A long, long time ago when the world was young and fresh before hatred and greed and strife were known, Eagle, Dear, Elk, Fox, Coyote, and all the other animals and birds lived in peace and harmony together.

Coyote’s home was in a lovely but lonely place far away from everyone. There he had no one to talk with, no one to play with, no one to feast and dance with. At last he became so lonesome that he decided to invite all his friends to a great feast and festival. If they had a good time, as he thought they would, he would invite them once every year.

So he set to work and built rapids in the river, rapids that ended in a waterfall. Then he made a big kettle out of stone, with legs under it, and hung it over the falls. He built a fish-trap also of stone.

Beside the waterfall he made a stone seat, where he could sit and watch the fish being caught in his trap and being cooked in his kettle. There too he could talk with his friends while seeing the sports and watching the feasting.

When he had made everything exactly as he wanted it, the buds on the fir trees were just bursting. By this sign Coyote knew that the first salmon were on their way up the rivers. So he called aloud for his friends to come and feast. His voice could be heard far and near, as it can to this day. On every hill and in every valley, his friends heard, his voice, “Listen !” they said.. “Coyote is calling us. Let’s go.”

As they called out to him along the way, Coyote recognized the voices of his friends. He knew the roar of Grizzly Bear, the howl of Timber Wolf, the snort of Elk, the hoot of Horned Owl, the cry of Eagle, the chatter of Kingfisher. He was so happy and so excited that he ran round and round, trying to catch his tail. Soon all the animals and birds had gathered beside the river. Great was their amazement when they saw all the wonders that Coyote had built there. For half a moon they camped beside the rapids and the waterfall. They caught salmon in Coyote’s fish-trap, cooked it in his kettle, feasted and danced and enjoyed all their sports. By day and by night, the first burned brightly, while Coyote visited and played and lost his loneliness.

When the time came for the festival to end, all his friends shook Coyote’s hand with grateful hearts. All promised to come again next year when the fir trees were bursting into bud. Everyone went home happy.

All this happened a very long time ago. But still the rapids and the waterfall, the kettle and the stone seat can be seen in the river where Coyote built them for his big party. And every spring you can hear the invitation call of Coyote and the answering calls of his friends.

Okanagan and Shuswap
Shuswap Falls are in the Shuswap River in the southeastern British Columbia.

Coyote [ztsaya' ya] and his wife were dwelling nearby. His wife became ill, and she died. Then Coyote became very, very lonely. He did nothing but weep for his wife.

Then the death spirit [pa yawit] came to him and said. “Coyote, do you pine for your wife?”

“Yes friend I long for her most painfully,” replied Coyote.

“I could take you to the place where your wife has gone, but, I tell you, you must do everything just exactly as I say. Not once are you to disregard my commands and do something else.”

“Yes,” replied Coyote, “yes, friend, and what could I do? I will do everything you say.”

Then the ghost [ts' a' wtsaw] told him, “Yes. Now let us go.”

Coyote added, “Yes, let it be so that we are going.” They went.

Then he said to Coyote again, “You must do whatever I say. Do not disobey.”

“Yes, yes, friend I have been pining so deeply, and why should I not heed you? Coyote could not see the spirit clearly. He appeared to be only a shadow. They started and went along over a plain.

“Oh, there are many horses hereabouts; it looks like a roundup, exclaimed the ghost.

“Yes,” replied Coyote, though he really saw none. “Yes, there are many horses. They arrived now near the place of the dead.

The ghost knew that Coyote could see nothing, but he said, “Oh look, such quantities of serviceberries! Let us pick some to eat. Now when you see me reach up, you too will reach up. When I bend the limb down, you too will pull your hands down.”

“Yes,” Coyote said to him, “so be it; I will do that.” The ghost reached up and bent the branch down, and Coyote did the same. Although he could see no berries, he imitated the host in putting his hand to and from his mouth in the manner of eating. Thus they picked and ate berries. Coyote watched him carefully and imitated every action. When the ghost would put his hand into his mouth. Coyote did the same.

“Such good serviceberries these are,” commented the ghost.

