Adventures of Radisson Read Online Free PDF Page A

dragging, Radisson headed straight along the shoreline, avoiding the obstacle-filled woods that would only slow him down. The walk would be long and tiring, but he was determined to bring his haul home with him, all of it.
    After an hour, Radisson was exhausted. “These geese weigh a ton!” he groaned. He stopped to drink clear, fresh water from the river and rest for a moment. Barely had he refreshed himself when he sensed a presence behind him. He whirled around like lightning— but there was no one to be seen. And yet he still felt danger tying his stomach in knots. Radisson picked up his firearms and geese and broke into a run. He dashed headlong into the woods, took a few strides, and then abruptly crouched down, not moving, hardly breathing, nervous, alert to everything around him. But he heard only the wind in the trees, the birds singing, and the pounding of his heart … not the slightest sound to draw his suspicion. He tried to calm himself. In vain. “I’m tired,” he thought. Images of grimacing Iroquois descended upon him, like flies over a corpse. He must be going mad, he thought; death was shrieking in his ears. He couldn’t take it any longer, left everything right where it was, and crawled away with one musket. He tracked back on himself in a roundabout way, hiding opposite the geese tied up to his shoulder bag, beside Jean Véron’s gun, which he’d left at the foot of a tall tree. “If the Iroquois are about,” he said to himself, “they’re going to come for my spoils.” Then, all he’d have to do was run for his life.
    But nothing happened. For what seemed forever, Radisson froze. Nobody came. He shook his head with all his strength to chase away the bad thoughts that were tormenting him. At last he got back on his feet and went to pick up his geese. He knew he had to make tracks if he wanted to reach Trois-Rivières by nightfall. Nothing could stand in his way. He swallowed the last of his bread and retraced his steps back to the riverbank with his heavy load, then headed quickly along the shore.
    Time flew by without him noticing. He tried his best not to think of anything at all. Just walk as fast as he could. He thought of Marguerite, all the same, and her bright idea of giving him bread for the day. “God bless you, dear sister,” he thought. He felt annoyed at himself for breaking their agreement. “Just so you stay within sight of the fort and François and your friends go with you,” he heard her saying to him again and again, as it sank in just how reckless he’d been. But his ordeal was nearing an end: he recognized the spot where he left his companions. Suddenly he felt much calmer. He promised to give a goose each to François, Mathurin, and the guard that let them out to make amends. There was plenty of meat for everyone. He’d give two to his sister Françoise for the Jesuits, and that would leave two for him and Marguerite. To hell with Jean Véron if there was none left by the time he got back! Too bad for him. Everyone would be happy. All’s well that ends well. He’d learn from this…
    It was then that Radisson spotted two strange shapes lying a little to his left in the long grass. They were not tree trunks, nor animal carcasses. He feared he knew what they were but disbelieving, walked up to… the horribly mutilated, arrow-riddled bodies of François and Mathurin! Horrified, terrorized, he flung his load to the ground and recoiled. He felt sick at the sight of their blood-soaked bodies lacerated from head to toe, their disfigured faces oozing blood. He vomited hard. But he couldn’t take his eyes off their scalped heads, their hair cut sliced from their foreheads then torn off, their bodies slashed with knife wounds, carved up like animals. “Why didn’t they fight back?” he wondered, horrified. “Why didn’t I hear anything? There’s no