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  <-|->    Info: Three stories ov thee Coyote
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Child of Chaos 
Coyote: a Folkloric Triad 
by: Josepha Sherman
[The World & I - April 1990]

Coyote ... mischief maker, child of chaos, creator-by-chance. Coyote...the 
unpredictable whose pranks, somehow, tend to Set Things Right...Coyote, there 
at the very Beginning. Trickster tales remind us that life isn't necessarily
fair, but that nothing, no matter how unhappy, lasts forever. The amoral 
trickster, as befits his shape-shifting, unpredictable nature, can be a force 
of wild, primal power, acting on mere whim. He assumes many guises and roles: 
the Greek god of wine and chaos Dionysus; High John, the black slave who 
always gets the better of his master and is the breath of hope to an enslaved 
people; or folk heroes such as the German medieval Till Eulenspiegel, the 
English Robin Hood, and even modern cartoon characters who give us the relief 
of laughter and the vicarious triumph of 'little' people over the pompous, 
bureaucratic, or tyrannical. Coyote is the form of trickster common to the 
Native Americans of the West, Southwest, and Great Plains. Anyone who has 
followed the coyote's triumphs over those who have been trying for the last 
two hundred years to eradicate him with traps, poison and guns can understand 
why he was chosen as a mythic symbol. The following stories are examples of 
the vast lore surrounding Coyote, whose offspring can even today be heard 
howling within an hour's drive of most major American metropolises.

A Zuni Tale: The theft of Sun and Moon.

At the very beginning of things neither sun nor moon were in the sky. The 
Kachinas, the spirit people, kept them, safe and secret, in a box that they 
opened whenever they wished some light. Without the sun, the world was always 
dark. Without the moon, there were no seasons; the world was never cold nor 
warm, never white with snow nor green with leaves. Coyote thought this was a 
sorry state of affairs. He liked change, did sly Coyote - most certainly, 
since he was a clumsy hunter in the darkness shrouding the world. 'Ho, Eagle 
Chief,' he called, 'let us form a hunting partnership. Two hunters should do 
better than one.' Haughty Eagle looked down at Coyote and laughed. What, he, 
the keen of eye and mighty of wing, make a pact with a flightless ground 
crawler? But he remembered that Coyote, the sly one, could steal an eagles 
meal, even in the darkness. Better to keep Coyote in the open, where he could 
play no pranks! So Eagle agreed to the partnership.
   
But even so, Coyote caught nothing but bugs. 

'Bah! How can anyone do any decent hunting in all this darkness? Tell me, 
Eagle, you who fly so high, have you ever seen any light in your travelings?'

'Why, yes, from time to time I have seen a flickering of light in the west, 
where the Kachinas live'
   
'Then west, we shall go.'
   
Eagle soared lightly in the winds. Coyote, wingless, had to struggle through 
desert and mountain, river and mud. But he would not give up, not he! There at 
last lay the camp of the Kachinas. Coyote and Eagle hid and watched. Eagle 
stared at the Kachinas sacred dances. But Coyote only stared at a strange dark 
box. When one of the Kachinas opened it a crack, golden light poured out. When 
one of the Kachinas opened it halfway, silver light poured out.
   
'That's what we want,' Coyote whispered. 'We must steal that box!'

'All you think about is theft!' Eagle whispered back. 'I will go and ask the 
Kachinas if they will let us borrow their box of light.'
   
Coyote watched as Eagle approached the Kachinas and demanded the box of light. 
He watched as the angry Kachinas threw stones to chase Eagle, bruised and 
squawking, back into the sky. But while all the Kachinas were chasing Eagle, 
Coyote the sly slid silently into their camp, caught up the box of light in 
his jaws, and scurried away.
   
But the box was heavy. Coyote's jaws were getting tired. Eagle swooped down to 
join him. 

'Here, give me the box. I can carry it more easily in my talons.'
   
He snatched it up and flew away. Coyote ran after him, panting. 'Hey, Eagle 
Chief! Let me carry the box again.'

'No, no, you will spoil everything.'

'You only want to see what's inside.'
   
Coyote yelled up at Eagle, 'Whose sides ache from the Kachinas blows? Not 
mine! Who stole away the box with never a bruise? Not You! Now, let me have 
the box.'
   
The box was heavy. Eagle swooped down again. 'Take it. But don't open it!'
   
But as Eagle soared up into the sky once more, Coyote studied the box. And 
curiosity began to burn and burn within him. Could the sun and moon really be 
inside? Surely there could be no harm in opening the box just a bit...
   
A ray of golden light shot out and hit him right in the eyes! Coyote yelped - 
and let the lid fly open. In a blaze of gold, the sun flashed up into the 
heavens. The first day had begun.
   
'Well now,' Coyote said, admiring his grey coat in the sunlight. 'That's not 
bad, not bad at all.'
   
He watched the sun move across the sky till it was out of sight and darkness 
came again. Eagle came flapping hurriedly back. 'What have you done? You've 
let the sun escape!'
   
'It will return,' Coyote said placidly.

'No, no, you've spoiled everything!'

Angry Eagle lunged at Coyote. Coyote dodged - but as he did, he knocked over 
the box. The moon came shooting out and flashed up into the heavens. High rose 
the moon, higher yet, and the world grew chill. Leaves dropped from the trees, 
and an icy wind blew. The first season had begin, and it was winter.
   
'What have you done?' Eagle shrieked. 'You've brought cold into the world!'

