Adventures of Radisson Read Online Free PDF Page B

first saw when he woke up pushed away most of the men who wanted to beat him. The men who untied him forced him to sit on a fallen tree trunk opposite the fire. They gave Radisson a chunk of rotten meat that he couldn’t bring himself to swallow, and his queasiness caused great mirth among his captors. Then the Iroquois that appeared to be on his side handed him his own piece of roasted meat and gave him something to drink. Despite the throbbing pain in his head, Radisson managed to chew and swallow a few mouthfuls and his worries receded a little.
    The respite didn’t last long. Without wasting any time, a group of warriors bound him hand and foot and threw him into a canoe. The bloody scalps of his friends François and Mathurin hung before his eyes. Radisson couldn’t stop himself from throwing up as he witnessed a portent of his own death. His captors were doing everything they could to terrorize him. Weak and demoralized, he lay prostrate against the bottom of the canoe. He closed his eyes, prepared to accept the torments his executioners were about to inflict upon him. He scarcely noticed that the whole band of Iroquois was busily paddling west, at an impressive clip.
    When he opened his eyes, after a long moment of uncontrollable terror, Radisson saw, by the pale light of the full moon, the Iroquois who shown him some kindness. The Iroquois was sitting in front of him, right beside the revolting scalps of his friends. He was impressed by the warrior’s muscular build and the strength with which he paddled. To allow him to move more freely, the man untied the rope from around Radisson’s neck and fastened it to his waist. Despite his strength, the young Frenchman didn’t feel up to battling these giants. “Where are they taking me now?” he wondered, noticing they were moving further and further away from Trois-Rivières and his chances of salvation.
    At dawn the Iroquois stopped at last to set up camp at the mouth of a large river that flowed from the south, on a sandy shore perfectly suited to their needs. They beached their canoes and gathered wood for a fire. Here the band camped for three days until another group of Iroquois arrived from the west to meet them. For all of the following night, a good two hundred Iroquois celebrated their success: the other group also had prisoners, two Frenchmen. But they were kept apart and Radisson could only catch a distant glimpse of them now and again. The Iroquois danced around the fire, brandishing in triumph a dozen scalps at the end of long sticks, showing off their deathly trophies with sinister exuberance.
    Over the three days of festivities Radisson slowly regained his confidence. Ganaha, the kindly Iroquois who was in a way his personal protector saw to it that he came to no harm. Though he believed his odds of survival to be slim indeed, hope again began to stir in his heart. On the morning of the fourth day, Ganaha painted half of Radisson’s face red and the other half black. Then, his captors clambered back into their canoes and paddled south, along a broad river. To his great relief, the scalps of François and Mathurin had disappeared.

    N O MORE THAN four canoes and nineteen warriors headed back upriver. The trip went by peacefully. The Iroquois paddled strongly for days on end, making steady progress against the current. At times the river bottom was so rocky and the current so powerful that they had to drag their canoes along by rope from the shoreline to negotiate the rapids. Each time, Radisson did his share, dragging his canoe along. It didn’t take long for him to understand that he would have to show goodwill if he was to escape the Iroquois’ wrath. He would like to learn to paddle as efficiently as the others, he told them. After asking a few times, his keeper finally agreed to teach him how to paddle without tiring himself out. “Keep your arms straight,” he gestured. “Put the paddle into the