The Singing Scoutmaster: Iktomi and the Ducks

One sunny day, Iktomi the trickster was wandering along a sparkling river, his bare feet kicking up small clouds of dust as he strolled lazily down the path. The day was warm, and the sun shone brightly overhead, making the river water shimmer like a trail of liquid silver. As he walked, Iktomi's keen eyes scanned the area, always on the lookout for something—anything—that could bring him some fun or, even better, a meal.

As luck would have it, he soon spotted a group of ducks paddling and playing in the water near the riverbank. The ducks were splashing and laughing, quacking merrily as they dipped their beaks into the cool water and flapped their wings. Iktomi's stomach growled at the sight of them, and he rubbed his hands together with a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Ah, what perfect timing," Iktomi muttered to himself. "Those ducks look plump and delicious. But I can't just go chasing after them—they'd fly away before I could catch even one. No, I need to be clever about this. I need a plan." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he watched the ducks swimming happily, unaware of the danger lurking nearby.

Iktomi's mind, always sharp and cunning, began to race. He thought of all the ways he had tricked animals in the past, all the schemes and plans he'd concocted. Then, like a flash of lightning, an idea struck him. "I know just what to do!" he said aloud, snapping his fingers with a grin.

Smoothing down his hair and arranging his clothes to look as presentable as possible, Iktomi sauntered over to the edge of the river. He put on his friendliest smile and called out in a sweet, melodious voice, "Oh, my dear feathered friends! What a beautiful day it is, isn't it? The sun is shining, the water is cool, and I have something wonderful to share with you all!"

The ducks stopped their splashing and turned to look at Iktomi, their beady eyes blinking in curiosity. They knew Iktomi by reputation—he was known far and wide as a trickster, a troublemaker who was always up to some mischief. But his voice sounded so friendly, and his smile seemed so genuine, that they couldn't help but waddle closer to hear what he had to say.

"What do you want, Iktomi?" one of the older ducks quacked suspiciously, tilting its head. "We know you're always up to something. Why are you talking to us?" The other ducks nodded in agreement, their feathers ruffling with wariness.

Iktomi held up his hands as if in protest, feigning hurt. "Oh, come now, don't be like that!" he said, his voice full of false sincerity. "I'm not here to cause trouble, I promise! In fact, I'm here to teach you a new dance—a dance that's sure to bring good luck and happiness to anyone who performs it! Wouldn't you like to learn it?"

The ducks looked at each other, unsure. They did enjoy dancing and playing by the river, and the idea of learning a new dance intrigued them. Maybe, just maybe, Iktomi was being honest this time. After all, who didn't love a good dance?

"A new dance?" a young duckling piped up, its voice filled with excitement. "Can we see it, Iktomi? Show us how to do it!"

Iktomi's grin widened. "Of course! But first, you all need to come out of the water and gather around me here on the grass," he said, beckoning them with a sweeping gesture. "This dance requires plenty of space, and it's best done on solid ground, not in the water."

The ducks hesitated, glancing at each other. But one by one, their curiosity got the better of them. They waddled out of the water and onto the grassy bank, forming a circle around Iktomi. Their eyes shone with anticipation, and they shuffled their feet eagerly, waiting for Iktomi to begin.

Once all the ducks were gathered around him, Iktomi clapped his hands in delight. "Wonderful! Now, listen closely," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, as if he were sharing a great secret. "The first step of the dance is to close your eyes and spread your wings wide." He demonstrated the motion, stretching out his arms as if they were wings.

The ducks, eager to try, closed their eyes and spread their wings, their beaks pointing toward the sky. "Good, good!" Iktomi praised. "Now, spin around and around, as fast as you can, but don't open your eyes until I say so!"

The ducks, their eyes shut tight, began to spin. They twirled and spun, their wings flapping, their feet shuffling through the grass. Round and round they went, their heads bobbing in time with the rhythm that Iktomi set by clapping his hands. Faster and faster they spun, until the world became a blur, and they could barely tell which way was up or down.

As the ducks spun themselves dizzy, Iktomi crept closer, his heart racing with anticipation. He could already taste the delicious duck stew he would make tonight. Just as he was about to reach out and grab the closest duck, a sudden voice rang out, sharp and clear.

"Stop! Stop right now!"

The ducks, startled by the shout, opened their eyes and stumbled to a halt, blinking in confusion. It was the oldest and wisest of the ducks, who had kept one eye open the entire time. She flapped her wings and glared at Iktomi, her beady eyes blazing with anger.

"You trickster!" she quacked angrily. "You were trying to catch us for your supper, weren't you?"

The other ducks gasped and quacked in outrage as realization dawned on them. "You lied to us, Iktomi!" they cried, their feathers ruffling with fury. "We should have known you were up to no good!"

Iktomi, caught red-handed, raised his hands defensively. "Now, now, let's not be too hasty," he said, his voice shaky. "It was just a little joke, you see… Just a harmless bit of fun!" But the ducks were not amused. With a flurry of quacks and flapping wings, they rushed at Iktomi, pecking at his legs and flapping their wings in his face.

"Get out of here, Iktomi!" they shouted, chasing him away from the riverbank. "Go find your dinner somewhere else!"

Yelping in pain and embarrassment, Iktomi stumbled and fell, scrambling to his feet as the ducks continued to scold him loudly. He turned and ran as fast as he could, his heart pounding in his chest. The ducks chased him all the way to the edge of the forest before finally stopping, their angry quacks echoing in the distance.

Iktomi didn't stop running until he was far away from the river, panting and rubbing his sore legs. "Those ducks were smarter than I thought," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "I'll have to come up with a better plan next time."

From that day on, the ducks by the river always kept one eye open whenever Iktomi was near, and he never again tried to teach them any "new dances." The story of Iktomi and the Dancing Ducks became a tale that was told around campfires for many years, reminding everyone to stay vigilant and never let their guard down around a trickster like Iktomi.