Two antelope were gambling with a white tailed deer and a frog. The antelope and deer ran a race in the woods. White tail deer jumped over the tree and beat, for antelope had to run where there are no trees. He won from antelope the dew claws and the fat on the hips.

Then the antelope suggested that they run a race with frog out on the plains. Many frogs put themselves in a line, reaching from the starting place to the goal. When they started to run each frog jumped this way just as one shakes a string. The antelope was beaten because he thought frog could not possibly win. That was the way it was done.

Footnotes:

The story is told of Coyote and Turtles among other tribes. Dorsey, (d), p. 105; (e), p, 143.

Jicarilla Apache Texts, by Pliny Earle Goddard; New York: Anthropological Papers of the American Museum of Natural History, Vol. VIII; (1911) and is now in the public domain.

As soon as his life was restored, Fox went to the Buffalo head, and cut off the long pendent hair, i-yûn-e-pi-ta-ga, beneath its under jaw. Fox took this to a prairie-dog village near at hand, and told the inhabitants that it was the hair of a man, one of that race dreaded by the prairie-dogs because of its attacks upon them, which he had killed. He easily persuaded the prairie-dogs to celebrate his victory with feasting and dancing. With a stone concealed in his hand, he killed all the prairie-dogs as they circled around in the dance. Fox then placed them in a pit, and built a huge fire over them, leaving them to roast while he slept. Nîn-ko-jîn, the Wildcat, came along, and stole all the roasted prairie-dogs while Fox slept, save one at the end of the pit, leaving the tails, which were pulled off. Fox awoke after some time, and flew into a great rage when he found only the tails left; the solitary dog was thrown over his shoulder in his fit of passion. The gnawings of hunger soon induced him to search for the dog he had thrown away. In the stream close by he thought he saw the roasted body; taking off his clothes, he swam for it, but could not grasp it. Again and again he tried, and finally dove for it until he bumped his nose on the stony bottom. Tired out with his efforts, he laid down upon the bank to rest, and, as he glanced upward, saw the body of the prairie-dog lying among the branches which projected over the water. Fox recovered the coveted morsel, ate it, and set off on the trail of the Wildcat. He found Wildcat asleep under a tree, around which he set a fire. With a few quick strokes he shortened the head, body, and tail of Wildcat, and then pulled out the large intestine and roasted it. Fox then awakened Wildcat, and invited him to eat his (Wildcat’s) flesh, but to be careful to save a small piece, and put it back in its place, for he would need it. Fox then left him.

Wildcat followed Fox, intent upon revenge. He found Fox asleep, but instead of shortening that animal’s members he lengthened them; the ears were only straightened, but the head, body, and tail were elongated as we see them at the present day. The intestine scene was repeated with the Fox as victim.

Frank Russell,. Myths of the Jicarilla Apache

Fox one day met a Rabbit who was sewing a sack. “What do you intend to do with that sack?” asked he.

“I am making this coat to protect myself from being killed by the hard hail which we are going to have today,” replied Rabbit.

“My friend, you know how to make them; give me this coat and make another for yourself.”

Rabbit agreed to this, and Fox put on the sack over his head. Rabbit then hung him on a limb and pelted him with stones, while Fox, thinking it was hail striking him, endured the punishment as long as he could, but finally fell nearly dead from the tree, and looked out, to see no signs of hail, but discovered the Rabbit running away. Fox wished to avenge himself by killing Rabbit, and set off in pursuit of him.

When overtaken Rabbit was chewing soft gum with which to make spectacles. Fox’s curiosity was stronger than his passion for revenge. “What are you making those for?” said he.

“It is going to be very hot, and I am making them to protect my eyes,” answered Rabbit.

” Let me have this pair; you know how to make them and can make yourself another pair.”

“Very well,” said Rabbit, and he put the eye- shields on Fox, who could then see nothing, as the gum was soft and filled his eyes.

Rabbit set fire to the brush all around Fox, who was badly singed in running through it. The gum melted in the fire, and yet remains as the dark rings around his eyes.

Fox again started on the trail of Rabbit, with the determination of eating him as soon as he saw him. He found Rabbit sitting beside the opening of a beehive.

“I am going to eat you,” said Fox ; “you have tried to kill me.”

“You must not kill me,” replied Rabbit. “I am teaching these children,” and he closed the opening of the hive, so that Fox could not see what was inside.

Fox desired very much to see what was In the hive making such a noise.

