Chapter 16
The First Hotcangara Campaign, 5 K
(Campaign against the “Chiwere” Sioux, MO, IO, 1373)
Kaidu was very pleased with my report and the new recruits. He would have to assign some of the men to remain behind to train them while we were on campaign. Looking over my maps, he was surprised at the size of the Mongol River and intrigued at the size of the land. He, too, wondered if the pointed-headed Salst traded across the Great Sea. He doubted it, since he had never heard of any pointed-headed traders from across the sea all the time he was in the old land, but it would be interesting to know if it was even possible in their boats. Meanwhile, all had gone very well in my absence. The army was fully trained and ready to go. He had sent Donduk, his second in command, and a group of soldiers to the Anishinabe to learn forest warfare according to their practice. More warriors from the confederated tribes had come in for training. Game seemed to be endless, and the herds thrived on the steppe. Henry had more iron ore than he could use and had about a dozen apprentices he was training. Kaidu thanked me again and wanted to see Juchi the moment he got back into camp.
My son had grown in my absence and had already been riding with Paula. She was radiant in motherhood. Henry was very busy and very happy. The furnaces were in good shape. More coal had been found across the river. There was much excitement about the camp over the upcoming campaign. Padraig was particularly pleased with his sword students, and Kaidu had put him in charge of a minghan, quite an honor. I worked on my maps, played with George, and watched for Juchi. The first of my mapmakers to come in was Shingabaossin. He came in the day after I did. He had reached the Absaroke River six days after leaving us. He had been delayed going through a rough canyon, but after that the land had been pleasant and full of game. The wide bottoms of the Absaroke River particularly impressed him. He found Juchi’s Na-i-shan-dina at the junction of his river and the Absaroke and had named it for them since Juchi’s expedition hadn’t named it. Two days later, Mahohivas rolled in. His river had made a wide arc, first turning northeast, then northwest. It turned out to be the river with coal along its lower reaches, which Juchi had called the Coal River. He was very enthusiastic about the river, it had been an easy trek, and they had eaten well.
Finally, three days later, just when I had decided to go look for Juchi, he was seen approaching from the south. Greatly relieved, I went out to meet him. He was glad to see me and relieved to be back. We compared notes on the way into camp. He had seen the salt lake, and there were Newe villages all around it. He had made a little headway with them—at least they agreed to send some more observers. South of the lake he found an aggressive, rough-looking tribe. They had quickly grasped the potential of the horse and joined en masse. They were called the Ute and spoke a language similar to that of the Newe. He sent them to join the Ka-i-gwu and the others up the Absaroke Valley, since he knew it was an easy path. The area around the lake was very dry and water became a real problem forcing him to go out of his way to stay along rivers and streams. The country was very rough, and game was quite scarce along the way. He constantly found himself in steep winding canyons, especially along a river that flowed south into the river he finally followed upstream back east. This last river was surrounded by a steep breathtaking canyon, which extended far to the west. He also found another tribe in its shadow, the Hopitu-shinumu. They spoke a language enough like that of the Newe and the Utes that he could just barely communicate through them. They were not at all interested in joining us and only wanted to be left in peace. They raised vegetables and mondamin like the forest tribes, but also raised cotton. It was a type of cotton with longer fibers than that in the old land, and Juchi brought some back with him to show us. One of the Hopitu-shinumu, Talaswaima, came with him as a guide and stayed. He followed this river, which he had named the Hopitu, northeast ever uphill through seemingly endless canyons of varying depths lined with either tenuous toeholds or broad bottoms to its source in a ridge with high snow-capped mountains. After a short rest, they plunged over the mountain range finally descending to the plain along a river that flowed northeast.
This river he had followed many days to reach the Mongol. The river was joined by another from the northwest and became very broad and shallow, with many channels and sandbars, sparsely lined with trees but full of waterfowl, including a white crane like the one back in our old land. A few days after the merger of the rivers, he found yet another tribe. It seemed the tribe was related to the Tanish we had run into along the Mongol two years before. They had heard about us from their relatives last year and had already sent observers. They were called Chahiksichahiks . The river was named for them since they ranged all along it. Woksihi showed me his maps while Juchi reported to Kaidu, and I worked on a reconciliation with my maps for much of the rest of the day.
