Tales of the Bark Lodges

Old Fox Goes Fishing

“What you sed, Bra-ty? Yooht! You all a time sed tell ‘em Ol’ Ouendot story. What for? He’s 'bout all gone now, Ouendots. You jus’ lit’l bit, you fatha’, you motha’ jus’ lit’l bit mo’ Ouendot. Look, you hair jus’ lik’ a sunshine if you ketch ‘im an’ tie in bunch. Ouendot, his hair black like a night, an’ fine, jus’ lik you sistah yonda. Eyes black too. He an’ you motha’ an’ me, all looks lik’ Ouendot.” So spoke a pleasant, kindly looking old Wyandot woman to a little boy who was sitting with her before a cheery open fire, where a row of streaked, juicy red apples were slowly roasting on the broad hearth.

The boy replying to his old aunt, said: “Yes, I know, but Neh-ah, I’m a Wyan­dot even if my hair is like what you say, and you know I just love to hear you tell me all of the old stories that the little Wy­andot children, yes, and the older ones too, listened to so many, many years ago. That was before they ever knew there was such a thing as a white man, I guess. I like to hear all about the ‘olden times’ you often tell me about, and how the Wyandots lived and did things then. Anyway, you know that as long as I can claim a little bit of Wyandot blood, I am an Indian, a Wyan­dot, and not a white man.”

More than just a bit pleased, the old aunt said to him: “Well, I s’pose it’s jus’ that way, an’ it be that way too, all a time, with anybody what’s Ouendot. Just say kin’ a proud, ‘I’m Ouendot.’ Anyway, I tole you all a Ol’ story what I think of, cause you all a time tell a me story ‘bout nowa­days, an’ read to me, book an’ pay-pa’ too, ‘bout eva’thing what’s goin’ on in worl’ an’ all a diffunt place. All a Injun long ‘go use’ tell ‘em Ol’ story, so young folk can le’rn all ‘bout Ol’ times. Some time when hunta’s don’ got back yet with meat, an’ mebbe so don’t got much to eat in lodge, then jus’ tell ‘em story long time, and jus’ kin’ a fo’got he’s hungry. He’s do that kin’ in a winta’ time. But you don’ eva’ much hungry; anyway look, we have good roas’ apple, tzhu-u-wat, prit’ soon. Well, anyhow, I tole you ‘bout Ol’ Fox an’ Ol’ Coon, at’s his couzzen. They jus’ all a time try to play trick on each otha’ them fellas. Jus’ like long time ‘go, young fellas what go all ‘roun' diffunt village, an’ jus’ play trick on Ol’ witch womans, an’ eva’body they could, an’ jus’ make ‘em big laff all ‘roun’ cause they foolish ‘em, heap all a time.

“It’s col’ frosty mornin’ long time ‘go; winta’ time. Ol’ Fox he’s lazy to get up, jus’ sleep long time fo’ he get up an’ go ‘roun’ to see what’s goin’ on. By-um-by, he’s jus’ walkin’ long riva’ bank, jus’ sing­in’ like to he-self, jus’ like he’s feelin’ kin'’a good. He’s jus’ come ‘roun’ by lit’l hill an’ he see Coon comin’ up road. He’s carry somethin’ on back, jus’ puffin’ lik’ it’s heavy. Ol’ Fox he’s wonda’ what’s got Ol’ Coon. By-um-by he’s come ‘long clos’, Ol’ Coon, an’ Fox he see ‘em long string, lots crawfish, what’s carryin’ Ol’ Coon.

“Good morning’ Couzzen,’ he sed it Ol’ Coon, ‘How you mek it? What fo’ you sing jus’ like happy, this time mornin’? Mebbe so ‘it’s gif you bad lucks, cause you sing so early. Mebbe so you bettah what you say, cut it out.’

“Ol’ Fox he jus’ grin an’ sed: ‘Good mornin’ Couzzen Coon, I jus’ makin’ up new song fo’ nex’ Council Fire; I don’ tho’t ‘bout no bad lucks what you say; but what’s you got, all lots a crawfish? Whe-e-e ‘at’s fine, how you ketch ‘em? You jus’ all time lucky hunta’, ketch eva’thing easy; what makes all a time you do that way?’

“He sed it Ol’ Coon: ‘Oh, yes, me all time kill ‘em ten. ‘At’s caus’ you don’t see me come singin’ on road befo’ I eat ‘em my breakfus’; an’ this kin’, I jus’ pick ‘em up down riva’. ‘At’s easy. Seems to me you can do bettah as I can, ‘caus’ you’ tail it’s long an’ lots a-bushy.’

“Ol’ Fox he think he’s make a fun ‘bout his tail, Coon, an’ sed it: ‘Oh, it’s good ‘nuff my tail, but you don’ sed how you ketch ‘em crawfish; I like to try ketch ‘em.’

“Oh, you lik’ ketch ‘em,’ Ol’ Coon, he say, ‘It’s easy, but you haf to waitin’ long time, jus’ waitin’, but you don’t haf to watchin’ nothin’, jus’ waitin’.’

“Fox he say, ‘Well, you tell-a-me, an’ I do what you sed. I lik’ to try to-day, right now.’

