Coyote

Only half-awake and thinking it was early morning, Coyote jumped at the sound of Mole´s voice and ran to the lodge of the Spirit Chief. None of the other Chip-chap-tiqulk were there. Coyote laughed. Blinking his sleepy eyes, he walked into the lodge.
»I am going to be Kee-lau-naw,« he announced in a strong voice. »That shall be my name.«
»The name Grizzly Bear was taken at dawn,« the Spirit Chief answered.
»Then I shall be Milka-noups,« said Coyote, and his voice was not so loud.
»Eagle flew away at sunup,« the other replied.
»Well, I shall be called En-tee-tee-ueh,« Coyote said in a voice that was not loud at all.
»The name Salmon also has been taken,« explained the Spirit Chief. »All the names except your own have been taken. No one wished to steal your name.«
Poor Coyote´s knees grew weak. He sank down beside the fire that blazed in the great tepee, and the heart of Hah-ah´Eel-mé-whem was touched.
»Sin-ka-lip´,« said that Person, "you must keep your name. It is a good name for you. You slept long because I wanted you to be the last one here. I have important work for you, much for you to do before the New People come. You are to be chief of all the tribes.
"Many bad creatures inhabit the earth. They bother and kill people, and the tribes cannot increase as I wish. These En-alt-na Skil-ten-People – Devouring Monsters – cannot keep on like that. They must be stopped. It is for you to conquer them. For doing that, for all the good things you do, you will be honored and praised by the people that are here now and that come afterward. But, for the foolish and mean things you do, you will be laughed at and despised. That you cannot help. It is your way.

I do not understand why coyotes have such a bad image. In fact the only well known coyote is While E. Coyote from the Road Runner cartoons. And he seems to be pretty clever.

The most impressing thing about him is that he gets mail order delivered to the desert, without living in a house or street or even village. How could the postman find him? Maybe While gave him his coordinates ...

the sound a coyote makes is not the same as the stereotype yelping howl in cowboy movies. I was camping in California and heard coyotes howling in the moonlight. They sounded like ghosts crying loudly. It was both eerie and beautifully natural.

Sin-ka-lip´ – Coyote – did not like his name; he wanted another. Nobody respected his name, Imitator, but it fitted him. He was called Sin-ka-lip´ because he liked to imitate people. He thought that he could do anything that other persons did, and he pretended to know everything. He would ask a question, and when the answer was given he would say:
»I knew that before. I did not have to be told.«
Such smart talk did not make friends for Coyote. Nor did he make friends by the foolish things he did and the rude tricks he played on people.

Coyote slid along the path, looking for some trouble to get into. Coyote always thought he was clever, smart, and tricky. But, Coyote always gets in trouble with his own trickiness, and he wasn't looking at the path . . . Snap! his foot went into the trap and there he was, trapped again in his own cleverness . . .

street signs

the old wolf
sang her warning
alone

stood guard
still
over the valley home
that the people knew
for centuries
hers and theirs

i heard the soft
padded footsteps
as coyote wandered
down the snow
blanketed street
a patron now
of the strip mall
alleyway
night spots
neighborhoods
and cast offs

he used to be
one of the people
but he assimilated
crossed the lanes
of the big ugly
black topped highway
from the red soil

red soil
muddying his feet
weighing him down
the heaviness
of clinging earth
and heritage
adapt
adapt
padding down the black road

he passed by
with only a glance

i smelled old
like the sound
he heard ringing
high up in the hills
cedar soaked voice
not the heavy oily smell
of french fry grease
and too much liquor

i heard the warning cry
of that one up in the high country
sitting alone

i left that town
city far behind
gone home
to that valley that knows
the people
hers and theirs
mine
and let coyote
prowl those naked black streets


nokwisa©1999