The old storyteller chuckled. He was used to the pleading tones. They were the price of admission he demanded. If the children pleaded with him in their best manner, he would give them a story. It was the only way he could tell whether the story was wanted or not, and he needed to know. An unwanted story is a sad thing. Tonight the children were pleading their best, and they would get a good story for it.
"Kohlumbe was a smart boy," he began, "for he was the son of the village shaman. He was studying his father's magic in the hope that one day he could fill his father's shoes. For the most part he was like his father. He was good, and knew justice, and knew how to keep the tribe from starving. His father had even been teaching him some of the rituals he would need as a shaman, since he knew Kohlumbe was enough like him to take over one day. He was different in one way, however. Kohlumbe had no respect for animals. He would often trap a small beaver or a squirrel and keep it penned up, or hurt it. He would torture these creatures until he was bored with them, and then he would let them go.
"One day his father came upon Kohlumbe just after he had trapped a small raccoon. He had the coon in a cage, and was poking at it with a stick. The animal kept trying to avoid the stick, and it obviously hurt to be poked with it. 'Kohlumbe,' his father said, 'what are you doing? Did I not teach you to respect the wild ones, especially the smaller ones?'
"Kohlumbe jumped. He had not heard his father coming, as he had been busy prodding the raccoon. 'Yes, father,' he said.
"'Well, you obviously didn't learn the lesson very well! Go into the lodge and stay there until I say you may come out! And don't you try to leave, I will be sitting right here at the door!' his father scolded. Kohlumbe was embarrassed at being found doing something wrong, and he hung his head in shame as he went inside. He knew he had done something wrong, but he was angry with his father for punishing him. There was nothing to do in the lodge, especially nothing he wanted to do on a nice sunny day! He went in anyway, because his father had told him to and he did not want further punishment.
"It didn't take Kohlumbe long to become bored, but he was an imaginative boy. Soon he was playing a game with one of the rocks from the fire circle. Kohlumbe liked to play with rabbits, and he pretended the rock was a rabbit. 'Try to get away, rabbit," he said. He bounced it along the floor of the lodge as though he were holding it by the scruff of the neck.
"He was wondering how he could pretend he was holding it up by the ears, so that he could look into its eyes and listen to it squeak.
It wasn't as much fun as playing with a real rabbit, he thought.
"In a blink the rock was a rabbit, and Kohlumbe was holding it by the scruff of the neck. 'Where did this come from?' he wondered. After all, rabbits didn't just pop out of rocks! He decided it must be a spirit, and then he began to get excited. As a shaman's son, he knew the ritual to enslave a spirit if there was one around. Maybe this staying in the lodge would be fun after all! 'Better yet,' he thought, 'if this is really a spirit that can change one thing into another, then when I enslave him I can make him change me into an animal, and then I can leave without my father seeing me!'
"Quickly, so that the spirit would not have time to get away, Kohlumbe performed the ritual. As soon as he was finished, a voice popped into his head. 'Very well, boy, what is your wish?' Kohlumbe trembled with excitement. He had never enslaved a spirit before. He had also never heard a voice in his head before.
"'I want you to turn me into a field mouse,' he commanded, 'and then I want you to follow me around while I play outside.
"'Very well,' the spirit said, again in Kohlumbe's head. Suddenly Kohlumbe was a field mouse, and the lodge seemed to be a huge hall.
"'Great!' squeaked Kohlumbe, 'Now follow along with me, spirit!' He scurried to the door of the lodge, where his father sat cross-legged at the opening. As quietly as his little feet would allow, he sneaked behind his father and headed for the woods. He wanted to go back and find some real animal to play with, but first he wanted to try out being a field mouse.
"He got quite a ways from the lodge, and pattered along enjoying the warm day from his new perspective. The blades of grass were like small tree trunks, and the pebbles along the way were boulders to him. Best of all, he was outside on a beautiful sunny day instead of inside. Now he could have some fun while he was being punished by his father, he thought.
"Without warning, there was a snarl from behind him. He turned around a bit so that he could see what was there, and got a terrifying view of an enormous mouth full of sharp teeth. It was a wolf! His little heart raced, and he scrambled to one side just as the wolf's teeth came together with a loud 'snap!' Kohlumbe did not know what to do. He could not call out, for no one would hear him as a mouse. The wolf would eat him up for sure! All he wanted was to have some fun, and now here he was about to be eaten by a wolf. If it weren't for the spirit, he wouldn't be in this situation. He started to cry, and then he remembered. The spirit!
"'Oh spirit,' he squeaked, between tiny gulps of breath, 'you are my slave. Change me into - into - a cougar!'
