American Indian Trickster Tales (Myths and Legends) (23 page)

OH
,
IT’S YOU!

{
Lakota
}

Iktomi is always horny. He only thinks about copulating. There was a beautiful young girl in the village, with sparkling come-hither eyes, shining long raven hair, heaving bosoms, and the graceful, undulating movements of a cat. From the first moment he saw her, Iktomi thought only about how he could induce her to sleep with him.

He waited at the brook where the women went to fetch water, and when the beautiful girl came there with her water bag, Iktomi played love tunes on his
siyotanka,
the flute used for courting, and tried to beguile her with his tunes. But Iktomi was not at all good-looking, his figure was not in the least imposing, and his manners were deplorable. So the girl showed in the many ways that women have, without saying it in so many words, that she had not the slightest intention of letting him get close to her. The expression on her face made it obvious that Iktomi was repulsive to her.

Still Iktomi was after her, following her wherever she went, whispering suggestive words, saying what a great lover he was and what pleasures she was missing by rejecting his advances.

The beautiful girl was annoyed. She thought it was an insult that such a low, unappealing, unmannered fellow like Iktomi wanted to make love to her. So she went to Iktomi’s wife. “Auntie,” she said, “that lustful husband of yours wants to do
tawiton,
have sex, with me.”

“Is that the only news you can give me? There is not a girl or woman in the village he doesn’t want to do
tawiton
with.”

“Well, what do you want to do about this?”

“That louse-ridden, lying
hlete,
good-for-nothing fellow. He no longer cares to make love to me. He says I am too old for him, he with his gray hair and potbelly! Too old, hah! I’m younger than he is. I wish I could catch him in the act and give him the beating he deserves.”

“Auntie, what will you give me if I arrange it so that you can play a trick on him and, at the same time, catch him trying to commit
wawičihahahapi,
adultery?”

“I would gladly give you my best horse and my best beaded and quilled dance outfit.”

“That sounds good to me, auntie. Here is what we will do. I’ll invite that
wawičihaha
of yours to come to spend the night with me. Tomorrow there will be no moon. It will be very dark. You will take my place. When he comes, you’ll pretend you are me.”

“I can hardly wait,” said Mrs. Iktomi.

So next morning the beautiful girl went to the brook, as always, to fetch water. And, naturally, Iktomi was already there with his love flute. “I’m beginning to warm up to you,” the beautiful girl said to Iktomi.

“Come to think, you are rather cute. My tipi is over there, the one with the sun design painted on it. I live alone, except for my grandmother, who is blind and deaf. She won’t notice anything. But you must come after it is dark. I don’t want people to see you. I don’t like them gossiping about me.”

“Why, well, of course, my beautiful
winčinčala.
You won’t regret it. I am the greatest lover of them all! Oh, what a
yasinsin,
orgasm, I’ll give you! It will leave you limp and panting with delight.”

“I can hardly wait,” said the beautiful girl.

That night Mrs. Iktomi took the place of the beautiful girl in the girl’s tipi. “Don’t mind
unci,
grandmother,” the girl told Mrs. Iktomi. “She is blind and deaf and sleeps all the time. Thunder could not wake her. She won’t notice anything.”

“Washtay,
good, let’s get on with it.”

Mrs. Iktomi was lying in the place where the beautiful girl used to sleep, waiting for her cheating husband. She did not have long to wait. As soon as it was dark Iktomi crept into the tipi. He went to where his wife was stretched out. He embraced her.
“Imaputake,
” he said, “kiss me!” And
“Washte chilake,
I love you. How sweet your breath is compared to my old woman.” He felt her all over. “Oh, what a beautiful, firm little body you have, not lumpy and saggy like that of my wife. What a joy to make love to a young, beautiful girl instead of to an old, ugly hag!”

Iktomi felt between his wife’s legs. “Ah, how pleasingly moist your
shan,
vagina, is compared to the dried, shriveled-up one of my wife.” He panted. He mounted her. They did it. Iktomi fell asleep. When he awoke he saw that it was his wife he had done it with. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “I knew it was you all the time. Wasn’t it great?”

Mrs. Iktomi had a heavy club. She used it on her husband. She beat him black and blue. He howled with pain.

“I’ll give you ‘sagging breasts,’ ” she shouted. “I’ll give you ‘lumpy body.’ I’ll give you
‘shan puza
, dried-up vagina.’ This old hag will beat the shit out of you!”

“Ow, ow, have pity, wife! I’ll never stray again.”