“Yes, friend, it is good that we have found them,” agreed Coyote.

“Now let us go.” And they went on. “We are about to arrive,” the ghost told him. There is a long, a very, very long lodge. Your wife is there somewhere. Just wait and let me ask someone.” In a little while the ghost returned and said to Coyote, “Yes, they have told me where your wife is. We are coming to a door through which we will enter. You will do in very way exactly what you see me do. I will take hold of the door flap, raise it up, and, bending low, will enter. Then you too will take hold of the door flap and do the same.” They proceeded in this manner to enter the lodge. It happened that Coyote’s wife was sitting near the entrance.

The ghost said to Coyote, “Sit here beside your wife.” They both sat. The ghost added, Your wife is now going to prepare food for us.” Coyote could see nothing, except that he was sitting on an open prairie where nothing was in sight. Yet, he could feel the presence of the shadow. “Now she has prepared our food. Let us eat.” The ghost reached down and then brought his hand to his mouth. Coyote could see nothing but the prairie dust. They ate. Coyote imitated all the movements of his companion. When they had finished and the woman had apparently put the food away, the ghost said to Coyote, “You stay here. I must go around to see some people ” He went out, but he returned soon. “Here we have conditions different from those you have in the land of the living. When it gets dark here, it has dawned in your land; and when it dawns for us, it is growing dark for you.”

Now it began to grow dark, and Coyote seemed to hear people whispering, talking in faint tones, all around him. Then darkness set in. Oh, Coyote saw many fires in a long-house. He saw that he was in a very, very large lodge, and there were many fires burning. He saw the various people. They seemed to have shadow-like forms, but he was able to recognize different persons. He saw his wife sitting by his side. He was overjoyed, and he joyfully greeted all his old friends who had died long ago. How happy he was. He would march down the aisles between the fires, going here and there, and talk with the people. He did this throughout the night. Now he could see the doorway through which he and his friend had entered. At last it began to dawn, and his friend came to him and said, “Coyote, our night is falling, and in a little while you will not see us. But you must stay right here. Do not go anywhere at all. Stay right here and then in the evening, you will see all these people again.”

“Yes, friend. Where could I possibly go? I will spend the day here.” The dawn came, and Coyote found himself alone, sitting in the middle of a prairie. He spent the day there, first dying from the heat, parching from the heat, thirsting from the heat. Coyote stayed there several days. He would suffer through the day, but always at night he would make merry in the great lodge. One day his ghost friend came to him and said, “Tomorrow you will go home. You will take your wife with you.”

“Yes, friend, but I like it here so much. I am having a good time, and I should like to remain here.”

“Yes,” the ghost replied, “nevertheless, you will go tomorrow, and you must guard against your inclination to do foolish things [ha' ynaim waku'']. Do not yield to any queer notions. I will advise you now what you are to do. There are five mountains. You will travel for five days. Your wife will be with you, but you must never, never touch her. Do not let any strange impulses possess you. You may talk to her but never touch her. Only after you have crossed and descended from the fifth mountain, you may do whatever you like.”

“Yes, friend,” replied Coyote. When dawn came again Coyote and his wife started. At first it seemed to him as if he were going alone; yet, he was dimly aware of his wife’s presence as she walked along behind. They crossed one mountain, and, now, Coyote could feel more definitely the presence of his wife. She seemed like a shadow. They went on and crossed the second mountain. They camped at night at the foot of each mountain. They had a little conical lodge which they would set up each time. Coyote’s wife would sit on one side of the fire and he on the other. Her form appeared clearer and clearer.

The death spirit who had sent them now began to count the days and to figure the distance Coyote and his wife had covered. “I hope that he will do everything right and take his wife through to the world beyond,” he kept saying to himself.

Coyote and his wife were spending their last night, their fourth night camping. On the morrow she would again assume fully the character of a living person. They were camping for the last time, and Coyote could see her very clearly, as if she were a real person who sat opposite him. He could see her face and body very clearly, but he only looked and dared not touch her. But suddenly a joyous impulse seized him; the joy of having his wife again overwhelmed him. He jumped to his feet and rushed over to embrace her.

