Oaky With a Hint of Murder by Dawn Brotherton

Author:Dawn Brotherton [Brotherton, Dawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939696915
Publisher: Blue Dragon Publishing, LLC
Published: 2023-11-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

1770 Hasanoanda

Hasanoanda sat uncomfortably on the seats provided by the White men inside their stuffy canvas tent. The sky outside was cloudless, and a slight breeze kept the heat away. Why these men insisted on conducting business inside this dingy covering was beyond him.

The clan mother had honored his family by selecting Hasanoanda to be the intermediary with these new traders from England. He was still learning their language and had to interject French words to fill in the holes in his vocabulary, but they were communicating well enough for their purposes.

Kaintwakon stood quietly at the tent opening, taking in the discussion. Hasanoanda knew his son was silent for now but would question him at length on their ride home. He was an inquisitive one, always thirsting for knowledge. Soon, he would be sitting in this disagreeable chair, when enough time had passed for Hasanoanda to take his place as an elder.

The White man seated across from him held up a tool for Hasanoanda to inspect. He took it in both hands, turning the shiny object over carefully. The candlelight reflected off the metal.

“For cutting.” The trader mimed sawing something on the table between them.

Hasanoanda touched the edge of the blade gently. A thin slice of red appeared on his thumb. He was surprised, though he made certain not to show it on his face. The Nation had many knives made of obsidian and flint. He had seen shiny knives like these before when visiting other Haudenosaunee nations who had traded with the French, but none quite as sharp as these.

He set the blade back on the table. Silently, he signaled his son. Kaintwakon ducked out of the tent and quickly came back with one dark beaver pelt. He placed it on the table between the men.

The White man ran his hand through the fur, still soft and supple. “That will get you five.”

“I can get ten from the French, not much farther up the river.”

The Brit went through the act of considering it. Hasanoanda knew it was an act because he had seen it many times. The White men always underpriced what they were offered, so Hasanoanda had to exaggerate the value before they finally agreed to a trade that was acceptable.

This dance bored him.

“But it is farther. For eight, I will save you the trip.”

Hasanoanda nodded his agreement.

“I have many more I can trade with you,” the White man said.

“How many?”

“Because I see a long partnership in the future, I will give you forty-five like this for five pelts. That’s more than a fair trade.”

Hasanoanda considered a moment. Genessee would be pleased with a sharp tool like this. It would make skinning much easier and faster. But he didn’t want to appear too eager. “Let us start with thirty for three furs. If they are as useful as you promise, I will see about getting more next time.”

“Five pelts and I’ll throw in three hand axes, a handful of awls, and a couple yards of wool for your wife to try.

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