Wootihu didn’t know what to think about this style of delivery so he mostly kept quiet as he paid attention to the current of the river.
Soon they would see Muskrat dwellings and Nanabozhu would turn into a Muskrat and talk about the social habits of Muskrats. And then he would say out of the blue, “The Bagwajiwinini were a virtuous people, in all senses of the word.”
While Nanabozhu was talking and transforming back and forth; navigating Mud River was not so easy for Wootihu, as it was shallow in some places and deeper in others. So the water was sometimes up to his ankles, and sometimes up to his neck. While he was splashing through the river he had to listen carefully as Nanabozhu would get lost in thought and would speak only when he felt like it.
“The reason you don’t see many of them now is because they are so caught up in their own cares, they do not often go out of their way.”
Wootihu heard this all the while plagued by mosquitoes which whined irritatingly around any of his exposed skin, and deer and moose flies would painfully bite him whenever they could find a spot to land–usually tangling in the hair on his head.
The mud sucked at his feet, slowing him down and tiring him out.
That was how they traversed the whole length of Mud River as it meandered around and up through the reservation, until they arrived at the bridge by the Fishery. The place that Wootihu originally thought they were going!
The only beings Wootihu had seen were a few kids swimming in the pond just before the bridge and some houses back of town. This had taken them eight more hours and the longest night of the summer was approaching.
“I was hoping we would have seen one by now.” said a dejected and worn out Wootihu.
Nanabozhu eyed Wootihu with a hint of sadness. “I’ll take you to a place where I know one will be at home, but I’ll have to blindfold you because it’s so close to downtown Redby.
So Nanabozhu blindfolded Wootihu and turned him around four times, and led him by the hand, taking him circuitous ways until they arrived inside of the home of the Bagwajiwinini. Night had descended.
Nanabozhu’s parting words were, “I will leave you here so you can ask him all the questions you want when you see him, but don’t take the blindfold off until you have counted to eight, as I make my exit.”
With that, Wootihu heard footsteps out of the house and a door closing softly as he slowly counted to eight by one thousands. And then took off his blindfold.
Wootihu found himself standing in front of his bathroom mirror.
Ooooh lovely ending.
I sure have been mucking my way through the river before, and quite recently too. I need to go look in the mirror now myself!
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Thanks Marey!
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That was a great story, Russ! Indeed, who else?!!!
I’ll go back and read it from the beginning, non stop….
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Thanks Marina! Half the fun is re-reading a story once you’ve read the (unexpected?) ending. 🙂
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True!! Unexpected, yes. Once I reached the conclusion I thought: “what an idiot – of course, how could it be any different!” 🙂
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Marina,
Hopefully, it was unexpected. And no you’re not an idiot. 🙂 If I did a decent job as a writer, the ending wasn’t too obvious, until you arrived there. Thanks for responding!
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Hurts
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