His wife cried out, “Stop! Stop, Coyote! Do not touch me. Stop!” Her warning had no effect. Coyote rushed over to his wife, and just as he touched her body, she vanished. She disappeared, returned to the shadow land.

When the death spirit learned of Coyote’s folly, he became deeply angry. “You inveterate doer of this kind of thing! I told you not to do anything foolish. You, Coyote, were about to establish the practice of returning from death. Only a short time from now the human race is coming, but you have spoiled everything and established for them death as is.”

Here Coyote wept and wept. He decided, “Tomorrow I shall return to see them again.” He started back the following morning. As he went along, he began to recognize the places where his spirit friend and he had passed and now he began to do the same things they had done on their way to the shadow land. “Oh, look at the horses; it looks like roundup.” He went on until he came to the place where the ghost had found the serviceberries. “Oh, such choice serviceberries! Let us pick and eat some.” He went through the motions of picking and eating berries. He went on and finally came to the place where the long lodge had stood. He said to himself, “Now, when I take hold of the door flap and raise it up, you must do the same.” Coyote remembered all the little things his friend had done. He saw the spot where he had sat before. He went there, sat down, and said, “Now, your wife has brought us food. Let us eat.” He went through the motions of eating again. Darkness fell, and now Coyote listened for the voices. He looked all around; he looked here and there, but nothing appeared. Coyote sat there in the middle of the prairie. He sat there all night, but the lodge didn’t appear again nor the ghost ever return to him.

Taken from Tales of the Nez Perce by Donald M. Hines, Ye Galleon Press; Fairfield, Washington, 1999 [gathered from other source books dated between 1912 and 1949]

One day back in the Beforetime, Bear and Eagle came home from their fishing with bad news.

“The salmon are gone from the river!” roared Bear.

“We did not see a one,” shrieked Eagle in anger.

It was terrible news. Of all the fishes in the river or sea, the salmon was the tastiest. In two days the animal people were to have a feast-and what was a feast without salmon?

“How can there be no salmon?” cried Crane.

“Someone has stolen them all,” Eagle said sadly.

Gloom settled down on the village like a great, gray cloud. The sun still shone, the grass was still green, and the hunters came home with good meat, but the animal people sighed as they ate, and thought of the feast to come.

No salmon!

Coyote sighed loudest of all, for he loved salmon more than anything in the world. But Coyote was as clever as he was greedy, and so he began to think.

“Who could steal so many fish?” thought he.

“Not Pelican. Where would he hide them? Not Sea Lion. Not even he could eat so many.”

Coyote frowned and paced up and down. “It cannot be Fox,’ said he to himself. Fox’s den was near a pond, but his pond could not hold even thirty salmon. Thirty thousand had vanished. Or more. Then, too, the animals7 path to the north passed along Fox’s pond’s rim. If there were salmon in it, someone would have seen.

But there were other ponds. One lay below the waterfall near the house of the Ixkareya.

And the two Ixkareya were she-witches.

Coyote grinned, and thought some more, then trotted off to find an alder tree.

From the trunk of the alder tree Coyote pulled two large pieces of bark. Now, alder bark on the inside is very red, and so when Coyote had cut them into the shapes of fish, they looked a little like salmon. Seen from afar, they looked very much like salmon. Coyote smeared them with deer marrow, wrapped them in leaves, put them in his quiver, and set out for the witches’ house.

Now, the witches were young and good looking, but did not have many visitors. So when, as they sat by their cookfire roasting acorns, they saw Coyote coming up the trail, they were pleased.

“He is very handsome,’ said the elder.

“Such a bright, shiny coat and bushy tail,’ whispered the younger.

“A fine evening, Ixkareya,” called Coyote as he drew near.

“A fine evening,” said the witches, nodding.

And so they talked together of the weather, then gossiped about the animal people of the foothills and the plain. As they talked. Coyote took a sideways look at the pond at the foot of the waterfall. There was no sign of salmon.

