The Singing Scoutmaster: Iktomi and the Muskrat

One fine morning, as the sun rose lazily over the marshlands, Iktomi the trickster found himself wandering aimlessly through the reeds and cattails. His sharp eyes darted here and there, searching for something—or someone—to occupy his mischievous mind. The marsh was quiet and still, the water reflecting the blue sky above. Iktomi's footsteps squelched in the mud, leaving a trail of messy prints behind him. He hummed to himself as he walked, weaving schemes and plans in his ever-active mind.

Suddenly, Iktomi's keen ears caught the soft splash of water nearby. He peered through the tall reeds and spotted a small figure gliding gracefully across a still pond. It was Muskrat, his little paws paddling swiftly as he swam back and forth, collecting long strands of reeds in his mouth. Muskrat was too busy with his task to notice Iktomi lurking in the shadows, watching him intently.

With a sly grin, Iktomi stepped forward and called out, his voice dripping with false friendliness. "Hello there, Muskrat! What a beautiful day it is, isn't it? You look busy. What are you doing today?"

Startled, Muskrat looked up and saw Iktomi standing on the bank, his eyes gleaming with an expression that Muskrat knew all too well. He had heard many stories about Iktomi's tricks and was immediately on guard. "I'm gathering reeds for my nest," Muskrat replied cautiously, a few strands of reeds dangling from his mouth. "Why do you ask, Iktomi?"

Iktomi raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, as if the very idea of trickery had never crossed his mind. "Oh, I was just thinking that you might need a little help. You've got a lot of work to do, and you look so tired," he said, his voice as smooth as silk. "Why don't I carry the reeds for you? It would be a shame if you wore yourself out before finishing your nest!"

Muskrat eyed Iktomi suspiciously. He knew that whenever Iktomi offered to help, there was always some hidden motive behind it. But he didn't want to offend Iktomi by refusing his offer. "Well… if you insist," Muskrat said hesitantly. He gathered up a large bundle of reeds and piled them onto Iktomi's back. "Just be careful—they're delicate."

Iktomi grunted under the unexpected weight of the reeds but forced a smile. "No problem at all, friend!" he said, though his legs already wobbled under the load. Together, they continued through the marsh, Muskrat swimming along lightly while Iktomi trudged slowly behind, his feet sinking into the muck with each heavy step.

Before long, Iktomi began to lag behind, his legs trembling and his back aching from carrying the heavy bundle. He glanced enviously at Muskrat, who moved easily through the water, his burden light and his spirit untroubled. Iktomi's pride burned at the thought of struggling while Muskrat seemed so at ease. An idea began to form in his mind—one that he hoped would put him back in control of the situation.

"Why don't we rest for a bit?" Iktomi suggested, his voice strained. He stumbled to a halt on a patch of dry land and dropped the reeds onto the ground with a heavy thud. Muskrat, who was getting a little tired himself, nodded and climbed out of the water to join him. The two of them sat quietly for a moment, listening to the gentle rustle of the reeds swaying in the breeze.

As they rested, Iktomi's eyes gleamed with a newfound plan. He leaned closer to Muskrat, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you know, Muskrat, that I have a very special power?" he said, his tone filled with mystery. "I can summon a feast out of thin air!" He waved his hands dramatically, as if conjuring something invisible in the air before him.

Muskrat's ears perked up. He was growing hungry from all the work and was curious about Iktomi's claim. "Really?" he asked, his eyes widening. "Show me, Iktomi! I'd love to see this special power of yours." He didn't quite believe Iktomi, but he thought there was no harm in seeing what the trickster had up his sleeve.

Iktomi nodded eagerly, his hands moving in exaggerated motions as he pretended to cast a spell. He muttered nonsensical words under his breath and then, with a grand flourish, reached into his pouch. From it, he pulled out a few small pieces of dried fish and some shriveled berries he had been saving for later. He carefully laid them out on a flat rock and stepped back with a proud smile.

"Behold! A magical feast, summoned from thin air!" he announced, gesturing to the meager offering as if it were a banquet fit for a king.

Muskrat looked at the dried fish and berries, his expression falling. He had been expecting something more… magical. But not wanting to seem rude, he nibbled on a piece of dried fish and forced a polite smile. "It's very… nice, Iktomi," he said slowly. "But I think I'll go back to gathering reeds now." He gave Iktomi a small nod and turned back toward the water, his disappointment clear.

Iktomi's smile faded as he realized that his trick had not impressed Muskrat at all. He felt a rush of irritation and embarrassment. He had hoped to show off and gain the upper hand, but instead, Muskrat seemed completely unimpressed. "Fine! Go back to your reeds!" Iktomi snapped, shoving the rest of the reeds back into Muskrat's paws. "Who needs you anyway?"

Muskrat, calm and unruffled, gathered the reeds and slipped back into the water. "Goodbye, Iktomi," he said quietly. Without another word, he swam away, his small form disappearing among the tall reeds and water lilies.

Iktomi watched him go, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Bah," he muttered under his breath, kicking at a clump of grass. "No one appreciates a good trick anymore." He stood there alone on the shore, feeling the weight of his failure settle over him. For once, his cleverness had brought him nothing but disappointment.

As he turned to leave, a thought flickered at the back of his mind. Maybe—just maybe—if he had been honest and truly helpful, things would have turned out differently. Perhaps Muskrat would have been grateful for his help and even shared something with him in return. But Iktomi quickly brushed the thought aside. He was a trickster, after all. And tricksters didn't help others for free.

With a huff, Iktomi walked away, his footsteps heavy and his mood sour. But deep down, he knew the truth: being helpful and kind might have gotten him more than any of his tricks ever did. The thought lingered in his mind like an unwelcome guest, whispering softly as he disappeared into the marsh, the reeds closing behind him like a curtain falling on the end of a disappointing play.