“Ol’ Coon he point back which way he come an’ he say: ‘Right down on riva’, ‘roun’ that bank, it’s good place on ice, it’s lots lit’l hole in ice, all ova’. You look, fin’ good one, big nuff jus’ put it in, you tail, jus’ way down in wata’; he ain’t cold much, wata’. You jus’ sit there, tail in wata’, waitin’ long time. By-um-by, crawfish he come ‘long l-o-t-s ov ‘em, he get all tangle up on you’ tail. You jus’ waitin’ long time; afta’ while it’s feel heavy, but you jus’ waitin’ some mo’ an’ by-um-by when you waitin’ l-o-n-g time, you jus’ jump quick, jus’ high lik’ you can. You’ tail it’s be pull out hole, an’ it’s all scattah ova’ ice craw­fish, lots ov ‘em. You mus’ pick ‘em up hurry, fo’ he’s crawl back to that holes. It’s sure bes’ kin’ fishin I do long time. Sure ketch ‘em plenty crawfish, mebbe.’

“Ol’ Fox he’s jus’ lis’n to Coon talk ‘bout it, an’ he say: ‘Well, I try ‘im what you sed, Couzzen, cause I lik’ to ketch ‘em mo’ what you ketch ‘em, crawfish; I think I go try now.’

“Coon he sed: ‘Well, you go try. I’m jus’ ‘bout froze it now, stan’ here tole you ‘bout it, fishin’; nobody don’ tole me, I jus’ mek’ ‘em that kin’ fishin’.’ Then he’s go on’ jus’ lik’ he’s hurry, that Ol’ Coon.

He’s go lit’l way, an’ jus’ laff to he-self, much, cause he’s jus’ foolin’ ‘im, that Ol’ Fox; he don’ ketch ‘em crawfish that way, lik’ what he sed it.

“Fox, he’s jus’ b’lieve ‘im all of it; jus’ cause he’s got more big tail than Ol’ Coon, he’s jus’ think he ketch ‘em heap crawfish. He’s go down on ice by riva, jus’ hurry, cause he’s want fin’ hole, so he can do it, that waitin’. He’s by-um-by fin’ it good one, hole, but it’s col’ wind blow strong, jus’ freezin’, but he don’ care nothin’ cause he’s want try that waitin’. He’s put in hole his tail, an’ he’s set down on ice. That ice c-o-l’, an’ jus’ make sheever, jus’ lik’ eva’thin’. He’s jus’ think it’s be good eatin’ that crawfish, an’ jus’ keep on sheever. He’s don’ care fo’ that kin’, sheever, he’s jus’ want ‘em heaps crawfish.

“By-um-by, it’s kin’ pull lit’l bit, his tail; it’s freezin’ that wata’, but he don’t know, he’s jus’ think it’s much crawfish tangle on his tail. He’s think, ‘I jus’ wait­in’ some mo’ cause it’s what mek ‘em come lots crawfish. I sure beat ‘im, Ol’ Coon, ketch’em crawfish, then I tell ‘im, I bes’ one fishin’.’ So that Ol’ feller, he’s jus’ waitin’, an’ waitin’ ‘til by-um-by, it’s his tail all freeze in ice; it’s tight one, freeze, you bet’cha.

“He’s waitin’ lit’l mo’, an’ sed to he-self: ‘It’s must-a-be many crawfish now, I think time to jump now.’ So he’s try to jump high, but it’s freeze tight, his tail, an’ jus’ pull h-a-r-d. He’s jus’ almos’ holler, cause it’s make hurt; but he’s jus’ think it’s so lots ov crawfish, he don’ care fo’ lit’l bit hurt. He’s jus’ jump h-a-r-d ‘notha’ time, an’ it’s almos’ pull it off his tail; then he jus’ think, ‘He’s foolish me that Ol’ Coon. He tell lie, he don’ ketch ‘em this way, that crawfish; he’s jus’ lie all-a-time. He’s do me bad one, this trick; but I’ll pay back, I ketch ‘im. He’s fin’ out.’

“Well, anyway, it’s freeze up his tail, all tight plenty; what’s goin’ do get ‘em loose, don’ know, cause it’s hurt much eva’ time he’s try pull ‘em. Jus’ pull ‘em h-a-r-d, it’s ‘bout break it, his tail. He’s feel jus’ b-a-d, now.

“By-um-by, he’s lookin’ ‘roun’, and’ see somethin’ lik’ black nose, right ova’ tha’ in hole, clos’ to bank; then it’s come up lit’l mo’ an’ it’s sharp eye, too, an’ Ol’ Fox he’s sed: ‘O Uncle Beaver, I sure got it bad fix, mebbe so you help me.’ Ol’ Fox he’s go ‘head tell ‘im, Beaver, what’s that he’s tell ‘im do, Ol’ Coon. He’s tell ‘im all ‘bout it Ol’ Fox. Beaver, he’s jus’ lis’n, an’ look like he’s try hard not laff, an’ by-um-­by he’s go back in watah. He’s swim ova’ unda’ ice, an’ he’s work long time, jus’ like eva’thin’, and he’s get ‘em loose Ol’ Fox, his tail; then he’s come up top ‘gen an’ tell ‘em Ol’ Fox: ‘Now I guess you pull ‘em out ice, you tail, my fren’, an’ nex’ time he’s tell you how do somethin’, Ol’ Coon, mebbe so you don’ lis’n good.’

“Ol’ Fox he’s lis’n what say, Ol’ Beaver an’ think it; but he’s want do somethin’, too, so he’s sed it: ‘Uncle, you come, I like fix it somethin’ so I ‘member it what you do.’ Beaver, he jus’ come ova’ by Ol’ Fox, an’ Fox he’s jus’ take hands an’ gatha’ up lots lit’l sof’ white snow, an’ he’s jus’ rub it e-a-s-y all ‘roun’ it’s his nose, Ol’ Beaver. It’s jus’ change color lit’l bit that hairs ‘roun’ his nose, Ol’ Beaver, an’ meks look nice, lit’l bit. It’s jus’ stay that way eva’ since.

“That’s how he say, Old People, long ‘go it’s that way.”

Back to the index

Back to the top