Read American Indian Trickster Tales (Myths and Legends) for Free Online

hands, even for just the tiniest part of a moment, Coyote turned his dice up so that they showed the carved sides. He turned Thunder’s dice up so that they showed the blank sides. He distracted Thunder and made him blink. Then, quick as a flash, he took a counting stick away from Thunder’s pile and added it to his own. In the end, Thunder was completely confused. Coyote had all the counting sticks, Thunder had none. “Uncle, I won,” said Coyote. “Hand over the fire.” Thunder knew that Coyote had cheated but could not prove it.
    Coyote called upon all the animals to come up to the mountaintop to help him carry the big rock that contained the fire. That rock was huge and looked solid, but it was very fragile, as fragile as a seashell. So all the animals prepared to carry the rock away. “Not so fast,” growled Thunder. “Coyote won the game and so I give him the fire. But he cheated, and for that I shall take his life. Where is he so that I can kill him?”
    Now, Coyote had read Thunder’s mind. He had anticipated what Thunder was up to. Coyote could pull the outer part of his body off, as if it were a blanket, so he put his skin, his pelt, his tail, his ears—all of his outside—close by Thunder, and with the inside of his body, his vitals, moved a distance away. Then he changed his voice so that it sounded as if it were coming not from a distance, but like from just a few feet away. “Here I am, Uncle,” he cried. “Kill me if you can.” Thunder picked up the huge rock containing fire and hurled it at what he thought was Coyote. But he hit only the skin and fur. The rock splintered into numberless pieces. Every animal took a little piece of the fire and put it under its armpit or under its wing, and they hurried all over the world, bringing fire to every tribe on earth. Coyote calmly put on his outer skin and fur again. “Good-bye, Uncle,” he said to Thunder. “Don’t gamble. It is not what you do best.” Then he ran off.

COYOTE KILLS TERRIBLE MONSTER
    { Salish }

    Coyote was wandering about, enjoying himself, singing a merry tune. On the branch of a tree sat Tomtit. As Coyote walked beneath it, the little bird chirped: “Grandfather, I am hungry. Do you have something for me to eat?”
    Always, when wandering about, Coyote carried with him a bag of pemmican—dried meat pounded together with kidney fat and berries. A handful of this could keep him going for a whole day. He took the pemmican and broke off a few small pieces, which he fed to the little bird. Tomtit said: “Thank you, grandfather. You have been kind to me. In return I will do something for you. I will give you good advice. Toward the north, where you are going, lives Terrible Monster. He swallows up whoever goes there.”
    “How does Terrible Monster look?” asked Coyote. “How do I recognize him?”
    “Grandfather,” Tomtit answered, “Terrible Monster is so big, eyes cannot encompass him. His body is so large, it stretches from horizon to horizon. You might imagine you are entering a valley and find out that the valley is Terrible Monster’s mouth. He eats up everybody who enters this valley.” “I guess I can distinguish a valley from Terrible Monster’s mouth,” said Coyote.

    “Don’t be so sure,” said the little bird.
    Coyote wandered on. He came to a pine tree. It was the tallest one in the world. Coyote had an idea. He uprooted the tree and laid it across his shoulders. He carried it that way. “Now Terrible Monster cannot swallow me. This tree trunk is too long. It would stick out of Terrible Monster’s mouth on both sides. So he could never gulp me down.”
    Coyote came to a broad, mile-wide canyon. Immensely tall reddish cliffs rose on either side. “This is neither a valley nor a monster’s mouth,” Coyote said to himself. “This is safe to enter.”
    Coyote wandered on. Then he noticed that the canyon floor was entirely covered with dry bones. They made a crackling noise under Coyote’s feet.