The dawn came slowly as the sun tried to fight its way through the mist
that hung in the valleys. The spring had been cool, and for nearly a
moon rain had been drenching the ground. By midmorning, the sun had
burned away the haze, and its rays beat down upon the little Kickapoo
village, warming and drying everything that had been wet and cold for so
long.
When Little Snapping Turtle walked from his father’s wigwam and saw the
bright sun and the blue skies, he called to his father who was still
inside.
“Father, father, come here! See, the sun has won. The storm clouds have
run from the battle with the sun. Once again we have light and warmth.
Is this not a good reason for a celebration?”
“Yes, my son, it is reason enough for you and your friends to celebrate.
But we should be glad for the rain we have had because it makes the
forest green and gives the streams new strength and makes the lakes rise
so that all the animals may drink. Of course, it has also kept the young
braves in their houses, so now that the sun is out again we should have
a celebration.”
“What shall we do, father? Can we go on a hunt or a fishing trip? Can
we, father?”
“No, my son, there is not time for that yet. Now that the sun is with us
again, there is much gardening to do right here in the village. But late
this afternoon we shall have a race to see who has lost the most speed
during this lazy vacation. Go to the other young braves in the tribe and
tell them that I, Big Snapping Turtle, Medicine Man of the Kickapoo
tribe, will give a fine belt and knife as a prize to the young brave who
wins the race this afternoon.”
“What kind of a race will it be, father?”
“Oh, it would not be fair to tell you, my young son, for then you would
have an advantage over the other young braves. Just spread the news and
this afternoon we will gather in the meadow for the race.”
Eagerly Little Snapping Turtle ran to tell all the young boys to gather
in the meadow north of the village late in the afternoon for a race. He
also told them about the prize that any young brave would want. Most of
the boys he talked to were working hard in the gardens to make up for
time lost during the rain. But they stopped long enough to listen
excitedly to the news Little Snapping Turtle brought. All of them said
they would be there, and then went back to work. The rain had been good
for the seed, but it had also been good for the weeds. When Little
Snapping Turtle got back home, he went to work cheerfully with his
father in their garden to clear out the weeds.
Finally the time neared for the big contest, and the young boys began to
gather in the meadow. Soon every boy in the village was present, and Big
Snapping Turtle stepped to the front to explain the rules.
He first gave each boy a small container made of birch bark. After this
had been done, Big Snapping Turtle signaled for all to be quiet.
“A quarter of a mile from here there are several small lakes,” he said.
“In one of those lakes, as you know, there are some very small fish.
Each of you has a container. At the signal you will run to that lake and
trap a small fish. Making sure to keep the fish in the container, you
will run back to the meadow. The first boy to return with a fish still
alive in the container will win the race. Then after the prize has been
awarded, we will put all the fish you caught into the stream that runs
through our village so that they can swim to the great lake to the
south.”
The boys waited impatiently for the signal. When it was given, they
shouted and laughed as they raced toward the lake that held the small
fish. Little Snapping Turtle soon was far ahead of the other young boys.
When he reached the lake shore, he waded knee deep into the lake and
placed his container halfway under and then stood perfectly still,
waiting for the curious little fish to swim into the trap.
As he stood there quietly, peering at the sandy bottom, several of the
others arrived and began to follow his lead. Soon there were fifteen or
twenty of them spread out near the shore standing motionless waiting for
the fish. Now and then a boy would shout that he had made a catch only
to find that the fish had escaped.
Finally patience rewarded Little Snapping Turtle. With a flick of his
wrist, Little Snapping Turtle scooped his container into the water. When
he looked into it, he discovered that he had trapped two fish instead of
one. Quickly he waded toward shore and he saw that two boys had also
trapped their fish and were on the way back to the meadow. He stopped
only a moment to tear a large leaf from a plant that grew along the lake
shore. Then he wrapped it tightly over the mouth of the container and
started running again.
The two boys were running swiftly ahead of him along the trail, each
with a container in his hand. Suddenly, one of the boys slipped and fell
and his container and fish went flying off into the brush. Now only one
boy, Crying Hawk, stood between Little Snapping Turtle and victory.
Using all the strength he had, he began to catch up with the young boy
ahead of him.
As he began to pass Crying Hawk, he noticed that the boy was limping.
Looking at the boy’s feet, he saw that Crying Hawk’s moccasins were
loose, and he guessed that a pebble must have fallen into one of them.
The boy stopped to take the pebble out. As he did, Little Snapping
Turtle sped by him. Turning to look at Crying Hawk, Little Snapping
Turtle found that the boy had just sat down and was crying. He stopped
and went back to him.
“What is the trouble, Crying Hawk?” Little Snapping Turtle asked kindly.
“I thought that for once I could win a game and own a new knife and
belt. But a pebble has cut my foot, and I cannot hope to win now. I was
lucky enough to catch my fish first and I thought that I had a good head
start. But as it always has happened, an accident will make me lose the
race. I will never be a winner. Don’t wait for me, Little Snapping
Turtle. If you stay with me any longer, the other boys will catch up
with you.”
Then Little Snapping Turtle remembered that Crying Hawk had never won
any contest. He was a little slower than the other boys, and not so
skilled as many of them. He, Little Snapping Turtle, had won many
contests and many prizes. Quickly he took off his own new doeskin
moccasins and slipped them onto Crying Hawk’s feet.
“These will protect your feet,” he told Crying Hawk. “Run quickly now,
for you still have a chance. Take my container, too. I have sealed a
leaf tightly over the top and little water will spill. Today you will
win the race.”
Crying Hawk started to complain, but Little Snapping Turtle silenced
him. He pulled the other boy to his feet and, shoving the container into
his hand, sent him on his way. With the new moccasins, the boy ran more
easily and soon was out of sight. Little Snapping Turtle picked up
Crying Hawk’s container and put his feet into the ill-fitting moccasins.
He trotted slowly after Crying Hawk, keeping just far enough behind to
make sure the boy would win.
He heard several pairs of feet moving swiftly along the trail just in
back of him. From here to the meadow, the trail narrowed and only one
boy could use it at one time. So Little Snapping Turtle kept his slow
pace and kept the others from passing Crying Hawk. Little Snapping
Turtle could see the clearing now and he sped toward the meadow. There
he saw Crying Hawk standing proudly next to Little Snapping Turtle’s
father. He ran up to Crying Hawk.
“Say nothing of what happened on the trail,” he whispered. “You have run
a good race, Crying Hawk.”
Soon all the boys were back and the inspection of the containers began.
When Big Snapping Turtle had seen all of them, he stepped to the front
and declared Crying Hawk the winner. Everyone cheered as the boy
received the knife and belt from the smiling Medicine Man. Then they all
started back toward the village to place the fish in the stream and then
go home.
As Little Snapping Turtle and his father walked along the trail, the
Medicine Man asked, “Where did you get that container, my son?”
Little Snapping Turtle blushed as he looked up at his father, but his
father smiled. “It is well, my son. I knew each container that I had
given out and at the end of the race you did not have the one you had
started with. I also noticed the beautiful moccasins that Crying Hawk
was wearing. I discovered, too, how big my son’s heart really is. Today
you lost a race, but the happiness you won is the best possible prize.”