The Badgers were disgusted. They grabbed the Coyote, and hauling him up the ladder, threw him into the plain, where, toonoo, he fell far away and swooned from loss of breath. When he recovered his thoughts he again turned toward the glowing sky-hole, and, crawling feebly back, threw himself down into the room again. Again he was thrown out, but this time the Badger said: “It is marvellously strange that this Coyote, the miserable fellow, should insist on coming back, and coming back.”
“I have heard,” said the little old Badger-woman, “that our glorious beloved youth of Háwikuh was changed some time ago into a Coyote. It may be he. Let us see when he comes again if it be he. For the love of mercy, let us see!”
Ere long the youth again tried to clamber down the ladder, and fell with a thud on the floor before them. A long time he lay there senseless, but at last opened his eyes and looked about. The Badgers eagerly asked if he were the same who had been changed into a Coyote, or condemned to inhabit the form of one. The youth could only move his head in acquiescence.
Then the Badgers hastily gathered an emetic and set it to boil, and when ready they poured the fluid down the throat of the seeming Coyote, and tenderly held him and pitied him. Then they laid him before the fire to warm him. Then the old Badger, looking about in some of his burrows, found a sacred rock crystal, and heating it to glowing heat in the fire, he seared the palms of the youth’s hands, the soles of his feet, and the crown of his head, repeating incantations as he performed this last operation, whereupon the skin burst and fell off, and the youth, haggard and lean, lay before them. They nourished him as best they could, and, when well recovered, sent him home to join his people again and render them happy. Clad in his own fine garments, happy of countenance and handsome as before, and, according to his regular custom, bearing a Deer on his back, returned the youth to his people, and there he lived most happily.
As I have said, this was in the days of the ancients, and it is because this youth lived so long with the Deer and became acquainted with their every way and their every word, and taught all that he knew to his children and to others whom he took into his friendship, that we have today a class of men—the Sacred Hunters of our tribe,—who surpassingly understand the ways and the language of the Deer.
Thus shortens my story.
THE BOY HUNTER WHO NEVER SACRIFICED TO THE DEER HE HAD SLAIN:
OR THE ORIGIN OF THE SOCIETY OF RATTLESNAKES
IN very ancient times, there lived at Tâ′ia,[9] below the Zuñi Mountains, an old shíwani or priest-chief, who had a young son named Héasailuhtiwa (“Metal-hand”), famed throughout the land of the Zuñis for his success in hunting.