Warbird Read Online Free PDF Page B

overhead. Then, he staggered backwards in surprise when he looked up and saw a huge arched structure overhead. It was the Huron longhouse.
    Rows and rows of bent saplings met at the top. Large sheets of bark, held in place by criss-crossed branches, filled in the sides. Smoke wafted from a hole, which ran the entire length of the roof. Etienne stood in awe as the smell of burning wood and roasting fish filled his nostrils.
    A small naked boy pushed past a swinging doorway of bark, rubbing his eyes. Etienne watched as a long-hairedwoman in a sleeveless skin dress followed. She looked at Etienne but did not speak The woman emptied a basket of red berries onto a large sheet of bark and spread them about. Then she put the basket down. Taking up a thick wooden pole, she placed it into a hollow tree stump. As her arms rose and fell, she made the thumping sounds Etienne had heard earlier. The small boy held on to her fringed skirt as he stared at Etienne.
    A movement caught his eye before he could see what she was pounding, and he turned to see an older boy watching him from behind a stack of bark casks. He was slightly built, and his skin was the colour of earth. He wore his shiny, straight black hair to his shoulders, parted in the middle. A woven grass cord kept it out of his eyes.
    Except for a flap of cloth between his legs, all he wore was a necklace of beads.
    Etienne couldn’t help but stare at the long rectangular piece swaying as the boy approached.
Is this all he wears to cover his manhood?
Then he saw the pouch of cloth behind the flap.
    â€œ
Onywatenro
?” the boy said in a questioning voice.
    Etienne smiled and nodded several times. He knew what it meant.
    As the boy moved closer, Etienne smelled dry leaves. The boy’s hair gave off a smell he couldn’t name.
    â€œTsiko,” the boy said, tapping himself on the chest.
    Etienne realized the boy was telling him his name. He tapped his own chest and spoke in a shaky voice. “My name is Etienne.”
    The boy smiled. He ran to the woman, picked up oneof her baskets and brought it back.
    Etienne peered in and saw a mound of red berries.
    Tsiko nodded.
    Etienne grasped a handful and stuffed them in his mouth. The warm, sweet-sour flavour that burst into his mouth surprised him. He gave a huge strawberry smile.
    â€œThomas,” a deep, booming voice called. “Thomas, come here.”
    Etienne looked about to see who Master Gendron was calling.
    The Huron boy smiled at the puzzlement on Etienne’s face. “I have two names,” he said, “and one is from your God.” He tapped his chest with great pride. “My Christian name is Thomas.”

SEVEN
The Grand Council
    From dawn to dusk, the week of the full moon, more Jesuits arrived at the fortification.
    Small bands of Huron trailed behind, clad in an odd assortment of French-style coats, skin vests and fringed breeches. The native men seemed to have dressed for the occasion.
    One wore the brim of a hat, with feathers taking the place of the crown. Another wore his head shaved but for a single line of hair down the centre. Some had shaved their hair on one side, leaving the hair on the other side as long as their shoulders. Necklaces of shells, beads and claws glinted in the sun. Behind the men, women staggered beneath the weight of their bundles and baskets.
    Etienne and Nicholas, the stocky young apprentice to the carpenter, were both hauling water from the well. Two men in large-brimmed, low-crowned black hats entered the gates deep in conversation.
    â€œWho are they?” Etienne asked.
    â€œThe one with the full beard is Father Jean de Brébeuf,” Nicholas replied. “He has the gift of the Huron tongue.”
    Etienne regarded Brébeuf’s neatly trimmed hair, dark beard and piercing eyes. He was not tall, but he had a commanding presence. Father Brébeuf, seeing the boys, smiled and waved.
    â€œFather Brébeuf is well loved in the