Iktomi was very sore for quite a long time, but no beating could keep him from philandering. Soon he was at it again.

{
Lakota
}

Iktomi was traveling. He came to a village of about forty tipis. He saw many women in this camp, but no men. He asked one of the women: “Where are your men?”

“I don’t know what men are,” said the woman. “I don’t know what
men
means.”

“You are joking,” said Iktomi.

“No,” said the woman, “I am not. You ask too many questions. If you want to know something, you have to ask our two women chiefs.”

“Where can I find them?”

“Over there, in the big tipi, right in the center.”

Iktomi went there. Inside the big tipi he found the two women chiefs. Each of them was holding a cradleboard. In one cradleboard was a baby rabbit, in the other a baby fox. “What are these for?” Iktomi wanted to know.

“These are our children,” said the women chiefs.

“Who are the fathers?” Iktomi inquired.

“We don’t know what
father
means,” said the women.

“Fathers are the ones who help make babies.”

“These babies made themselves. They just popped out of us, from here.” The women pointed to a place between their legs.

“Don’t you have any men around here?” Iktomi asked.

“We don’t know what men are.”

Iktomi said to himself: “These women have never been with a man, that’s why they give birth only to rabbits and foxes.” Aloud he said: “I want to show you something.”

Iktomi pushed his breechcloth aside and showed them his man-thing. It was standing up proudly. The woman with the rabbit looked closely at it. She looked at it for a long time. “This is a very strange thing,” she said. “I have never seen one like it. How come I don’t have a root like this?”

“Because I am a man and you are a woman. All men have it and it is not a root, it’s a
wichasha-che.”

“What is it good for?” the woman wanted to know.

“It’s for copulating.”

“What is copulating?” she asked.

“It means ‘making babies.’ ”

“How?”

“You have a certain place in your body where you put this thing of mine. It fits perfectly. You put it in there and, after a while, you have a baby—not a little rabbit or fox, but a real human being.”

“All right, where do you put it?” Iktomi was only too happy to show her. He slipped his penis into her vagina. “That feels good,” said the woman. Iktomi started to move back and forth. “Now it feels even better,” cried the woman. “Move faster, move harder! Don’t stop!”

They finished. Iktomi withdrew. “What do you call what we just did?” the woman wanted to know.

“We did
tawiton,
we copulated.”

“Oh, that’s what it was.”

Then the other woman-chief, the one with the fox baby, said: “I want to have a look at that strange root of yours.” Iktomi showed it to her. It was flaccid. “It looks like a worm or a slug,” said the woman. “It doesn’t look as if it could do anything worthwhile.”

“Just wait, and you’ll see it standing up again.”

“Well, go ahead, make it rise, hurry!” After a while Iktomo’s
che
was standing up again. He put it into the fox-baby chieftess. “Ah, this is good indeed,” she said. Thus the two women chiefs were satisfied.

Then the two women chiefs came out of their tipi and called out: “You women, do you want to know what a man is like? There is one in our tipi. Do you want to know what copulation is like? He’ll show you. Do you each want to have a baby? He’ll make you one. So come and meet the creature called MAN.”

Then the women crowded into the tipi to
tawiton
with Iktomi. There were so many of them that most had to wait for their turn outside. “Have pity!” cried Iktomi. “This is too much of a good thing. What you admire so much cannot stand up all the time. It needs a long rest. Right now it’s only good for making water.”

The women would not listen. They said: “We’ll beat you until you do
tawiton
with us.” Then they hit him with sticks. He managed to satisfy a few of them, but then became totally exhausted. He almost fainted. But more and more women crowded in on him, shouting, “My turn now! My turn now!” and beating him unmercifully when he could not do what they wanted.

He said to himself: “I started something I cannot finish. Will I ever learn?” Aloud he said: “You wild women, if you want my
die
to rise up again, you must let me walk about a bit. That’s the only way get it to rise.”

“All right, go and walk about,” they said. Iktomi walked about in ever widening circles. When he thought that he had a sufficient head start, he began to run as fast as he could.

“Stop him!” yelled the women. “This good-for-nothing man is running away from us. After him!”

Iktomi got to a river ahead of them. He saw a single canoe there. He jumped into it and paddled furiously. The women could not follow. They stood at the riverbank wailing and shaking their fists.

Over his shoulder Iktomi cried out to them: “So long, women! Sometime I’ll see you again. I enjoyed meeting you!” He got to the far bank and walked off. “Well. I taught them something new,” he said to himself.

{
Lakota and Rosebud Sioux
}