Wink, the Lazy Bird, and the Red Fox

The old folk say that there was once a lazy bird called Chewink–Wink for short. It may be true, nephew, that he was lazy, but Wink said it wasn’t that at all. He said that he was only tired all the time and didn’t like to do anything. And so the old story goes that Wink was so lazy that he didn’t hunt corn grubs like other Chewink boys, nor would he gather seed or pick buds. This was too bad, my nephew, as I shall tell. So now the story, ho ho, the story!

Once, upon a hill by the banks of the Djo-nes-see-yu, there was a lonely cabin built of straw and leaves. Here lived Oneta and her only son, Wink. Oneta was a widow whose husband and four babes had been killed in the war raid of the hawk tribe- those terrible Gajidas warriors that swoop down from the blue! So, naturally, Wink had no father to bring him up. Poor boy, he had nothing to do but eat meals his mother prepared and sleep the rest of day. After awhile his mother scolded him roundly, saying that he was a lazy loafer and should do a little hunting for himself now and then. They had not had fresh meat since that day when Oneta picked fish out of the mud holes after the river had gone down.

Wink couldn’t stand being scolded twice a day. One morning when he had been sent for water, he crawled into his mother’s canoe and floated down-stream. After awhile the canoe struck a log jutting from the shore, and Wink, being too tired after his journey to push it off again, crawled ashore. He found a mossy bank under a basswood tree with fine, sweet smelling flowers.

Here Wink lay all day, making a miserable meal from artichokes the river had washed out.

Poor boy, how was he to get home again? The stream was swift, and to return meant he would have to paddle upstream against the swift current. Wink, of course, could not do that, for he was too tired.

As he lay pondering over his misfortune, for night was coming on, he heard a voice. Without looking up, Wink replied, “Kwey! What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“I want to borrow your canoe to paddle upstream,” said the voice.

“All right,” answered the lucky Wink. “You can borrow it if you will take me up to the flats at Gardow.”

The stranger now came into sight, and a fine looking fellow was he with a coat of long red fur and a big bushy tail.

“Come on,” he exclaimed with a smile. “Come on, for I just like to paddle for other people, especially–well, especially…” And somehow he didn’t finish, but placed a covered basket in the bow of the canoe.

So Wink went home. His face was long and dejected, for he had not even killed a beetle that day and was compelled to eat dried meat for supper. It was a terrible task to chew it, but it was the best his mother could borrow from over the hill.

Next day he floated downstream again, and that evening the same stranger came along and wanted to borrow the canoe. Of course Wink agreed if the stranger would do the paddling.

In this manner for many moons Wink escaped scoldings and secured his much needed rest.

After a time, Wink began to notice the stranger was lugging a heavy basket. Each night he stowed it away with care in the bow of the canoe. One night he asked the stranger what was in it.

“Oh, the basket? Basket—oh, yes. Hmm. Why it’s full of treasure I dig from the ground near the spot where you sleep all day.”

“What sort of treasure is it?” asked Wink.

“Oh, just wonderful treasure that belongs to a boy named Wink, but he doesn’t want it. It is a treasure of Kan-yenga, of Onoh, and of Owis-ha, and it all belongs to a boy named Wink. Ho ho!”

“Why my name is Wink,” said the lazy boy.

“Oh, no, that cannot be,” replied the red stranger. “No boy like Wink would lie all day and sleep and let a stranger steal his treasure from the ground at his feet. If you were Wink, you would have dug for the treasure.”

“But my name is Wink and the treasure is mine,” persisted Wink. “Give me all you have dug.”

“Not I,” said the stranger. “I’d rather eat you first.”

Wink was now frightened a bit, for he noticed the stranger had a big, hungry mouth. So he said with a little more humility, “Please give me what is left of the treasure. I must have it.”

“All right,” answered the red stranger. “The last of the treasure is a message from the Jungie that guarded it.” He spoke and said, ‘All the treasures of Kan-yenga and Onoh and Owis-ha are Wink’s. It is all buried in a place known as I-wonder-where-it-is-now. It is there beneath a little earth.’

“And what Jungie said I repeat,” he concluded, looking at Wink.

Wink was very angry someone else had taken his treasure, but he hid his anger and asked, “How shall I get back my treasure?”

“Dig for it here, and dig for it there,” said the red stranger. “Dig by the river, by the hill, by the wood’s edge, by the field’s edge. Dig every day, for what you find is priceless to you.”

Wink was now fired with a new ambition, and every day he dug here and he dug there, by the river, by the hill, by the wood’s edge, and by the field’s edge.

All the birds came around to see him dig, and the birds thought Wink their best friend, for where he dug the worms came out and the birds grew fat from the worms. Moreover, where Wink dug, Oneta, his mother, planted corn, so there was food to eat.

After awhile, the birds began to disappear one by one, and Wink thought he saw old Red Fox skipping here and there, each time with a quail or partridge.

Continued next week