Old men sat solemnly round a central fire, smoking their calumets in
silence. Radisson was ordered to sit down. A coal of fire was put in
the bowl of the great Council Pipe and passed reverently round the
assemblage. Then the old Huron woman entered, gesticulating and
pleading for the youth's life. The men smoked on silently with deep,
guttural "ho-ho's," meaning "yes, yes, we are pleased." The woman was
granted permission to adopt Radisson as a son. Radisson had won his
end. Diplomacy and courage had saved his life. It now remained to
await an opportunity for escape.
Radisson bent all his energies to become a great hunter. He was given
firearms, and daily hunted with the family of his adoption. It so
happened that the family had lost a son in the wars, whose name had
signified the same as Radisson's--that is, "a stone"; so the Pierre of
Three Rivers became the Orimha of the Mohawks. The Iroquois husband of
the woman who had befriended him gave such a feast to the Mohawk braves
as befitted the prestige of a warrior who had slain nineteen enemies
with his own hand. Three hundred young Mohawks sat down to a collation
of moose nose and beaver tails and bears' paws, served by slaves. To
this banquet Radisson was led, decked out in colored blankets with
garnished leggings and such a wealth of wampum strings hanging from
wrists, neck, hair, and waist that he could scarcely walk. Wampum
means more to the Indian than money to the white man.
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