Trickster Eats the Laxative Bulb (Winnebego)

 

Trickster Eats the Laxative Bulb (§11 of the Trickster Cycle, Winnebego)

Richard L. Dieterle

As Trickster was walking along aimlessly, he heard what sounded like a voice. He listened very carefully and he could hear it sing,

If you eat me you will defecate

You will defecate.

Trickster wondered, "Why is this person saying such things?" So Trickster went in the direction of the sound, until he heard quite distinctly someone singing,

If you eat me you will defecate

You will defecate.

"I wonder whose saying such things," said Trickster, "as I know if I eat it I'm not going to defecate." Now he carefully followed the sound of the voice, and there, unexpectedly, he found that it came from a bulb or tubercle that was growing on a weed. So he broke it off and ate the whole thing, then went merrily on his way.

As Trickster walked along, he said out loud, laughing, "I wonder what happened to that bulb with the big mouth that said I would defecate? I'll defecate when I feel like it, and surely no plant can ever make me defecate when I don't want to." Thus he spoke, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth than he broke wind. "Well," said Trickster, "I guess this is what it must have meant; but still I am not defecating. Even a great one like myself will expel a bit of gas every now and then." But before he could even finish speaking, he again broke wind, and the sound of it echoed off the hills. "I wonder if this is why I am called 'foolish,' and 'Trickster'?" he said. Then he began to break wind over and over again. "Well," he said, "this must be why the bulb said what it did." Then he broke wind so hard that his rectum was nearly ripped. Trickster said with some pride, "That surely was a great one." Then he broke wind again, and the force of the expulsion drove him forward. He said to himself, "Well, well, I guess I could push a little, but I definitely will not defecate." Just then he broke wind with such force that his ass was launched off the ground, and he landed on his hands and knees. "Go ahead, do it again. See if I care!" he said angrily; and no sooner had he said it, than he broke wind with such power that he flew through the air and landed on his stomach. This time he was determined to stabilize himself, so he grabbed hold of a log, but when he broke wind both he and the log were launched into the air, and when he came down the log landed on top of him. He was nearly killed. So this time he ran over to a poplar tree and wrapped his arms around it; even so, when he broke wind his fee left the ground and the tree arched with the impact. This time he held the poplar with all his strength, but with a loud noise, he flipped upside down and pulled the tree out by its roots. This time he had to find a tree worthy of his problem. He finally came to an oak which he embraced with both arms. When he broke wind he was able to hold on, but he was knocked upside down so that his toes struck the tree.

Then trickster ran down to a small village and shouted, "Enemies! A large warparty is coming this way — quick, take down your lodges and let's get out of here!" So they disassembled their lodges and piled the twigs on top of Trickster. Then they gathered together their dogs and put them on top of the mountain of twigs. Then Trickster broke wind so hard that everything and everyone was scattered far and wide — the twigs and the dogs seemed to rain from heaven. People began to call out to one another, so far apart they had been scattered; and the dogs howled to one another. This trick made Trickster laugh until his sides hurt.

After that, he went on his way and felt pretty good. It seemed like his problems were over. "Well, that tubercle was a big talker," he said, "but I see that I have yet to defecate." Just the same, he felt a little like he could defecate. "Well, I guess that's what it meant when it said that," he said. Then he couldn't help himself, but had to defecate. "It seems that this is want it meant, but it sure was bragging considering." No sooner had he said that, than he really began to defecate. As he squatted, the pile of excrement got so high that it touched his body, so he climbed on top of a log to get some clearance. Soon the dung piled so high that he moved to a log that was leaning against a tree, but even there the pile of excrement touched his body. He could not stop defecating, and had to climb higher and higher. Soon he reached the top of the little tree, but even there the pile of dung mounted up until it reached him. Soon the limb that he was sitting on had become thoroughly manured, and when he tried to shift positions, he slipped and fell into his own hill of excrement. He disappeared in to the pile and it took quite some time for him to work his way out of it. When he finally escaped, he was covered with filth, and dragged excrement after him. His back pack and the box in which he kept his penis were both covered with dung, so he emptied the box and placed it again on his back. However, even his eyes were caked with filth and as he stumbled about, he ran right into a tree. He sang to it:

Tree, what kind are you?
Tell me about yourself.

"What kind of tree do you think I am?" it answered. "I am a forked oak tree, the one that used to be in the middle of the valley — that's who I am," said the tree. Trickster replied, "Can you tell me where the nearest water is?" "Go straight ahead," it said. Then Trickster stumbled about some more until he hit a tree so hard that he was knocked over backwards. He sang,

Tree, what kind are you?
Tell me about yourself.

"What kind of tree do you think I am?" it answered. "I am the red oak that used to stand at the edge of the valley. That's who I am." "Is it possible," said Trickster urgently, "that there is some water around here?" The tree replied, "It's straight ahead." He ran straight forward, but soon knocked against another tree. So he sang again,

Tree, what kind are you?
Tell me about yourself.

"What kind of tree do you think I am?" it answered. "I am the slippery elm that used to be in the middle of the forest. That's who I am." "Just go straight forward as you have been," advised the tree, but when he did, he collided with another tree. He put his hands on it and sang,

Tree, what kind are you?
Tell me about yourself.

"What kind of tree do you think I am?" it answered. "I am the basswood tree that used to stand at the edge of the water. That's who I am." "It is good!" exclaimed Trickster, and jumped straight forward into the water. He washed himself thoroughly. It was very difficult, for the dung had been on him so long that it had dried. Had not the trees helped him, he would surely have died. After he washed himself off, he washed his raccoon skin blanket and his penis box.1

 

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