Orson’s Sneaky River Flute — By the bright, noisy river, Orson tapped a cedar reed with one claw: tok, tok, tok. Read the full story →
By the bright, noisy river, Orson tapped a cedar reed with one claw: tok, tok, tok. He wanted to make a flute that could copy the water’s gurgle, not with magic, but with his own two paws. The mountains smelled of wet stone and pine sap, and every time he blew into the reed, it answered, “Pffft,” which made the chipmunks fall over laughing.
Orson shaved the mouthpiece smoother, rinsed it in the cold current, and tried again. This time the flute went, “Bloo-werp!” A salmon burst from the rapids as if the sound had tickled its fins. Orson opened his mouth in surprise, and the salmon flashed past his nose, carrying a curled strip of birch bark tucked under one shiny scale.
The bark was not a message from anyone important. It was Orson’s own first crooked wood shaving, folded by the river into a tiny whistle reed. He fitted it inside the flute, blew once, and the whole stream burbled back, “Tok, tok, tok!” If you spot the leaping salmon, you’ll know exactly where the river hid Orson’s best handmade note.