Finally, two days later, Kaidu called a meeting of the commanders. He announced that we would march the next morning. Because of our recruits we now had three tumen (of ten thousand men each), and would soon have the makings of a fourth. He wanted to take all three, so we would only be able to take three horses each. No matter, though, for food and fodder were both plentiful all along our path. We would send scouts out in advance to locate the first Hotcangara village along our river. We would surround the village and demand its surrender. If they refused, they would be annihilated. Two of the commanders were assigned to remain behind to run the Ordu and help train the new recruits. Juchi and I would be in Kaidu’s entourage since we had not trained with the troops in some time.
Near dawn the next day, the Mongol army assembled. Each tumen was assigned a banner made of feathers from a raptor. From now on they would be known as the Eagle, Hawk, and Owl Tumen. The commanders were given a special headdress made from the appropriate feathers. Each minghan commander (of one thousand) got a smaller headdress and the jagun commanders (of one hundred) an even smaller one. The arban commanders (of ten) got two feathers, and each of the soldiers got one feather to wear on their helmets. Kaidu rode before the troops. He had an elaborate headdress made of eagle feathers and wore a cloak made from the hide of a white plains ox. The men began to cheer and beat their swords on their shields. I was amazed; he had truly achieved a melding of Mongol and local tribal customs. He stopped in the middle, turned, and started to ride south. As a man the whole army moved with him. I was told later that while Kaidu wanted all the tribes represented in each of the Ordu, he had to make an exception for the Inuna-ina. They considered the owl an unlucky bird.
For twenty days, we moved steadily covering about a hundred li a day. We only stopped for a day when we reached the end of Tanish lands. Scouts were sent out on both sides of the river to find the first Hotcangara village. The next morning, we started up again, moving along the north bank at a slightly slower speed. On the second day, the scouts began coming in. The nearest village was on the southern bank of the river within a day’s ride. The army crossed the river and continued on for the rest of the day. That night there were no fires in camp, and sentries were posted up to three li away. The next day, precise marching orders were given to bring all three tumen to the village from three sides at the same time. The Owl Tumen had the longest march, but since the village was only nine li away, we would all be in position by late morning, when the Hotcangara would be harvesting in their fields.
The surprise was complete. The first sound they heard was the horses hooves, looking up they saw thousands of horsemen silently riding toward them through their fields, out of the surrounding hills and up from the riverbank. In terror they fled to their village only to find they were surrounded and still the horsemen rode on. The commotion, panic, and despair must have been truly frightening. Then as a man the army stopped. The screaming stopped, and those who dared, looked. One of our soldiers, Wanbli Sapa, of course, went forward to deliver the ultimatum. Obviously, they didn’t have a chance, and they knew it. They were so relieved to have a choice that they almost happily surrendered. I wondered what Kaidu was going to do with over a thousand prisoners, and I soon found out. First they had to feed us. Next they had to show us where their other villages were. Any treachery and they would be annihilated. If they cooperated, who knew?
That little piece of hope was enough to send them scurrying to do our bidding. Since they had surrendered, the army was not allowed to abuse them, but they still fawned all over us. The next day, we left them to continue their harvest until our return and went on to the next village, which was some distance to the south. Here the scene was repeated with the same result. We continued taking a village a day until the sixth day. As we approached that next village there was no sound. Assuming a trap, we sent in one of the Hotcangara guides, but he returned to announce that the village was deserted. Again we sent our own scouts out, and they reported that the next several villages were deserted, but they eventually discovered that there was a large concentration of Hotcangara warriors marching toward us about two days’ distance to the east near the southern bank of the Mongol. Kaidu was pleased: at last, a battle!
