American Indian Trickster Tales (Myths and Legends) (16 page)

BOOK: American Indian Trickster Tales (Myths and Legends)
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“Why, what harm can there be in it? This man is foolish to give such things away for almost nothing.”
“All right,” the chief’s daughter told Coyote, “you may do this once, but be quick about it!”
So Coyote fondled her breast a little and went off. “I think this was a very good bargain,” said the sister-in-law.
“I think so, too,” said the chief’s daughter.
That night there was a lot of noise in Coyote’s tipi again. “Sister-in-law, quick,” said the chief’s daughter in the morning, “bring this man over here with whatever he has made.”
The sister-in-law did this. “Well, what is it this time?” asked the chief’s daughter. “I want it already, though I have not yet seen it.”
Coyote showed it to her. It was a bright red wool blanket with black, white, and blue stripes. The chief’s daughter had never seen anything so beautiful or useful. She felt the blanket and marveled at how warm and soft it was. “Well, all right, fondle my other breast and be quick about it,” she told Coyote.
“No,” he said, “what I want for this blanket is to feel one of your buttocks.”
“Sister-in-law, what do you think?”
“Why, what is the harm in that? He already got a kiss. He already fondled a breast. What does a buttock matter?”
“Well, all right, you can do it. Just once. Do it quickly.” Coyote fondled her buttock quickly, thanked her, and went away.
“It wasn’t too much to ask for this blanket,” said the chief’s daughter.
The following night Coyote made a greater noise than in all the previous nights put together.
“Quick, quick,” the chief’s daughter said in the morning, “get Coyote. I am sure he has made something really wonderful this time.”
Coyote came. “Show it to me at once, whatever you have made this time,” the chief’s daughter said. Coyote showed it to her. It was a
miloglas,
mirror. The chief’s daughter beheld her own face for the first time reflected in a White Man’s
miloglas.
“This is truly wonderful,” she said, turning her head this way and that, admiring herself. “What do you want for this?”
“Oh, not much, really. Just to look between your legs. Only once.”
“Sister-in-law,” whispered the chief’s daughter, “what do you think?”
“Why, what harm can there be in just a look?”
“All right,” said the chief’s daughter, “you may look, once.” The chief’s daughter spread her legs. “There, be quick, just a glance.”
Coyote looked. He shook his head. “Oh, my, oh, my, too bad, too bad!”
“What is too bad?” asked the chief’s daughter.
“Your
winyan-shan
is upside down. It has to be remade. It can’t stay like it is. What a pity!”
Coyote thanked the chief’s daughter and went off someplace.
The chief’s daughter wept. “What is the matter?” the sister-in-law asked.
“This man has said that my winyan-shan is upside down. It has to be redone. Who is there who can do this job?”
“Why, the man who made the bead choker, and the kettle, and the blanket, and the wonderful
miloglas,
of course. Who else?”
“Sister-in-law, you are right. Get Coyote, quickly.”
PART FOUR
THE TROUBLE WITH ROSE HIPS
COYOTE, SKUNK, AND THE BEAVERS
{Wichita
}
Coyote was roaming, searching for what he could get. He surprised Skunk, waddling alongside a stream.
“Little Brother,” said Coyote, “I am truly sorry, because I have to kill you. You seem to be a nice fellow, but I need your meat. I and my family, we have to eat. Don’t take it personally.”
“Whoa, wait a moment,” said Skunk, “don’t kill me. If you abstain from making a meal out of me, I’ll show you how you can get many animals much fatter than myself, which are excellent eating.”
“How will you do that?” asked Coyote.
“I know a place where the beavers are having a medicine dance. Beavers are fat and delicious. I will bring them to you one by one. Then we can knock them on the head and kill them. There will be more than enough for you and me and our families.”
“How will you make them come, one by one?” asked Coyote.
“That’s my business,” answered Skunk.
“Well, all right, you seem like an honest fellow, I’ll take a chance on you.”
