Iktomi jumped and almost chocked oh his soup. He peered through the long reeds from where he sat with his spoon in mid-air.
"How, my friend!" said the voice again, this time at his side. Iktomi turned and there stood a dripping-wet muskrat.
"Oh, it is my friend who scared me. I wondered if a spirit voice was talking. How, how, my friend!" said Iktomi. The muskrat stopod smiling, waiting for Iktomi to ask, 'My friend, will you sit down beside me and share my food?'
Yet Iktomi sat, silent. He hummed an old song and beat gently on the pot with his spoon. The muskrat began to feel awkward and wished himself underwater.
After many minutes, Iktomi stopped drumming with his spoon, and looking upward into the muskrat's face, he said, "My friend, let us run a race to see who shall win this pot of fish. If I win, I shall not need to share it with you. If you win, you shall have half of it." Springing to his feet, Iktomi began at once to tighten the belt about his waist.
"My friend Iktomi, I cannot run a race with you! I am not a swift runner, and you are nimble as a deer," answered the hungry muskrat.
"Then I shall carry a large stone on my back. That will slow down my usual speed, and the race will be a fair one." Saying this he laid a firm hand upon the muskrat's shoulder and walked to the edge of the lake. When they reached the opposite side, Iktomi searched for a heavy stone. He found one half buried in the shallow water. Pulling it onto dry land, he wrapped it in his blanket.
"Now, my friend, you shall run on the left side of the lake, I on the other. The race is for the boiled fish in yonder kettle!" said Iktomi.
The muskrat helped to lift the heavy stone upon Iktomi's back. Then they parted. Each took a narrow path through the tall reeds on the shore. Iktomi found his load heavy one. He puffed and panted, and sweat dripped from his forehead.
He looked across the lake to see how far the muskrat had got, but there was no sign of him.
"Well, he is running low under the wild rice!" said he. Yet as he searched the tall grasses on the lake shore, he saw nothing moving.
"Ah, has he gone so fast ahead that the disturbed grasses in his trail have already become quiet again?" exclaimed Iktomi. With that thought he quickly dropped the heavy stone.
"No more of this!" said he, patting his chest with both hands. Off with a springing bound, he ran swiftly towards the goal. Tufts of reeds and grass fell flat under his feet.
Soon he reached the heap of cold ashes. Iktomi halted stiff as if he had struck an invisible cliff. His black eyes showed a ring of white about them as he stared at the empty ground. There was no pot of boiled fish! There was no muskrat in sight!
"Oh, if only I had shared my food, I would not have lost it all! Why did I not remember the muskrat would run through the water? He swims faster than I could ever run! That is what he has done. He has laughed at me for carrying a weight on my back while he shot here like an arrow!"
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the muskrat. "Next time, say to a visiting friend, 'Be seated beside me, my friend. Let me share my food with you.'"
By Zitkala-sa
Copyright Ⓒ Miles Kelly Publishing Ltd 2011
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