The enemy was scouted out and found to be advancing steadily but not very quickly. There seemed to be about twenty thousand warriors armed with their primitive bows and war clubs. We checked out the terrain and set our trap. There were forests of oak and a strange tree something like a wing nut, all along this part of the river that had been only partially cleared for fields. That meant there were extensive clearings punctuated with smaller or larger forests. The land was hilly with deep river and streambeds affording ample opportunity for concealment. As the lead elements of the fiercely painted Hotcangara cleared a small hill, they saw across an open field before them a small force of our horsemen. They yelled and rushed. The horsemen stood their ground, fired off a few arrows, then rode away toward the west at an easy pace. The Hotcangara rushed after them in headlong pursuit. Meanwhile, we had been looking for the rear of the force and finally found it some twelve li from the front just struggling out of a stand of trees. Forming a broad U around their straggling rear, the Hawk Tumen began to fire into their rear and flanks at range forcing them to rush forward to get away. By this time, the forward elements of the Hotcangara had “chased” our troops across a wide plain. Suddenly, the troops turned, and over a hill to the south, the Eagle Tumen and, up from the riverbank in the north, the Owl Tumen appeared, forming another U. Arrows began to rain on the dismayed and by now tired Hotcangara. A few rushed their tormentors and some tried to find cover but most turned and ran back along the only open corridor, east. The two “U’s” channeled the Hotcangara into the trap finally meeting to surround a milling mass of panicking, despairing, and frantic Hotcangara in a huge clearing. They would rush first one side of the circle, be driven back, rush another side, and again fall short, and all the while, arrows rained down on them. Finally, they stopped charging and we ceased firing.
There were perhaps several hundred of them left alive and many of them were wounded. Again Wanbli Sapa moved toward them to see if they had had enough. They were exhausted, frightened, and totally defeated. There was no fight left in them. Some had fought bravely and many had not, but they had been badly led right into a trap. Some had managed to escape to the river before the trap had closed, but the majority littered the battlefield. We had lost no one, but had a few wounded. The men had performed all our maneuvers flawlessly and had shown great discipline. Kaidu was very proud of them. He was disgusted with the defeated enemy, however. He considered them unworthy foes for his army. He had the prisoners disarmed and dismissed, not allowing us to treat their wounds. We spent the rest of the day picking up our arrows. We had a good supply, but we didn’t want them coming back at us.
Again the scouts were sent out, while the army continued east. They rejoined us to report that all the Hotcangara villages along the southern bank of the Mongol were deserted, those farther back from the river were also deserted. They had seen some of them fleeing across the Missi Sipi in great numbers. Kaidu ordered the army to cross over to the north side of the Mongol. The scouts went ahead as usual. One soon came back badly wounded. The Owl Tumen was sent north along the west bank of the Missi Sipi, the Eagle Tumen spread out west along the north bank of the Mongol, and the Hawk Tumen was sent on a long sweep west of the Eagles. When the Owls and Eagles were in position, they began to move in a wedge northwest, away from the juncture of the two rivers. The terrain was much like that south of the river, open fields alternating with varying sizes of forests over rolling hills broken by streambeds and punctuated with deserted villages. More scouts came in and reported a large concentration of warriors lying in wait along a riverbank in the north, about thirty li from our lines. Smaller groups were watching for us along the way.
Kaidu ordered the wedge to be rolled up with the Owls replacing the Eagles along about half the front and gradually forming a double line with their right flank along the Missi Sipi. The Eagles formed a double line to their left. More scouts came in and reported that the concentration of warriors was heavy, but limited and our lines already overlapped it. Kaidu sent word to the Hawks to put themselves in the rear of the enemy, making use of whatever cover was available, and to attack them from across the river as soon as they were in position. The rest of the troop moved forward at a steady pace. As we went we would occasionally see a man jump out of cover and run madly north. We stopped within bowshot of the riverbank, behind which they were massed, and waited. I was certain they would start to shoot at us and thus give themselves away, but they maintained remarkable discipline, and no sound came from the riverbank. Soon I began to think they had fled, but events proved that wrong also. The trees had been cleared in this area, and there were at least two villages in sight among extensive, mostly harvested fields.
