THE COYOTE AND THE CROWS

Once upon a time, many Káh-ahn lived at the edge of the woods. Just a little way out into the plain stood a very large tree, with a patch of sand beneath it. One day, a Coyote was passing by and heard the Crows singing and dancing under the tree. Curious, he came closer to watch.

The Crows were dancing in a circle, and each one had a large bag on its back.

“Crow-friends, what are you doing?” asked the Coyote, much interested.

“Oh, we are dancing with our mothers,” replied the Crows.

“How lovely! Will you let me dance too?” asked the Coyote of the too-whit-lah-wid-deh Crow, the captain of the dance.

“Yes,” said the Crow. “Go home, put your mother in a bag, and come join us.”

The Coyote ran home, where his old mother sat in the corner by the fireplace. Foolishly, he picked up a stick, struck her on the head, placed her in a bag, and hurried back to the dance.

The Crows danced merrily, singing:

“Ai nana, que-ée-rah, que-ée-rah”
(“Alas, Mama! You are shaking, you are shaking!”)

The Coyote joined them, carrying the bag on his back, and sang along:

“Ai nana, que-ée-rah, que-ée-rah.”

At last, the Crows burst into laughter and asked, “What do you have in your bag?”

“My mother, just as you told me,” replied the Coyote, showing them.

Then the Crows opened their own bags, which contained nothing but sand, and flew up into the tree, laughing at him.

The Coyote realized he had been tricked. He began walking home, crying: “Ai nana!” When he got home, he tried to set his mother upright in the chimney corner, still crying: “Ai nana, why won’t you sit up like before?” But she could not—she was dead.

Realizing this, the Coyote vowed to hunt the Crows and eat them for the rest of his life. From that day on, he has been chasing them, and they have been enemies ever since.

As Desiderio finishes the tale, the old men wrap their blankets around their shoulders.

“No more stories tonight?” I ask.

“In-dáh (no),” says Lorenso. “Now it is time for bed. Tóo-kwai (come),” he calls to the boys. “Good night, friends. Another time, perhaps.”

And so we file out through the low doorway into the starry night.