"'Very well,' said the spirit. In a moment the tables were turned on the wolf with the sharp teeth. Kohlumbe was now a snarling cougar, and he turned to face his opponent. The wolf stopped in its tracks, its nose quivering. Kohlumbe looked at the wolf through cougar eyes, bared his yellow cougar teeth, and snarled. Ordinarily, this wolf might have fought a cougar. But this, field mice suddenly turning into ferocious cats, it did not understand. With its tail between its legs, the wolf ran off whimpering
"Kohlumbe just sat there, licking his paw and laughing at the sight of the wolf running off. 'Well done, spirit,' he said. 'Now I can really have some fun. Everyone in the village will be afraid of me.' He turned and padded back toward the village to go see who he could scare.
"As soon as he arrived in the village, there was panic. He played his cougar part well, roaring and chasing after the children, and occasionally stamping the ground with one great fuzzy paw. It was great fun to watch his friends run away in terror, almost as if they were the animals that he loved to torture.
"His fun soon turned sour. There was a drumbeat, one that Kohlumbe recognized. It was the signal that a wild animal was loose in the village. He wondered what sort of animal it might be, and hid behind a lodge where he could watch. It was never a good idea to be out in the open when there was a wild animal around. It was a good way to get hurt.
"Kohlumbe watched around the corner while the warriors got their spears and prepared to kill whatever it was that was stalking the village. They started in a circle in the center of the village, spreading out toward the edges. That way they could cover the most ground, and they could be assured that the animal could not sneak up behind them.
"Soon one of them spotted Kohlumbe. Kohlumbe knew that he would be in big trouble for sneaking out of the lodge with his father, and he quickly tried to think of a way to explain. 'Cougar!' the warrior yelled. 'I found it!' Where? thought Kohlumbe. He looked around quickly, panicking.
"Then Kohlumbe remembered. He was the cougar! With a startled shout that came out as a roar, he tore off away from the warrior and into the woods. This was worse than being chased by a wolf! There was a whistle, and suddenly a spear struck the tree ahead of him. He ran faster, as fast as his feline legs could carry him. 'Spirit,' he gasped, 'please - I want to be myself again!' He heard the voice again in his head. 'Very well,' it said.Then he ducked behind a bush and closed his eyes tight, hoping the warrior would not find him.
"He opened his eyes to find the warrior tugging at his arm. It was Kotaunka, who had just become a warrior in a ceremony at the last full moon. 'Kohlumbe, come. There is a cougar nearby.'
"'No, Kotaunka - I - I saw him run off,' Kohlumbe lied.
"'But he may be back. I will take you to your father's lodge.' Kohlumbe knew he could not refuse the warrior, and he went along. He didn't know whether he would rather face the spear or his father. Kotaunka started to talk excitedly about how they would have to hunt for the cougar, but Kohlumbe couldn't listen. All he could think about was his father, standing there, looking down at him with an angry look on his face.
"When they got back to the lodge, his father was there, looking exactly as Kohlumbe had pictured him. 'I have brought back your son, Shaman,' Kotaunka said, 'I found him in the woods just after he saw the cougar run off. I was chasing it down.'
"'Thank you, Kotaunka,' Kohlumbe's father said, without removing his eyes from Kohlumbe, 'you may go now.' Kotaunka went as commanded. 'Well?' his father asked. 'How did you get out, and why did you leave when I commanded you not to?'
"It was sudden. Kohlumbe could think of nothing to tell him except the truth, so that is what he told his father, from start to finish. Besides, Kohlumbe was an honest boy, and he already felt guilty about lying to Kotaunka. His father listened carefully to the whole story.
"'You must go and apologize to each of the warriors,' the shaman said, 'for causing the false alarm. Then you must do chores for Kotaunka for a week for lying to him.' He didn't mention anything about Kohlumbe's original punishment, to stay in the lodge.
"'But father,' Kohlumbe asked, 'what about staying in the lodge?'
"'Well, I don't know. I did tell you to stay inside. But I think the spirit did a better job of punishing you. Will you bother any of our animal friends any more?' his father asked him.
"'No,' Kohlumbe answered, truthfully. After what he'd been through, it would probably be a while before he even looked at an animal, let alone touched one.
"'Then I was right, and you have learned your lesson. You may choose whether or not you continue your punishment. But there is one more thing.'
"'What is it, father?'
"'Turn the spirit loose.'
The storyteller sighed and relaxed, and sent the children away. They asked him for another, but one story was enough for one night. Stories are important in a child's life, he thought, but it is also important not to overdo it.
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I hope you enjoyed this work. It is copyrighted 1995 by Steven Coallier.