True enough. But Coyote, ruffling his fur, only grinned. Why, things had 
worked out even better than he'd planned! For he had also brought day into the 
world, and night. He had brought winter, spring, summer, fall. He had given 
the world variety, never-ending changes enough to please even the wily grey 
trickster himself.

A Caddo tale: How Coyote kept death for the people

In the early days, when the rules of the world were still being set up, the 
people of power held a council meeting. And at that meeting was Coyote, the 
trickster, the thinker.

'Why should there be death?' pondered the people that day. 'Let us do away 
with it.'

'Death is already a law,' Coyote reminded them. 'You cannot cancel it so 
easily.'
   
'Then we shall change the law!' the people cried. 'Folk will still die, yes - 
but they shall not stay dead forever.'

Quickly the growing plan flew from one person to the next.

'We shall build a great lodge,' their chief medicine man said at last. 'It 
shall be a place of great power. Into it the spirits of the newly dead shall 
fly. And out of it they shall walk, living folk once more.'
   
'How very nice it sounds,' Coyote drawled. 'But you forget one thing, oh wise 
ones. If folk keep right on being born, yet no one stays dead, the world will 
be a crowded place pretty soon. How are you going to feed all those people, oh 
wise ones? Where are you going to put them?'

No, no, the people would not listen to Coyote. They chased him away with angry 
shouts. They would build the lodge of Power and that was that! But Coyote, 
watching for a secret place while the medicine men spoke their spells and 
chanted their chants, grinned to himself. He added his own quiet, sly spell to 
those set on the lodge of Power and hid to see what would come next.
   
It was not long before a human man died. The medicine men played their flutes 
of bone, luring and tempting, and the dead man's spirit whirled on the wind, 
drawn towards the lodge by their magic. In another moment it would enter, and 
return a living man.
   
But Coyote was swifter than spirit, swifter than wind! He leaped out from 
hiding in a blur of grey fur and slammed the lodge's door shut.
   
'No!' the people of power cried.
   
But it was too late. The spirit whined and whirled about the lodge. But the 
door was too firmly closed. The spirit could not enter, and the power of the 
bone flutes was broken. The spirit whirled away on its proper path away from 
the land of the living, and Coyote laughed.
   
'Thanks to me, the power of your lodge is gone!' he called to the people. 
'When the first spirit failed to enter, that lodge became nothing more than a 
useless grass hut!'
   
That was all Coyote had time to say. In the next moment, all the furious 
people of power were chasing him. Of course he escaped, the sly grey one. But 
from that day to this, all coyotes still run with their heads looking over 
their shoulders, just in case the people of power - who refuse to admit how 
Coyote's trick saved the world - might be catching up to them.

A Kiowa tale: Coyote and the Stranger.

Coyote was going along one day, trotting down the desert way, when he saw the 
dust of a horse and rider. White man coming! And look at the fancy rig on him!

Well, old Coyote was a shape shifter, of course. In no time. he had taken 
manshape, looking just like a poor man of the people, dark skin, black hair. 
Only his eyes were odd, the mocking green eyes of the trickster.
   
Did the stranger know him by those eyes? Maybe. For the man pointed right at 
Coyote and said, 'Heard there's someone around here who fancies himself a 
cheater. Someone by the name of Coyote.'

CHEATER! Coyote thought indignantly. A fine name for someone who set the sun 
in the sky! 'Might be,' he answered smoothly, bland of face. But behind that 
blank mask, his busy mind was plotting.
   
'Ha, you're Coyote, I know it! But I'm a better cheater than you. Ain't a man 
alive who can out-trick me, surely not some worn out old Indian! Come on, try 
me!'

Now, here was a pretty bird, just asking to be plucked! Coyote grinned lazily, 
tongue lolling out. 'The day's too warm.'

'Try me! Try to cheat me!'

'No. The suns too hot.'

'You're afraid! You're scared to have a cheating match with me.'
   
Coyote sighed. 'Trouble is, I left my cheating medicine back home.'

'Well, go get it.'

'It's too far. I'm too tired. You want a cheating match, better wait till 
another day. Or lend me your horse so I can get there and back again.'
   
The stranger thought that one over just for a minute, so eager was he to show 
what a mighty trickster he was. He jumped down from the saddle. But Coyote 
slyly moved upwind of the horse. And it, smelling the not-human scent of him, 
shied, eyes rolling, ears twitching.
   
'He's scared of me because I don't have a white man's hat,' Coyote said. 'Let 
me borrow yours.'

'Here, take it. Go get your cheating medicine.'
   
But Coyote still stood upwind. And of course the horse still shied. Coyote 
shrugged. 'He's scared of me because I don't wear a white man's clothes. Guess 
our match is off.'

But the stranger was so eager to prove himself, he peeled out of his fancy 
shirt and pants and boots without a moments thought. 'Here, try them.'
   
Coyote slid into the alien clothes, leaving the man in only his long johns. 
With the alien hat on his head, Coyote moved downwind. Unable to scent him, 
the horse stood still. Coyote mounted an urged it into a trot. But then, 
safely out of reach, old Coyote reined in the horse again, looked back at the 
denuded man, and grinned.

'Well, stranger. ' he called. 'Are you content? Learned your lesson?'

'Lesson? what are you talking about?'

'Look down at yourself, stranger. No clothes, no horse. Look down and admit: 
No man living can trick Coyote!'

'Why you sly, no-good son of a - You come back here!' he raged.

But with a wave of his hand, Coyote rode away.