Coyote was traveling up the river. He heard some one calling to him from far off. A woman’s voice said to him, “Come here and finish killing him for me!” He looked, and saw a girl standing at the top of a cliff. She had bow and arrows, but could not use them; and she was trying to kill Mountain-Sheep. So Coyote went up to help her. Besides the bow and arrows, she had a forked stick. She asked Coyote to look over the cliff and see how best they could get at Mountain-Sheep; and while he was doing this, she caught his neck with the forked stick and pushed him over the cliff. Then she went down where he had landed; and when she saw that her victim was only Coyote, she threw the body into the river.

Coyote floated down the river a bend and a half, and stranded. Magpie came flying up the river; and when he saw Coyote, he thought to himself, “I wonder if there is matter in his eyes!” When Magpie began pecking at the eyes of Coyote, however, the latter came to, and said to Magpie, “Why are you flying around here? I myself have just been to battle, capturing women.” Magpie replied, “You were in no battle; you were pushed over the cliff and killed by Mountain-Sheep Girl.” Then Magpie told Coyote what to do to play even.

So Coyote traveled upstream a second time, and again he heard her call. He went up to her; and when she asked him to do the same thing, he replied, “Now, let me take the stick, and then you show me just where I have to stand in order to see Mountain-Sheep plainly.” When she went to show him, Coyote caught her with the forked stick, pushed her over the cliff, and killed her.

Then Coyote resumed his journey up river; and by and by he heard another woman, who called to him to come and lie with her. He arrived where the woman was. Then he embraced her and began to copulate. His penis was cut off, and he died. When the woman saw that it was only Coyote she had killed, she threw the body into the water, and it drifted down the river.

Again Magpie saw the body, and came to feed on the matter in the eyes. Coyote came to, and said, “Why did you wake me up? I have been to war, capturing women.” Then Magpie answered, “No, you were over there with Mussel-Shell Woman (sewisyeye), who cut off your penis and killed you.” So again Magpie told him what to do to kill her in turn. He went up the river, and at the same place the woman called to him again; but now Coyote had a bone which he used instead of his penis. So he killed her, and said, “You will be only a mussel-shell, and Indians will eat you, but you will not be able to hurt any one.”

Nez Perce Tales, By Herbert J. Spinden, 1907

Out walking, Old Man Coyote spied a group of good-looking girls picking wild strawberries. “Ah, these pretty young things!” he said. Quickly he buried himself in the earth among some strawberry bushes and let only the tip of his manhood protrude.

Soon the girls came to those bushes. “There’s a big berry here,” said one girl, “different from the others.” She tried to pluck it, but it wouldn’t come loose. “This berry has deep roots,” she said.

All the other girls came and tried to pick the strawberry. Some pulled at it, some nibbled at it. “Oh, my,” said one, “this berry weeps.” “No,” said another girl, “it has milk in it.” A third said: “Since we can’t pick it, let’s look for a sharp piece of flint and cut it off.”

The girls searched and found a flint, but when they came back to the berry patch, the strange strawberry had disappeared. “It must have been some trick by that nasty Old Man Coyote,” the girls said to each other. One said: “Yes, I’m sure it was Coyote. We’ll have to get even.”

One day the girls went to a place along the trail where Old Man Coyote always went hunting. They took their dresses off and smeared themselves with blood from some meat they had been given to cook. Looking as if they had been raped and slain by enemies, they lay there face down, naked, and bloody.

Pretty soon Old Man Coyote came along. When he saw the girls with blood all over them, he was scared. “Oh my, oh my! He said. “What enemy has done this? What shall I do? Maybe the enemy is still around and will come and kill me. Oh my! I must find out how long these girls have been dead. If their corpses are old, then surely the enemy is far away.”

He bent down and started feeling and smelling the girls’ bodies. Whenever he came near one of the girls’ backsides, she farted right into Old Man Coyote’s face. He said: “Oh my, I think I am safe. These girls must have been dead a long time, they smell bad!”

Then all the girls jumped up laughing, shouting: “Old Man, this time the joke was on you.”

Crow Based on two stories told in 1899 and 1903.