Skunk went to the place where the beavers were having a medicine dance. They were all medicine men, skilled at doctoring. Skunk went up to the fattest beaver. “Uncle,” he said, “you are a famous healer. I have a brother waiting for me a little way off. He is very sick. He is too sick to come here. Please go with me and see what you can do for him. They tell me that you are the greatest medicine man of them all. Also I will give you many fine horses and other gifts.”
The fat beaver was flattered. Also he was thinking of the gifts that he wanted badly. So he went along. Skunk led the beaver to where Coyote was lying, pretending to be sick.
“Which is the spot that is hurting?” asked the beaver.
Skunk turned Coyote over and lifted the tail, exposing the hole beneath it. “This is where it hurts,” Skunk explained.
“Let me have a closer look,” said the beaver. He put his face right up to Coyote’s anus. A cloud of suffocating stench came out of it. “Your brother is indeed very sick,” said the beaver, coughing and sputtering. “I think the only thing to do is make a brand-new anus for your brother. The one he has now is very sick, as you can tell by the smell. It will take some time and will cost you many horses.”
“Is that so?” said Skunk, and knocked the beaver over the head with a heavy war club, killing him instantly.
“The plan is working all right,” said Coyote.
“I’m going for some more beavers,” Skunk told him. Skunk went back to where the beavers were having their dance. Again he picked out the fattest one. “Uncle,” he said, “your relative couldn’t heal my sick brother. I gave him many horses and much buffalo-hump meat, but it was no use. I guess that relative of yours is not as good as you when it comes to healing.”
“You spoke the truth, little nephew,” said the beaver. “Nobody is as good as myself. Lead me to your brother quickly so that I can doctor him.” This beaver was already dreaming of horses and hump meat.
“Where does it hurt?” the beaver asked after they got to the place where Coyote was lying. Again Skunk turned Coyote over and lifted his tail. “It’s his anus,” he said. “It has been ailing for a long time. I’m afraid it can’t be cured.”
“Nonsense,” said the beaver. “There’s not one anus in the whole world that I cannot cure, no matter how sick. Let me have a look.” He peeked closely under the tail and Coyote let out a stupendous fart, which almost choked that beaver to death. Sputtering and holding his nose, he told Skunk: “This is the sickest anus I’ve ever come across. You can tell by the awful smell. Also this nether-hole is all worn out from too much farting. I must make a new anus for your brother.”
“I’m sure you are the right man to do this,” said Skunk, knocking him over the head and killing him.
“We have a very good partnership, little brother,” said Coyote. “I’m sure glad I did not make an end of you.”
“So am I,” said Skunk. “Well, I think I’ll go for some more beavers.
In this way the two of them lured and killed one beaver after another. “I am really glad to have met you,” Skunk told Coyote.
“Likewise,” said Coyote. They divided the meat fairly and went home.
MONSTER SKUNK FARTHING EVERYONE TO DEATH
{Cree}
Monster skunk was killing people and animals in most unpleasant ways. He would break wind against them, or discharge his juice against them, or shit on them. He killed them all one way or another, and then ate them.
A crier ran through the village, shouting: “Save yourselves! Save yourselves, the Monster Skunk is coming. He will fart you to death!”
The people were in a panic, taking their tents down, wrapping up their children, running here and there, not thinking at all, not thinking because they were too afraid to think. Some of the elders said: “We must have a meeting. We must keep our heads.”
They had a meeting. “Who will go and scout?” said one old man. “We need a volunteer to go and tell us from where this monster is coming. Otherwise we might flee to just the spot where he is waiting to kill us.”
The mouse squeaked: “I will go, but somebody must go with me. I won’t go alone.”
So the weasel volunteered to go with the mouse.
“You are small,” said the old man, “but you are brave.”
The mouse and the weasel went together. They came to something very big, big as a hill. “What is this strange thing?” asked the weasel.
“Be quiet,” whispered the mouse. “It is the Monster Skunk’s foot.”
The monster had not noticed them—they were too small. They ran as fast as they could back to their camp, to tell the people Monster Skunk was coming from the east. He was not far away.
Then Bobcat and Coyote, who were the bravest, offered to try to kill the Monster Skunk. “I shall get him by the throat,” said Bobcat.

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