More Wisakadjak Stories

Wisakadjak and the Moose

What has a freight train a got do with a Bull Moose – you ask? Hmm, funny you should ask. Well – nothin’ much I guess – except in the fall – durin’ the rut. That’s when everything with any brains that can make a sound, or move, gives the bull moose a WIDE berth. Cause the moose is on a mission and as far as he’s concerned, anything but a cow moose is the enemy – and HE ain’t afraid of NOTHIN! He might be dumb, but he ain’t afraid – and that’s a fact. The only thing bigger and dumber than a bull moose in fall is a freight train – “Fire Horse” is what Winnetou would call it. It just charges along and don’t pay no mind to nothin’ neither.

I’ve heard tell of a bull moose derailing as many as three boxcars in a single charge. Killed hisself in the process of course, but he didn’t care. The freight train was in no shape to move in on his cows after that either, so he done his duty. The only reason I’m telling you all this is so’s you’ll know what bull mooses are like durin’ the rut – in case you didn’t know already.

Well, I was talkin’ about Wisakadjak, wasn’t I? Come to think of it, Wisakadjak has a thing or two in common with bull mooses. For one, he also only has one thing on his mind – though it’s not the same thing the moose is thinkin’ about. Naw, he’s thinkin’ about food. Well, not so much food itself, but how to talk or trick somebody into givin’ him some. And, like the bull moose, he’s single minded about it too. There ain’t no better or tastier meal than one that somebody else has prepared and he’s able somehow to get it away from him. You’d think that if he only spent a splinter of the time on actual hunting and fishing that he did on figurin’ out how to trick somebody outta his meal, Wisakadjak would never go hungry in a million years. But no, he wouldn’t stoop to doin’ his own huntin’ unless it was a real emergency.

As usual, Wisakadjak was hungry – very hungry, in fact. As usual, nobody was around from whom he could get a free meal. You’da thought – it bein’ fall and everything, there’s be lots of critters around, gathering up food for the winter, but no such luck. No a soul was to be found. It was starting to look like he’d have to do his own hunting. He tried very hard not to think about that, but his stomach wouldn’t shut up until he finally went and got his bow and supply of arrows – not just any bow and arrows – but the big ones! If he was goin’ to have to hunt for hisself, he figured on gettin’ some sizable game. At least it would last him for sometime so he wouldn’t have to think about it again for a while. Well, this WAS an emergency.

All things considered, it was a fine day for hunting. The sun was warm, sending golden streamers onto the colored autumn leaves and downright glinting on the green needles of the spruce forest. A body could almost enjoy hunting. Made you sorta forget about the rest of the world. That’s more or less what Wisakadjak done.

He had almost stopped muttering to himself when he came upon a beautiful clear lake at whose shores a thin band of shrubbery grew as a perfect cover. He crept up to the shore to have a peek through the bushes. Wisakadjak’s eyes popped wide open at what he saw! Out in the middle of the lake was a big, beautiful, fat cow moose havin’ her morning beauty bath, getting’ herself all prissied up in case she met somebody. What luck! Now if she’d only come closer to shore, she’d meet somebody all right. Wisakadjak’s mouth was starting to water already.

Now, you gotta take a minute to visualize this picture to understand what you just know is goin’ to happen next. On the one side – the lake side that is, you got a big nose stickin’ out between the shrubbery, starin’ straight at the cow moose, the shrubbery hung on either side of it. Looks just like a bull moose’s head. On the other side - the spruce forest side that is, you got a big bare bum stickin’ out between the shrubbery, lookin’ for all intents and purposes like a bull moose face. The leaves of the bushes make a perfect set of antlers, wrapped around that bum. And if you’re a real bull moose who just happens to be strollin’ in the spruce forest lookin’ for a cow moose you can already get a whiff of, but just can’t see – durin’ the rut season – well – what would you think if you saw somethin’ like that?

Well, Wisakadjak could see the cow an’ he sure wanted her to come closer so’s he wouldn’t have to jump in the lake to drag her out after he’d shot her. That’d be too much work. No, he’d have to get her attention somehow. So - - - - he hollered his very best moose call at her – just at the very same time that the old bull moose was passin’ by right behind where Wisakadjak was hidin’. All the moose could see through his beady little eyes was what looked to be a strange lookin’ critter, starin’ right at him. That was where the noise had come from! Might be another bull moose!

Well, it all played out like a giant outdoor ballet. The cow heard that sexy, irresistible call an’ started to swim to shore. Wisakadjak saw her comin’ and armed his mighty bow for the kill. Bull Moose finally spotted the bare bum in the bushes and lowered his antlers.

A loud crack of thunder echoed through the spruce forest as a nasty pair of antlers connected dead on with a big bare bum. Wisakadjak shot through the air, skippin’ along the lake water like a thrown pebble until he landed head first into a hollow log on the other side of the lake. The moose – both cow an’ bull, didn’t even seem to notice. They wasn’t thinkin’ about food. They just strolled off down lover’s lane and did what mooses do – in the rut.