“Have some of our acorns, Ki-yoo,” offered the elder witch as Coyote seemed about to go.

The younger held out the basket.

Coyote took a pawful and thanked them politely. “They will go well with my supper of fish,’ said he. He pulled one elder-bark salmon a little way out of his quiver so that they might see, and then pushed it back out of sight.

The two witches looked at each other as Coyote turned to go.

“Where did he get salmon?” hissed one.

“No one has salmon,’ muttered the other. “We should know.”

They watched Coyote go, gathering wood on his way. He did not go far. On a flat place a little uphill from the house by the waterfall, he built a fire.

When it had burned down to a bed of bright coals, he speared his bark fish on a willow stick.

The two witches watched and whispered and frowned at each other as Coyote pretended to roast the fish over the fire. The deer marrow melted and spit as it spattered in the fire. The witches ate acorns as they watched, and wondered whether Coyote would offer them a share of the salmon.

He did not. And their mouths began to water.

“Since he has salmon, let us fetch some of our own,” they said at last. And taking woven mats to hold over their heads, they stepped through the waterfall and vanished.

In a flash Coyote sprang up and dashed to the waterfall’s side. He poked his head in through the water just far enough to see what lay beyond.

Beyond the curtain of water lay a great cave, and the great cave was filled with a pond greater than that which lay out under the sky. Behind the dam that made the great pond, the water flashed with thousands of salmon. There were so many salmon that the witches, standing at the pond’s rim, “had” only to dip in their hands to pull out a fat fish.

“Tso!” crowed Coyote to himself. And he hurried back to his campfire.

At nightfall Coyote made a great show of yawning. He smoothed a place on the ground near his fire and made a bed of pine needles. Then he lay down and pretended to sleep. It was not easy, for he could smell the real salmon roasting.

At last, when the witches had eaten, one yawned and said, “I am sleepy, too.”

“We must be careful,” warned the other. “We must keep watch until the stranger has fallen to the bottom of sleep.”

Coyote breathed deeply and sleepily, and all the while he listened. And all the while he listened, the witches argued whether he was truly asleep. So Coyote began to snore.

“Hai! I told you he was asleep,” said the one, and together they went into their house.

When the moon went down behind the hill, Coyote slipped down across the trail and under the waterfall. There he set to work. He pried out rocks and pawed at the earth until he had made a great hole at the end of the dam. The water ran out in a rush, and with it the fish. Salmon swam past Coyote’s legs and leaped over his back in their eagerness to be gone.

Inside the house of the Ixkareya, one murmured in her sleep, “Do you hear the waterfall laughing?”

But the laughter was Coyote’s.

And ours. For if Coyote had not freed the salmon, there would be none in the Klamath River or the sea today.

Back in the Beforetime: Tales of the California Indians [the Klamath River region in the north to the inland desert mountains and the southern coastlands] Retold by Jane Louise Curry, 1987

He was going (along) a road again. He came to a big Rock that was lying there. Someone spoke thus to him: “That is a Rock that moves about.” he said to him.

“So? Where is there a Rock that moves about!” (Coyote) said to him.

“Do not defecate on that Rock.” he said to (Coyote).

Then he spoke thus: “So? Where is there a Rock that moves!” he said (and) defecated on the Rock.

Then he went over yonder. The Rock rolled out after him. He ran from it. It rolled along right at his heels. He ran with all his strength. In spite of that, the Rock rolled along right at his heels.

Then Coyote spoke thus: “Did you ever see me when I was running at my very best speed?” he said to the Rock.

Then he ran with his very best speed. In spite of that, the Rock rolled along right at his heels.

Then (Coyote) ran from him into a hole. The Rock rolled to cover (the entrance to) the hole. The Rock spoke thus to him: “This, lick it off for me quickly!” he said to him

Then Coyote licked it all off for him. And the Rock rolled back to where it had been before.

