“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” exclaimed the Coyote. “Aye! aye!” and he bobbed his head from side to side to dodge the Swallows, until he missed his footing, and down he tumbled, heels over head,—meat, Coyote, and all,—until he struck a great pile of rocks below, and was dashed to pieces.
That was the end of the Coyote; but not of my story.
Now, the brothers went on hunting again. Then, one by one, they returned home. As before, the Mountain Lion came in last of all. He smelt all about the room. “Whew!” exclaimed he. “It still smells here as if twenty Coyotes had been around. But it seems to me that our fine brother-in-law isn’t anywhere about.”
“No,” responded the rest, with troubled looks on their faces. “Nobody has seen anything of him yet.”
“Shom—m-m!” remarked the Mountain Lion again. “Didn’t I tell you, brothers, that he was a fool and would forget your directions? I say I told you that before he started. Well, for my part, I hope the beast has gone so far that he will never return,” and with that he ate his supper.
When supper was over, the sister said: “Come, brothers, let’s go and hunt for my husband.”
At first the Mountain Lion growled and swore a great deal; but at last he consented to go. When they came to where the trails forked, there were the tracks of the Coyote on the left-hand trail.
“The idiot!” exclaimed the Mountain Lion. “I hope he has fallen off the cliff and broken every bone in his body!”
When at last the party reached the mountain, sure enough, there lay the body of the Coyote, with not a whole bone in him except his head.
“Good enough for you,” growled the Mountain Lion, as he picked up a great stone and, tu-um! threw it down with all his strength upon the head of the Coyote.