SAYA AND THE GEESE AND THE FOX Told to Robin Ridington by Johnny Chipesia Saya left after he killed the wolverine. “I don’t know how I’m going to get meat. I’m hungry,” he thought to himself. Pretty soon he came to a big lake with lots of geese and ducks. He tried to think how he could catch them. Saya came walking up to the lake carrying a big pack, a great big pack. It reached way ever his head. It was filled with moss. “Hey Saya, what are you carrying? You’ve got a big pack” “Who’s that talking to me?” Saya said. “Me, goose,” the goose said. “Why, I’ve got my songs in my pack,” Saya answered. “Gees, you must have a lot of songs. We want to hear your songs. I’ll go round up all the ducks and geese. Then we’ll dance.” Saya made camp and fixed a door on his shelter. All the ducks and geese came, and there were lots. “You have to close your eyes,” he said. “If you don’t close your eyes I can’t sing.” “What about the fire.” They said. “We don’t want to burn.” “Oh, I’ll put the fire out.” Saya said So the geese and the ducks all closed their eyes. Saya started singing and they started dancing. “Hak, hak, hagetchi inga, hagetchi inga,” he sang; “Honk, honk, easy to kill duck, easy to kill duck,” he sang. The birds couldn’t understand him. With that he would take a goose or a duck and wring its neck and toss it outside. “Hak hak,” the gasping goose would say, fluttering its wings and Saya just kept singing louder, “Hak, hak, that’s right, hak, hak! That’s the way.” And breaking the neck of another bird he would throw it outside. He had a big pile of ducks and geese outside. One little duck, a loon, felt there weren’t very many birds dancing. He opened one eye. Saya was just throwing another duck outside. “Hey,” he said, “They’re not many birds dancing.” All the birds opened their eyes. All they saw was a pile of birds outside with their feathers fluttering. “You’re smart enough,” the little duck said, and he started to run outside. Saya stepped on his tail: that’s why the loon can’t walk to this day. The rest of the ducks and geese ran away. Saya made a big fire and started to roast the ducks and geese. “Oh boy,” he said. “I’ll eat for weeks. Lots of ducks and geese” he roasted them all. A red fox came and saw Saya with his feast of fowl. He pretended he had a bad leg and came limping over. “Hey sharp face,” Saya called “What are you doing here?” “I’m sick,” the fox said. “I’m looking for duck eggs.” “Hah,” said Saya. “Let’s race. The one who gets to the end of the lake first can eat lots of duck and geese, sharp face.” “I can’t race. I’ve got a bad leg, I’m lame,” said the fox. “Alright,” said Saya. “You’re lame, so I’ll put a sharp stone in my foot. I’ll make myself lame too.” “Alright. I can’t run, but I’ll try,” said the fox. So Saya and the fox started out. Saya ran as fast as he could. He had a sharp rock tied to the bottom of his foot, and it really hurt. He ran and ran. “I sure beat that sharp face,” he said. “Why, I can’t see him anywhere.” He got to the end of the lake. Saya looked back. He couldn’t see the red fox anywhere. He stayed behind and ad took all the ducks and geese and hid them. Saya limped back. Only the feet of the ducks and geese were left. Saya tried to find where the fox had hidden his ducks. Fox had eaten so many he just laid down to rest his tummy. Then Saya got smart. He built a big fire all around. “Hey sharp face,” Saya called. “You think you’re smart. You’re going to burn now.” The fox saw fire leaping up all around him. He jumped up, jumped over the fire – he got singed all over; that’s why some foxes don’t have any hair on their legs. We call them Saya foxes. |