders to the middle of his thighs. His head was shaved except for a fringe of straight-standing hair that fanned across the top of his forehead and the crest of hair that covered the very back of his scalp. Rabbit bones hung from his pierced ears. He did not live apart from the village as Dasemunkepeuc’s kwiocosuk Powaw did tending Kiwasa’s temple, guarding the corpses of the elite, and keeping the temple’s perpetual fire burning. Ensenore was Wingina’s most important worldly as well as spiritual advisor, as he had been for his brother Wematin, Wingina’s uncle and mamanatowick predecessor.
“We thank Him for making the earth and all its products that give us life. We thank Him for the water that comes out of the earth, for all the animals, for the branches that grow shadows for our shelter and for all the forests.”
Alsoomse had studied the lines in Ensenore’s forehead, the crevices that framed his mouth, the parallel lines that circled his neck, the lines that stretched across the base of his weather-worn throat. He was old, fifty cohattayoughs, she guessed, older than most every man she had known, but healthy, quick with thoughts, skilled with words.
“We thank Him for the thunder and lightning that water the earth and the light that works for our good and the dark that allows us to sleep. We thank Him for the bright spots in the skies that give us signs. We give Him thanks for our harvests. We thank the Great Spirit that we have the privilege of this joyous occasion.”
Ensenore deserved respect.
She thought that Nuna and Odina had probably helped in the food preparation. She would stop at the several fires to speak to friends she had know during better times, before her family had moved to Roanoke. At one of these fires, if invited, she would sit, eat, and reflect on favors granted and desires not – her wish that Sokanon had crossed the shallow waters with her because she needed to be noticed. Participation in the upcoming game of ball in which a team of men competed against a team of women would have accomplished that. Sokanon needed to escape for a time the burden of caring for her mother, whom the village kwiocosuk had not been able -- with his communications with the spirit world and with his mixture of roots and herbs – to fully regenerate.
Alsoomse knew what Sokanon was experiencing, having borne the same burden tending her mother: the daily, fatiguing ministration; the expectation of irretrievable loss; afterward, the disquietude of determining who she should be and what she should forfeit. Had she, Alsoomse, been entirely unselfish, she would have taken her cousin’s place; but she had not, the least reason being her certainty that Sokanon would have declined her offer.
Anticipating the friendly greeting of past friends, Alsoomse approached the first of the five cooking fires. Seven or eight girls and boys close to her age, seated on and standing behind a large log, were waiting for the meat and vegetables already cooked to be placed on platters. She saw in their midst Askook, two eye-blinks before he recognized her. Not averting his eyes, he whispered to the young man, Ussac, standing beside him, Ussac, who had once imagined himself one of Wanchese’s friends! Seated in front of the two were Nuttah and Sokw, of Roanoke, girls her age who believed they privileged each day the air they breathed. She would walk past them.
“There goes the goose that waddles so much she cannot walk straight,” Ussac said, laughing.
“Her back-end is definitely big enough,” Nuttah said.
“Like Nuna’s and Odina’s. No surprise they are friends.” Sokw made her familiar sour expression.
Askook looked at Alsoomse, raised his eyebrows, winked.
Looking straight ahead, passing them, Alsoomse said: “How long did it take that welt to heal?” She heard no response. “Have you told them how you got it?”
She had silenced them. Young males like Ussac, too proud of themselves, and girls like Nuttah were not a problem. It pleased her that they knew this. Askook’s malice was different.
#
Inside his longhouse Wingina was conducting an informal council. Attending were his brother, Granganimeo; his brother-in-law, Eracano; his father, Ensenore; three of his best warriors, Tetepano, Andacon, and Mingan; Manteo, the son of Croatoan’s weroansqua; Granganimeo’s closest advisor, Tanaquincy; and Wanchese. Wingina and Granganimeo were smoking long-stemmed clay pipes. Flashes of the great fire outside danced on the nearest matted wall. Soon to be twenty cohattayoughs, Wanchese recognized that he was the youngest man present. Most had seen twenty-five cohattayoughs; Wingina, Granganimeo, and Eracano at least thirty; and Ensenore more than fifty. He was gratified that he had been included and hopeful his presence foreshadowed advancement. He would be a respectful listener. If asked, he would be a deferential fact-giver. He thought it highly unlikely that these mature men would solicit his opinion.
Eschewing preliminary words, Wingina addressed their problem. “With the growing season ended, we must focus on our difficulties with Piemacum.” Removing his pipe stem from his mouth, Wingina glanced at his brother, then at his war chief, Andacon.
Ensenore nodded. He lifted his haunches off the long bench he shared with his two sons and son-in-law, afterward settled himself.
Granganimeo began. “Piemacum is your age, Andacon. He is too ambitious for his loin skin. He wants power more than he wants two or three wives.”
Andacon frowned. “Do not connect my two wives with Piemacum’s intentions. Concentrate on his plans to take away our trade!”
Wingina nodded.
“I believe he wants an alliance with the Pomouik,” Tanaquincy volunteered.
“We do not know if that is true.” Wingina raised his pipe, looked briefly at its stem. “But we should assume that.”
Manteo half-raised his right hand. The large turkey feather embedded above his forehead bobbed. “Piemacum wants friendship with the Neusiok. It follows that he needs an alliance with the Pomouik.”
Wanchese watched Manteo out of the right corners of his eyes. He had had little acquaintance with this rather tall, self-important-behaving Croatoan. What he had seen of Manteo he had not liked. Interjecting himself into this discussion with information that Wingina probably knew was an attempt to gain stature. It contributed nothing to solving Wingina’s problem.
Wingina nodded. “How do you know that?”
“He has spoken to my mother.”
“Then I will need to speak to her.” Wingina frowned, folded his arms slowly across his chest. “She should have told me.”
“He visited her four sleeps ago. I came here especially to tell you.”
“Deliver to her, then, my gratitude.”
Manteo’s upper torso straightened. His face revealed ever so briefly – Wanchese interpreted – self congratulation.
“What is it you propose we do?” Ensenore asked. He moved his knobby left hand down the front of his quilted cloak. “Start a war? If he has Aquascogooc with him, he has more warriors. My kwiocosuk and I need to confer with the spirits. We must please Kiwasa, whatever we choose to do.”
“I would not do otherwise, father. But I must do something. Piemacum is the immediate problem. But for him, his people and the people of Aquascogooc and Secotan would bow to my authority.” Inhaling deeply, he gazed at his subordinates’ attentive faces. “I want to hear your suggestions.”
Wanchese had a suggestion. Put an arrow in Piemacum’s throat. But that would enrage his people, not win their allegiance. Wingina had to defeat Piemacum – kill him -- in battle or devise some way to cause Piemacum’s supporters to judge him unworthy.
“We who live beside the Great Waters must be one people. We need to think alike, be alike, benefit each other.” Wingina released a stream of smoke. “We are strong only if we are one. Our enemies where the rivers run fast are a greater threat to us than are the Pomouik. Piemacum does not understand this. Or he does not care. I ask again for your wisdom.”
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