looked out of the corners of his eyes without moving his head. He
watched the wily Iktomi concocting a plot.

"Yes, yes," said Iktomi, suddenly turning his gaze upon the
unwelcome visitor;

"I shall carry a large stone on my back. That will slacken my
usual speed; and the race will be a fair one."

Saying this he laid a firm hand upon the muskrat's shoulder
and started off along the edge of the lake. When they reached the
opposite side Iktomi pried about in search of a heavy stone.

He found one half-buried in the shallow water. Pulling it out
upon dry land, he wrapped it in his blanket.

"Now, my friend, you shall run on the left side of the lake,
I on the other. The race is for the boiled fish in yonder kettle!"
said Iktomi.

The muskrat helped to lift the heavy stone upon Iktomi's back.
Then they parted. Each took a narrow path through the tall reeds
fringing the shore. Iktomi found his load a heavy one.
Perspiration hung like beads on his brow. His chest heaved hard
and fast.

He looked across the lake to see how far the muskrat had gone,
but nowhere did he see any sign of him. "Well, he is running low
under the wild rice!" said he. Yet as he scanned the tall grasses
on the lake shore, he saw not one stir as if to make way for the