Suddenly, the far bank of the river was alive with the Hawks. They soon began firing on the massed enemy across the river from them. Odd screams and war cries emanated from the Hotcangara and in confusion some climbed up the embankment and rushed our position. Others tried to rush the Hawks across the river; still others ran to their boats and tried to flee. All those that rushed us were quickly cut down, and we advanced to the embankment. Those that tried to cross the river were mostly cut down in route; only a few managed to reach the other side and be cut down there. Those that fled in boats had the best chance although many of them were also hit. A few of them managed to get off some shots, and some of our men were hit, a few seriously. This time Kaidu was more impressed by the enemy. As he put it, they had shown some cunning and bravely tried to ambush us even though they were badly outnumbered and clearly outarmed .
Among the Hotcangara wounded was one of their war chiefs. He was patched up and brought before Kaidu. Wakinyan Cetan acted as interpreter. Kaidu told him that he would be sent back to his people along with the other wounded, but this would be the last time. He was to tell his people that they must either surrender or die. We would return the following year, and if we met any hostility from them, we would annihilate them all. This year we would be content with clearing this side of the Missi Sipi. This chief, Tayhah nea, looked at Kaidu with a mixture of shame and hate. He angrily replied that he was no messenger, especially for dogs like us. Kaidu laughed at his bravado, but warned him not to press his patience. He was brave and deserved one more chance, but only one more chance. Kaidu’s eyes narrowed and gave Tayhah nea a truly brutal look. The latter backed down and agreed to take the message. He was put in one of his boats and disappeared down the river. The rest of the prisoners were released with the same warning; If any of them dared attack us again, they and their village would be destroyed. They fanned out in several directions except for a handful that wanted to join us. I had no idea what Kaidu would do about them, and he surprised me by telling them to return to their villages and get their whole villages to join us and then they would be accepted.
We rested a couple of days and gathered our arrows while our scouts looked in vain for any sign of further hostility. Then we moved out westward along the northern bank of the Mongol back to the Ordu. We encountered a few villages along the way, and all were either abandoned or obsequious, bringing us basketsful of their vegetables. The presents were accepted, but Kaidu’s ultimatum was repeated to them. Whole villages could join us the following year; any hostility would be severely punished. Almost all of them wanted to join and were disappointed that they had to wait. It was obvious that Kaidu didn’t trust them and wouldn’t until things had been resolved with the whole tribe. In fact, they were not really a united tribe but rather, a very loosely connected group of towns and villages. As it turned out, only the ones nearest to the Ocheti shakowin even called themselves Hotcangara (others called themselves Iyakhwa, Watota and Niotachi), but we continued using the name for all of them for convenience. It was only fear of us and some of their more fiery war chiefs that had caused them to unite against us.
On the third day after our return, Kaidu called Juchi and me in to see him. He said we were quite fortunate to have done so well. While the men performed flawlessly, it was the poor tactics of our enemy that had made our fight so one-sided. They had made the mistake of fighting us in the open when close at hand there were forests of oak and other hardwoods that would have given them cover and inhibited our movements. Surely they would realize that soon and become a more effective foe. That was why he had decided to try to win them over instead. We were invincible on the open plain, but in the forest, we could have trouble. He was very grateful that we had urged him to take up the Anishinabe on their generous offer to train us in forest warfare and was anxious to hear what Donduk had learned. Meanwhile, he was glad we had gotten so many recruits and hoped we would find more next year. Yes, he was sending us out again in the spring. He wanted Juchi to explore eastward beyond the Anishinabe, and he wanted me to explore southward along the plain, beyond where the Mongol turned east. The Hotcangara were by far the most numerous tribe we had yet encountered, and those farther south might well be even larger. It was quite prudent, therefore, for us to increase our numbers as soon as possible.
