Shamanic Vision: Living Life through the Eyes of the Heart Issue #1, Fall 2016 | Page 24

He made some shadow puppets—the young ones loved it when he made
animals shadows with his hands, and even those the shadow animals refused
to laugh this morning.
He ate some of the dried elk his mother had given him and some of the
bread which had become quite hard by now. He set off, looking for a funny
story.
By late afternoon, nothing funny came to him.
Poor Standing Deer!
So he sat on a boulder and threw pebbles into a pond. Splish! Splash! Not
even the fish wanted to share any of their stories with him!
It was then that he heard a sound...a far away sound of the rustle of bushes.
His mind recalled this sound...he saw his friends using the shrubs to answer
natures call. Only one friend of his came out this far—Manish Boy.
“I bet that's him! I'll catch him with his pants down—that will be a funny
story!”
Standing Deer headed in the direction of the sound.
Up and over the boulders and rocks; over the fallen logs and through the
brambles and weeds. He paused and listened...more bush sounds and
breathing too. Standing Deer whispered to the shrubs; “Oh that's him alright
—he breathes like that when he's tired. This will be funny!”
Standing Deer moved with the silence of his namesake; a quiet foot here and
quiet foot there...he crept forward, ears perked up like a deer...listening
carefully with each step...his feet so, so quiet as he moved through the
undergrowth and through the thicket.
24