Chiricahua and Mescalero Apache Texts,1938, Harry Hoijer, principal author. Ethnological Notes by Morris Opler.
Told by Sam Kenoi

One spring day Coyote and Fox were out for a walk, and when they came to a big smooth rock, Coyote threw his blanket over it and they sat down to rest. After a while the Sun became very hot, and Coyote decided he no longer needed the blanket. “Here, brother,” he said to the rock, “I give you my blanket because you are poor and have let me rest on you. Always keep it.”

Then Coyote and Fox went on their way. They had not gone far when a heavy cloud covered the sky. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled and rain began to fall. The only shelter they could find was in a coulee, and Coyote said to Fox, “Run back to that rock, and ask him to lend us the blanket I gave him. We can cover ourselves with it and keep dry.”

So Fox ran back to the rock, and said, “Coyote wants his blanket.”

“No,” replied the rock. “He gave it to me as a present. I shall keep it. Tell him he cannot have it.”

Fox returned to Coyote and told him what the rock had said. “Well,” said Coyote, “that certainly is an ungrateful rock. I only wanted the use of the blanket for a little while until the rain stops.” He grew very angry and went back to the rock and snatched the blanket off. “I need this to keep me dry,” he said. “You don’t need a blanket. You have been out in the rain and snow all your life, and it won’t hurt you to live so always.”

Coyote and Fox kept dry under the blanket until the rain stopped and the sun came out again. Then they left the coulee and resumed their walk toward the river. After a while they heard a loud noise behind them coming from the other side of the hill. “Fox, little brother,” said Coyote, “go back and see what is making that noise.”

Fox went to the top of the hill, and then came hurrying back as fast as he could. “Run! run!” he shouted, “that big rock is coming.” Coyote looked back and saw the rock roll over the top of the hill and start rushing down upon them. Fox jumped into a badger hole, but the rock mashed the tip of his tail, and that is why Fox’s tail is white to this day.

Meanwhile Coyote had raced down the hill and jumped into the river. He swam across to the other side where he was sure that he was safe because he knew that rocks sink in water. But when the rock splashed into the river it began swimming, and Coyote fled toward the nearest woods. As soon as he was deep in the timber, he lay down to rest, but he had scarcely stretched himself out when he heard trees crashing. Knowing that the rock was still pursuing him, Coyote jumped up and ran out on the open prairie.

Some bears were crossing there, and Coyote called upon them for help. “We’ll save you,” the bears shouted, but the rock came rolling upon them and crushed the bears. About this time Coyote saw several bull buffalo. “Oh, my brothers,” he called to them, “help me, help me. Stop that rock.” The buffalo put their heads down and rushed upon the rock, but it broke their skulls and kept rolling. Then a nest of rattlesnakes came to help Coyote by forming themselves into a lariat, but when they tried to catch the rock, the rattlesnakes at the noose end were all cut to pieces.

Coyote kept running along a pathway, but the rock was now very close to him, so close that it began to knock against his heels. Just as he was about to give up, he saw two witches standing on opposite sides of the path. They had stone hatchets in their hands. “We’ll save you,” they called out. He ran between them, with the rock following close behind. Coyote heard the witches strike the rock with their hatchets, and when he turned to look he saw it lying on the ground all shattered into tiny pieces.

Then Coyote noticed that the path had led him into a large camp. When he sat down to catch his breath, he overheard one of the witches say to the other: “He looks nice and fat. We’ll have something good for dinner now. Let’s eat him right away.”

Coyote Pretended he had heard nothing, but he watched the witches through one of his half-closed eyes until they went into their lodge and began rattling their cooking utensils. Then he jumped up and emptied all their water pails.

As soon as they came outside again, he said, “I am very thirsty. I wish you would give me a good drink of water.”

“There is plenty of water here,” one of the witches replied. “You may have a drink from one of these pails.” But when she looked in the pails she found that every one was empty.

“That creek down there has water in it,” Coyote said. “I’ll go and get some water for you.”

He took the pails and started off, but as soon as he was out of sight he ran away as fast as his legs could carry him. Afterwards he heard that when the old witches discovered that he had tricked them, they began blaming each other for letting him escape. They quarreled and quarreled, and fought and fought, Until finally they killed each other.