Halíksai! At Íshmovala the Coyote was living, and at Nûvátûk'aovi, a short distance east of Íshmovala, the Turkey lived. They both had children and were great friends, and often visited each other. One time when the Coyote came to the house of the Turkeys they fed him piñon nuts, which he relished very much. The little Turkeys were very nicely figured, and the Coyote enjoyed looking at them. He envied them for their beautiful feathers and was wondering how they were figured so nicely. As he looked at them he stroked their bodies with a forepaw. "Yes," the Turkey mother said, "I baked these, my children. I put them into an oven and baked them, then I ate their meat, but I did not break any bones, nor did I bite into any bones. Them I left entirely unhurt. Early in the morning I
put them into a tray, waved them up and down, singing the following song over them:
Pipichacha, pipichacha (archaic).
Talahoya, hûwamu, itimu!
Wake up, please, my children!
Then I threw all the bones outside and there my children got alive again, and since then they are so beautifully figured." She was, of course, deceiving him. "Oh!" the Coyote said; "yes, these are very pretty, and I shall do the same."
In the evening he returned to his house and early the next morning he went after wood. Returning with the wood, he heated his oven. He made the oven very hot, then took one of his children and pitied it, but the little Turkeys had been so pretty and he had so envied them for their pretty figuring, that he threw the little Coyote into the oven. Hereupon another one, and another one, as he had a great many children. He threw them into the oven until the oven was full. He placed a stone over the opening and plastered up the oven. While they were being baked in the oven he ground some corn to make some hurúshiki. So in the evening he took them out of the oven and found them thoroughly baked. He took out one after another and then commenced to eat. They tasted very fine. He ate all the meat, but the bones he did not hurt. He did not break any, nor did he crush any with his teeth. Gathering the bones into a basket he went to sleep.
During the night the Turkey mother said to her children: "We had better flee away from here on account of your uncle, the Coyote, because he will be very angry and will certainly come and devour us." Hereupon she sent her children away to the San Francisco Mountains (near Flagstaff). She took the pelts, blankets, etc., in which they had been sleeping, and rolling some of the smaller ones up, placed them on the floor and covered them up so as to make them appear as if they were still sleeping, under the covering. Hereupon she followed her children.
The Coyote in the meanwhile got up once and looked whether the sun was not yet rising, but it was still dark. After a while he looked again and then the sun came out. He at once took the tray (tûchaíya) containing the bones of his children, went out with it, waved it up and down the way the Turkey Woman had shown him, and sang the song which she had told him she had sung over the bones of her children. Hereupon he also threw the bones away. But alas! nothing became alive, and only the bones were lying there. When he saw what had
happened he cried bitterly and became very angry. "I shall go over to the house of the Turkey," he said, "and shall certainly devour the little Turkeys too." Hereupon he went over to his friend's house, running very fast. When he came to the house he at once entered and thought they were all sleeping nicely. He jumped upon their beds and grabbed what he believed to be the young Turkeys, but found that nobody was there. They had deceived him. "Ah," he said, "they have run away, but I shall certainly overtake them." So he rushed out, hunted up the tracks of the Turkeys and followed them running very fast. While the Coyote was following their tracks, the Turkeys had arrived at the Little Colorado River, but when they had crossed it the little Turkeys were very tired. "I shall leave you here," their mother said, "and run ahead of you." But one of the little ones was crying very bitterly. The Turkey mother ran ahead to the San Francisco mountains and informed the Turkeys living there about what had happened. "You that are strong come quickly and help us; the Coyote is following us and he will kill my children. You go quickly and get them." So two of the Turkey men that were very strong came out and ran towards the place where the Turkey mother had left her children. The latter, however, remained because she was very tired.
The Coyote in the meanwhile found the little Turkeys and chasing them, said: "Aha, I shall devour you" (Alí kurzh nu úmui cówani). The little Turkeys were running around and crying very bitterly. just as the Coyote was about to take one of the little Turkeys the two Turkey men came upon him, grabbed the little ones, of which there were two, took them on their backs and ran away with them. "Why do you take them away?" the Coyote cried. "I am hungry and I want to eat them. That is the reason why I followed them." But they did not listen, and as they were strong and the Coyote was very tired, he had to return to his home hungry. But before he got home he died.
199:1 Referring to the exposed roots of trees, herbs, etc., standing up above the ground.
199:2 Told by Kwáyeshva (Oraíbi).