“If you wish to see, stay here and teach them while I rest. When it is dinner time, strike them with a club,” said Rabbit, who then ran away.

Fox patiently awaited the dinner hour, and then struck the hive with such force that he broke into it. The bees poured out and stung him until he rolled in agony. “When I see you again, I will kill you before you can say a word!” declared he, as he started after Rabbit again.

Fox tracked the Rabbit to a small hole in the fence around a field of watermelons belonging to a Mexican. The Rabbit had entered to steal, and was angered at sight of the gum figure of a man which the owner of the field had placed beside the path.

“What do you desire from me?” he cried, as he struck at the figure with his forefoot, which stuck fast in the soft gum. He struck at the gum with every foot, and even his head was soon stuck in the gum. Thus Fox found him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “They put me in here because I would not eat chicken for them,” said Rabbit.

“I will take your place,” said Fox ; “I know how to eat chicken.”

The Mexican found him in the morning and skinned him, and then let him go, — still on the trail of the Rabbit who had so frequently outwitted him.

Frank Russell, Myths of the Jicarilla Apaches, 1898

As Fox was going along he met a Porcupine, Tson, which he overheard saying, “I shall search for pêc’-ti, a stone knife, with which to cut up this meat.”

“What are you saying?” asked Fox, springing out of the bushes.

” I said that I must hunt for pêc’-ti for arrowheads,” replied Porcupine.

“That is not what you said.” “It was,” insisted Porcupine.

” Where is that meat?” asked Fox, and then Porcupine admitted that he had killed a Buffalo.

Porcupine had commanded a Buffalo to carry him across a river. “Don’t shake your head with me, or I shall fall,” said he, as he sat between the animal’s horns. The Buffalo told him that, if he was afraid there, he had better crawl into his anus. In that safe retreat Porcupine was carried across the river. He repaid the service by gnawing the vitals of the Buffalo until it fell dead near where the Fox had come upon him. Fox was not disposed to allow Porcupine to retain possession of the Buffalo.

” Come,” said he, ” whoever can jump over the Buffalo can have it. You try first.” Porcupine jumped, but only landed on the top of the carcass, over which Fox, of course, leaped with ease. “Now the Buffalo is mine. You can sit over there and see me cut it up.” After cutting up the meat, Fox hastened away to summon all the foxes to a feast.

Porcupine carried the meat piece by piece into a treetop, so that the foxes, when they came dancing in joyful anticipation, found nothing. From a safe position in the tree Porcupine told the foxes that he would throw them down some meat if they would lie down, close their eyes, and cover themselves with their blankets.

They were hungry, so they obeyed the instructions of the Porcupine, who, as soon as their eyes were closed, killed them by throwing down the sharpened ribs of the Buffalo. One little fox at the end of the line had a ragged old blanket, through which he peeped in time to see and to dodge the rib hurled at him.

This fox survived the massacre, and begged Porcupine to give him some meat. The Porcupine gave him some small pieces at first, and then invited him to come up and eat his fill. The Fox accepted, and, when he could eat no more, asked where he could go to relieve himself. The Porcupine directed him to the end of a branch, whence he easily shook the Fox, which fell to the ground and was killed, but sprang up alive again at the moment when the first tuft of hair was blown from the putrefying carcass by the wind.

Frank Russell, Myths of the Jicarilla Apaches, 1898

Fox could find nothing to eat for a long time, so that he grew weak and thin. While on a journey in search of food he met the Mountain Lion, who, taking pity upon his unhappy condition, said, “I will hunt for you, and you shall grow fat again.” The Fox agreed to this, and they went on together to a much-frequented spring. Mountain Lion told Fox to keep watch while he slept; if a cloud of dust was to be seen arising from the approach of animals Fox was to waken him. Fox presently beheld the dust caused by the approach of a drove of horses.

Fox wakened Mountain Lion, who said, “just observe how I catch horses.” As one of the animals went down to the spring to drink, he sprang upon it, and fastened his fangs in its throat, clawing its legs and shoulders until it fell dying at the water’s edge. Mountain Lion brought the horse up to the rock, and laid it before the Fox. “Stay here, eat, drink, and grow fat,” said he.

Fox thought he had learned how to kill horses, so when the Coyote came along he volunteered to secure one for him. Fox jumped upon the neck of the horse, as Mountain Lion had done, but became entangled in its mane and was killed.

Frank Russell, Myths of the Jicarilla Apaches, 1898