A fool hardy Canadian, Pierre Esprit Radisson was a gluten for adventure. For those who enjoy the quiet fireside at home, it’s impossible to understand such men as Raddisson. With the help of his brother in law he pushed on west into the Great Lakes area, and possibly on to the Mississippi.

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In later years Raddisson wrote the story of his life that facinated the civilized world. He probably was not a great writer to begin with but it he had stuck to French which he spoke and understood, it would have been more understandable. Instead he set down his story in English, which he did not understand very well, and a wild jumble of some of the Indian languages. As written most of it can be understood with some certainty, and other parts cannot be interpreted in any fashion. Still it is a great story of exploration and Raddisson’s colorful and horrendous experiences.

When Raddisson was sixteen in 1652 he and his family lived in the Canadian settlement of Three Rivers. On a beautiful spring day he and two of his friends went to hunt ducks. Indians were camped over the hills and the boys were warned to keep away. These were the hated Iroquois who constantly were on the lookout for any settlers who wandered away from the settlement. After killing a number of ducks the other boys headed home but Raddisson wasn’t ready to go. He wandered on alone looking for more game. After making a good days catch he turned back for home. He had a load of geese, ducks, and a crane, but due to circumstance Raddisson wasn’t to get home any time soon.

In the tangled grass he stumbled over the dead bodies of his friends. They were naked with bullet and tomahawk wounds. In his fear and apprehension Raddisson headed for the river but it was too late. Twenty or thirty heads of Iroquois bobbed up out of the grass and bushes. He had time to fire one shot before the happy Iroquois grabbed him. Raddissons captors dragged him back to the woods, laughing and howling, they showed him the scalps of his friends, who had so cheerfully started out with him that morning.

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Raddisson saved his life by his courage and boldness. One of the ways he did it was by giving one of the Indians a good beating who insulted him. The Iroquois Indians admired bravery above all things. At first they took his clothes and kept him tied up but as their good impression of him grew they gave him back his clothes and began to feed him. They combed and greased his hair and painted his face red to make him look more like them. Gradually Raddisson was given more freedom and taken on hunts.

When he was taken on a visit to a Mohawk village the tribe was so taken with Raddisson that an old squaw adopted him into her family. Well fed and cared for he was no longer considered a prisoner. Raddisson lived the carefree life of a young warrior, playing most of the day with his young Indian companions. Daughters of the lodge waited on him and carried his pack when he was hunting. Everything was going well when Raddisson met a white prisoner of the Iroquois. While they were hunting the white man persuaded Raddisson to kill their Indian companions and escape.

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These Indians had done him no harm and had been good to him. Raddisson hated do it but hardened his heart and killed the sleeping warriors and escaped to the Saint Lawrence. They were caught by pursuing warriors who were hot on their trail. The other prisoner was killed and Raddisson was beaten and tortured unmercifully. He was then taken back to his Indian family. He was again punished and tortured but due to the pleas of his Mohawk mother, father,and brother, his life was saved. After he was nursed back to heath, Raddisson finely made good his escape. He escaped to a Dutch settlement and from there went to France. You would think he would have been contend to stay at home after this experience, but this was only the beginning of Raddisson’s many expeditions.

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