Mutantism on The March :Chapter 13 “The Unfortunate Arrival of The Frenchmen”

After one particularly exciting voyage with his Abenaki friends south of Lake Champlain, as it is now criminally named, Squid sat at the top of a mountain happily imbibing the beautiful colours of the fall scenery. Then far down the lake he saw it. It was some primitive sailing vessel slowly making its way to the mainland. The Abenaki were also seeing this strange craft and were making an excited ruckus. After an hour or so smaller craft disgorged from the larger craft and Squid and his Abenaki friends discerned some humanoids heading toward the shore. They were singing, waving crosses and flags gesturing in an agitated manner. Squid yawned in a nonchalant manner and made his way to the outskirts of the village. These strangers had already arrived so Squid hid behind bushes and eavesdropped. The newcomers were acting like boors. They were sneering at his Abenaki friends and insulting them. Their language differed from the Cro-Magnon grunts but their actions towards the Abenaki were similar.

Their leader was strutting about like some rare tropical bird dressed in an absurdly flamboyant costume. The Abenaki were somewhat perplexed over the frills and overpowering smell of cologne. The leader was not in a good mood and in an angry tone said (English translation) “This is not fucking China. We are fucking lost”.

Squid, with his superpowered brain deciphered these conversations that these men were from some country called France. He rather vaguely remembered the name of the country and may have indeed visited it previously.

The leader of this band of dishevelled band of white men was called Jacques Cartaway and although he was lost he decided to take his crew on a survey of the area. There was always the possibility of gold which was far more valuable than the huge schools of cod they had encountered. Squid had an uneasy feeling about these strange white men who called themselves “discoverers” for a land and people that had already been there for centuries. These fools had not discovered anything as the land and people had been here at their home before Cartaway and his discoverers had “discovered” them.

The silly and pompous Frenchman stumbled through the bush regularly giving names to landmarks as if they were absolute owners. The Abenaki tribe had no place in their conquest. At each landmarked place black robed men performed strange ceremonies looking to the sky and seeking the blessing of their gods that they now possessed the land. The Abenaki, not quite understanding these silly ceremonies stood and laughed. The black robes were furious at the hilarity of the Abenaki which was insulting to their Christian mores.

One of the black robes Frere Grandvoluer cast an evil eye on the Abenaki and mumbled, “We will be back my savages. You’ll see the errors of your way and we will return to make you see the evil of your ways and we will see whose turn it is to laugh.”

Rather sensing some hostility the Abenaki conveyed the message of their water god Squid living in he mountains. Cartaway and his men laughed at the savage ignorance of the Abenaki.

These Frenchman ascended the mountain of Squid and claimed it as Mount Royal in honour of their king. Squid watching this anti-social behaviour later referred to as colonialism wanted to shove these intruders off the mountain but winter’s savage onslaught accomplished much of what he had wanted to accomplish. The explorers were trapped with the freezing waters.

Against the advice of Squid the Abenaki told these Frenchman they could boil bark in water and avid scurvy. When spring came Cartaway kidnapped chiefs of the Abenaki like some trophies to be presented at Versailles.

The Abenaki were furious and awaited a chance for revenge against the French savages. Squid was melancholic but that was history and history was vicious. He was well ware that colonization in many forms and could only expect worse events to plague his group of friends. So what could he do against an entire Euro civilization.

He announced before his departure later in the summer at a feast in his honour of the water god (himself) that they do not trust these interlopers. As he transformed into a squid and plunged into the waters of what the Frenchmen called Lake Champlain he headed off with a sigh and muttered  “If only they had invented the machine gun. They would have had a decent chance,”

Published by Robert K Sephen (CSW)

Robert K Stephen writes about food and drink, travel, and lifestyle issues. He is one of the few non-national writers to be certified as a wine specialist by the Society of Wine Educators, in Washington, DC. Robert was the first associate member of the Wine Writers’ Circle of Canada. He also holds a Mindfulness Certification from the University of Leiden and the University of Toronto. Be it Spanish cured meat, dried fruit, BBQ, or recycled bamboo place mats, Robert endeavours to escape the mundane, which is why he has established this publication. His motto is, "Have Story, Will Write."

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