“There, now, didn’t I tell you, little fools, to be careful? It was the grease that burnt you. Now I hope you know enough to eat a little more moderately. There’s plenty of time to satisfy yourselves, I say,” cried the old Coyote, sitting down on his haunches.
Then the little cubs and the old woman attacked the delicacy again. “Atu-tu-tu-tu-tu-tu-tu!” they exclaimed, shaking their heads and flapping their ears; and presently they all went away and sat down, observing this wonderful hot pudding.[14]
[14] It may be well to explain here that there is no more intensely painful or fiery bite known than the bite of the fire-ant or red ant of the Southwest and the tropics, named, in Zuñi, halo. Large pimples and blisters are raised by the bite, which is so venomous, moreover, that for the time being it poisons the blood and fills every vein of the body with burning sensations. [Back]
Then the Coyote looked around and observed that the meat was gone, and, following the grease and blood spots up the tree with his eye, saw in the top the pack of meat with the Turtle calmly reclining upon it and resting, his head stretched far out on his hand. The Turtle lifted his head and exclaimed: “Pe-sa-las-ta-i-i-i-i!”
“You tough-hided old beast!” yelled the Coyote, in an ecstasy of rage and disappointment. “Throw down some of that meat, now, will you? I killed that deer; you only helped me skin him; and here you have stolen all the meat. Wife! Children! Didn’t I kill the deer?” he cried, turning to the rest.
“Certainly you did, and he’s a sneaking old wretch to steal it from you!” they exclaimed in chorus, looking longingly at the pack of meat in the top of the tree.
“Who said I stole the meat from you?” cried out the Turtle. “I only hauled it up here to keep it from being stolen, you villain! Scatter yourselves out to catch some of it. I will throw as fine a pair of ribs down to you as ever you saw. There, now, spread yourselves out and get close together. Ready?” he called, as the Coyotes lay down on their backs side by side and stretched their paws as high as they could eagerly and tremblingly toward the meat.
“Yes, yes!” cried the Coyotes, in one voice. “We are all ready! Now, then!”
The old Turtle took up the pair of ribs, and, catching them in his beak, crawled out to the end of the branch immediately over the Coyotes, and, giving them a good fling, dropped them as hard as he could. Over and over they fell, and then came down like a pair of stones across the bodies of the Coyotes, crushing the wind out of them, so that they had no breath left with which to cry out, and most of them were instantly killed. But the two little cubs at either side escaped with only a hurt or two, and, after yelling fearfully, one of them took his tail between his legs and ran away. The other one, still very hungry, ran off with his tail lowered and his nose to the ground, sidewise, until he had got to a safe distance, and then he sat down and looked up. Presently he thought he would return and eat some of the meat from the ribs.
“Wait!” cried the old Turtle, “don’t go near that meat; leave it alone for your parents and brothers and sisters. Really, I am so old and stiff that it took me a long time to get out to the end of that limb, and I am afraid they went to sleep while I was getting there, for see how still they lie.”