He was going to set up the three tumen as Ordu in separate camps. One would be left at our current camp, another would be across from the mouth of the river that Juchi had followed back this summer (the Chahicks) and the third would be at the point where the river turned east in Hotcangara territory. These would be set up on the way back. He would leave the Owls at the bend under his eldest son, Kuyuk, Juchi’s father. He and the Eagles under his youngest son, Tului, would take the middle position, and the Hawks under Mangku, his second son, would stay in the old camp. The recruits and the training would be done at the middle camp. Juchi and I would also stay there. My brother Henry would stay at the old camp with the smelter, until he could locate closer to the source of his ore. Meanwhile, as soon as his apprentices were ready, they should set up in the other Ordu. Further, he wanted any of my mapmakers not needed by Juchi and me to fan out next spring and fill in some of the blanks on our maps. He hoped I would get a few more mapmaker trainees this winter. The two new camps would be set up before the great fall hunt. Finally, he wanted to set up a yam system between the camps, but felt that they would be too vulnerable to attack at this time, since there were still undisturbed Hotcangara villages well north of the Mongol, but once all the Hotcangara were dealt with, it would be a very good idea. For the short term, the camps would only be a hard four-day ride apart.
So it was that riders were sent to get the appropriate yurts and tents moving south from the old camp and we left the Owls behind to set up camp at the bend and continued on to the site for the middle camp. I went on to the old camp to get Paula and give the furnaces a final check. Padraig was in the Eagle Ordu, so he would still be with us, and he accompanied me back to help. On the way we ran into the caravan of carts, herds, and men moving south. Some of the recruits that had accompanied me east the past summer were among them and greeted me enthusiastically. Paula and Mathilde had everything packed and loaded on carts by the time we arrived. I checked out the furnaces, told Henry what Kaidu wanted him to do, bid him and his family goodbye, and we headed south for the Eagle Ordu. We arrived and set up our yurt, and then Padraig and I joined the fall hunt.
The fall and winter passed pleasantly. I gave reading, writing, and cartography lessons, took George and Paula for rides on horses in the fall and on the sled in the winter. The recruits in camp were trained and the permanent ones, the Ka-i-gwu, the Dine, and the Utes were incorporated into a fourth tumen along with some of the earlier recruits. It was called the Falcon Tumen and was put under the command of Borgurchi, one of Kaidu’s best commanders. Donduk had returned and was in the process of passing on what he had learned from the Anishinabe to the unit commanders. Kaidu had decided to try to get enough recruits from the forest tribes to form a tumen of forest soldiers, with a Mongol cadre among them, under the command of Donduk. Some of the men who had distinguished themselves on the recent campaign were promoted and given leadership positions in the new squadrons. Among these were both Wanbli Sapa and Wakinyan Cetan.
More people from the confederated tribes kept trickling in to stay, not just to train and leave. This was especially true of the Siksika, the Dzitsiistas, and the Kensistenoug, but even some of the Anishinabe and their allies decided to stay with us. From all these, Kaidu was able to fashion not only a forest tumen, the Kestrels, but a fifth plains tumen, the Cranes. Also a second forest tumen, the Ospreys was being organized late in the winter. The forest tumen would only have one horse each while eventually the plains tumen would have five. Of course, our herds were not quite that large yet, but they were thriving and multiplying in this ideal environment.
The people in our new land were much given to ornamentation, and they were quite imaginative. It was remarkable what they could do with something as humble as porcupine quills. They would dye them different colors and sew them into geometric designs on clothes. They were very interested in some of the ornaments of the Mongols, especially the gold ones. There was no gold around here, so far, but Henry had shown his apprentices how to work the copper I had brought back, and there was great demand for copper copies of the gold ornaments. And before long, the more creative of the apprentices were making ornaments of their own design, some very intriguing. I made a note to look for gold and silver on my journeys, since it would no doubt be put to good use. I was never much for ornaments, myself, but Paula liked them and so did Mathilde and Padraig. Another thing that had become quite clear was that there was no sign of silk anywhere. We Mongols had a limited amount of it, of course, but it would not last forever, and we had come to depend on it. There was some interest in it among our recruits, but we could hardly share our supply with them. It became obvious that we would have to try to get more from the old land unless we could find it farther south. I wondered if that was why Kaidu was sending me south in the spring rather than west again.