In the grassy ground under the oak trees at the edge of the plain were many holes. There squirrels lived, and there were many of them. Badger’s house was not far away. Early every morning he took up a heavy stick and went there, and lay down upon the ground, each day in a new spot.

When the smallest squirrels came out of their holes Badger did not move. Not a twitch. So the little squirrels grew brave and drew close.

“He sleeps,’ whispered one.

“He is dead,’ said another.

They came closer.

“Asleep!”

“Dead!”

The little squirrels tiptoed closer still. They peered at Badger’s paws. They pulled at his eyelids to peek into his eyes. They sniffed at his nose and squeaked to see his sharp teeth. They admired the streak of white on his head and nose.

“Nice,” said some.

“Pretty,’ said others. And together they turned him over to admire his fur coat. They pinched and patted and climbed on his back, but Badger never moved.

“Dead,’ said the little squirrels, and went off to look for acorns.

Soon the half-grown squirrels came out of their holes and discovered Badger. And the same thing happened. They too looked and sniffed and pinched and went away. Last of all came the biggest squirrels. They too began to poke and prod, and debated how Badger had died. But no sooner had a number of good, fat squirrels gathered around, than Badger leaped up and killed them all with his club.

Every morning he picked another spot and did the same.

One morning Coyote passed by on his way to go fishing, and saw Badger lying like dead.

“No arrow,” thought Coyote. “He has not been shot. What can be wrong?”

He hid in the shadows to watch, and soon a big squirrel stuck his head out of his hole. He was followed by others.

Coyote forgot about Badger. He thought of roast squirrel and wished he had his bow and arrows. There was nothing he liked better, he decided, than squirrel! Then suddenly, as quick as Coyote could blink, Badger bounced up and hit out with his stick.

One-two-three-four-five!

“Five! How did you do that?” cried Coyote as he trotted up. “Ah-hai! The stick! It is a magic stick.”

“No,” said Badger.

“Then what did you do?”

“Nothing,” said Badger.

Coyote did not believe him. “Come, what did you do?” he asked, and once more Badger said, “Nothing.” Coyote helped to carry the squirrels to Badger’s house and on the way he asked again and again until at last Badger tired of his questions, and told him how to catch squirrels by doing nothing at all.

“Tso, tso!” Coyote laughed, for he loved tricks. “Tomorrow I shall go squirrel hunting.”

That night, he could not sleep. He was so-eager for morning to come that he kept getting up to see whether dawn had come. At the first light he took up a stout stick and set out to look for a good squirrel-hunting place. When at the edge of the forest he found one with many holes, he lay down and did not move.

The little squirrels came out first, just as Badger said. They peered into Coyote’s eyes and pulled at his ears, and he thought of roast squirrel. They looked into his nose and played with his paws, and he could almost smell the squirrel soup. But then they rolled him over and climbed on his chest. Their tiny feet danced on his ribs.

And Coyote was ticklish.

He held his breath, but that was no help.

He tried to think of roast squirrel.

Of squirrel stew.

Of squirrel soup.

But nothing helped. Coyote began to laugh, and the little squirrels jumped up in the air in fright and dashed away.

So Coyote ate acorns for dinner.

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

Long ago, when the world was young, the sky was very dark at night. The Creator Spirit that had made the world had made the sun to ride across the sky by day, but the night sky was empty. The Creator Spirit heard the prayers of the People and the animals who wanted to be able to see at night. He called on Coyote to come to him and serve him.

Coyote came and waited respectfully, looking down as the Creator Spirit gave him a deerskin pouch tied with a piece of sinew. The Creator Spirit told Coyote to walk a certain path and to open the bag when he came to the highest point on the trail. Coyote was not to open the bag any sooner than the highest point The Creator Spirit told Coyote that the trail would be long, and he would go many days and nights without rest. He told Coyote to be strong.

Coyote took the pouch and went on the path he had been given.

Coyote was not highly regarded by the People and other animals, and he was proud to have been chosen to take the pouch to the highest point on the trail. At first he walked proudly, the pouch hanging from his mouth, along the path he had been given. As the day wore into night, and the night became day again, Coyote walked less proudly. He grew tired and hungry, and cared less about the great honor that had been given to him. As another night came and went, the spit from Coyote’s mouth soaked into the dried deer sinew, and it began to soften, and tasted liked meat.

Before he knew what he was doing. Coyote was chewing on the sinew, just as a hunter on a long hunt will chew on dried meat. Soon the sinew was chewed in two, and the pouch fell out of Coyote’s mouth.

Coyote was only half-way up the great mountain when the pouch fell. The pouch hit the ground and came open.

Out of the pouch flew thousands of pieces of shiny mica; they flew like the butterflies up into the sky and settled against the blanket of night to become the stars. Out of the pouch rolled a ball of mica, and it rolled up the trail and into the sky to become the moon.

But Coyote was not at the highest point of the trail when the pouch came open, and the moon did not climb into the sky on its proper path. Instead of riding only across the night sky, the moon sometimes comes up at night, and sometimes comes up by day. And it turns this way and that, like a hunter who is lost, looking for the proper path to follow.

Because he did not live up to the trust the Creator Spirit had placed in him, Coyote hung his head in shame. Then he looked up to the moon and sang sadly his apology to the moon for his lack of courage.

To this day, Coyote is He-who-hangs-his-head, and he only lifts his head when he sees the moon. He lifts his head and sings his sad song of apology to the moon for not carrying the pouch to the highest point of the trail.

A story of the People of the Eight Northern Pueblos along the Rio Grande in New Mexico
[Told by a curio shop owner in alburquerque, New Mexico, in the summer of 1967.]

Here is another version of the Cochiti “Contest for wives.”

Coyote got up early one morning feeling unusually full of pep. He trotted along the ridge of a wash just as the sun was beginning to appear on the distant horizon. as ran, he spotted a small, lumbering figure moving slowly below him. He loped down to see who it was and recognized Badger. “Greetings, brother!” he called. Quietly Badger wished him a good morning.

Coyote had already hatched a plot to get the best of Badger, so as the two paused to visit, Coyote said: “Brother, it’s such a fine day that we shouldn’t waste it just wandering around. Why don’t we have a contest and a wager? Let’s each spend the day hunting rabbits, and at sunset we’ll return to this spot with our catch. Whoever kills the most rabbits gets to spend the night with the other’s wife. What do you say, brother Badger?”

At first Badger did not think this was such a good idea, but fearing that Coyote would call him a coward, he accepted. As the two set out in opposite directions, Coyote felt there was no way he could lose. While he ran, he imagined how it would be to spend the night with Badger Woman. After a while he spotted a jackrabbit nibbling grass in a shady spot, and he took off after it, yelling “Yip! Yip! Yip!”

Now, this jackrabbit had also just emerged from his hole, and he too was full of pep on this morning. He led Coyote a merry day-long chase up and down washes, over hills, and through forests. Coyote was serenely confident, thinking, “This jackrabbit should be all I need to beat old Badger, so slow, so cumbersome, so near-sighted. I doubt whether he’d catch anything if he had a whole year.” In this fashion the day slowly waned.

Just before sunset Coyote finally wore the jackrabbit down and caught it. He hurried back to the rendezvous with Badger feeling quite sure of himself.

Meanwhile, Badger had hatched a plan of his own. Soon after their parting, he hurried to a system of rabbit holes that he knew were nearby, and at the first one he begin to dig with his powerful claws and muscles.

In short order he caught several half-asleep rabbits. By the time he made his way through the entire tunnel system, he had twelve of them. These he laid out in a row above the tunnels as fast as he caught them, so while Coyote was just getting into his jackrabbit chase, Badger already had twelve rabbits.

Badger leisurely took several trip to carry his catch to the rendezvous, and then he searched until he found a spot of shade to wait for Coyote. He was surprised when Coyote appeared, worn out and dripping with perspiration, carrying one jackrabbit. When Coyote spotted Badger’s catch, he realized that his trick had backfired. That night Coyote had to remain outside his own den while Badger made endless love to his wife. Throughout the night these love-making sessions were marked with howls of pain from Coyote Woman. Coyote didn’t sleep at all that night, and the next morning his wife, very sore from the exertions of the evening, said: “Old man! You think you’re so smart! You lose contests and I have to pay for your stupidity!”

Translated from the Tewa by Alfonso Ortiz.