242. It happened that during the day, while Coyote was absent, a messenger had come to the camp of the hunters from another camp to tell them that an individual named Mai, or Coyote, had left his home, and had been seen going toward the camp of the Hummingbirds, and to warn them against him. “He is an idler and a trickster,—beware of him,” said the messenger. So when they found out the condition of their visitor they said: “This must be Coyote of whom we have heard. He has been playing with the Tsĭ′di Sási and has lost his eyes.”
243. When they had arrived at this conclusion they started for camp and led the blind Coyote along. In the mean time they devised a plan for getting rid of him. When they got home they took the rattling dress of Tsiké Nazĭ′li and gave her an ordinary garment to wear. Then a Chicken-hawk took the dress in his beak, and, flying a little distance above the ground, shook the dress in front of Coyote. The latter, thinking the maiden was there, approached the sound, and as he did so the Chicken-hawk flew farther away, still shaking the dress. Coyote followed the rattling sound, and was thus led on to the brink of a deep canyon. Here the hawk shook the dress beyond the edge of the precipice. Coyote jumped toward where he heard the sound, fell to the bottom of the canyon, and was dashed to pieces.
244. But for all this he did not die. He did not, like other beings, keep his vital principle in his chest, where it might easily be destroyed; he kept it in the tip of his nose and in the end of his tail, where no one would expect to find it; so after a while he came to life again, went back to the camp of the birds, and asked for Tsiké Nazĭ′li. They told him she was gone away, and ordered him angrily to leave, telling him they knew who he was, and that he was a worthless fellow.
245. Coyote left the camp of the birds, and wandered around till he came to the house of one of the anáye, or alien gods, named Yélapahi,[71] or Brown Giant. He was half as tall as the tallest pine-tree, and he was evil and cruel. Coyote said to the Brown Giant, “Yélapahi, I want to be your servant; I can be of great help to you. The reason that you often fail to catch your enemies is that you cannot run fast enough. I can run fast and jump far; I can jump over four bushes at one bound. I can run after your enemies and help you to catch them.” “My cousin,” responded Brown Giant, “you can do me service if you will.” Coyote then directed the giant to build a sweat-house for himself, and, while the latter was building it, Coyote set out on another errand.
246. In those days there was a maiden of renowned beauty in the land. She was the only sister of eleven divine brothers.[81] She had been sought in marriage by the Sun and by many potent gods, but she had refused them all because they could not comply with certain conditions which she imposed op all suitors. It was to visit her that Coyote went when he left Yélapahi at work on the sweat-house.
247. “Why have you refused so many beautiful gods who want you for a wife?” said Coyote to the maiden after he had greeted her. “It would profit you nothing to know,” she replied, “for you could not comply with any one of my demands.” Four times he asked her this question, and three times he got the same reply. When he asked her the fourth time she answered: “In the first place, I will not marry any one who has not killed one of the anáye.” When he heard this Coyote arose and returned to the place where he had left Yélapahi.
248. On his way back he looked carefully for the bone of some big animal which Great Wolf had slain and eaten. At length he found a long thigh-bone which suited his purpose. He took this home with him, concealing it under his shirt. When Coyote got back, Yélapahi had finished the sweat-house.[82] Together they built the fire, heated the stones, and spread the carpet of leaves. Coyote hung over the doorway four blankets of sky,—one white, one blue, one yellow, and one black, and put the hot stones into the lodge. Then they hung their arms and clothes on a neighboring tree, entered the sudatory, and sat down.[83]
249. “Now,” said Coyote, “if you want to become a fast runner, I will show you what to do. You must cut the flesh of your thigh down to the bone and then break the bone. It will heal again in a moment, and when it heals you will be stronger and swifter than ever. I often do this myself, and every time I do it I am fleeter of foot than I was before. I will do it now, so that you may observe how it is done.” Coyote then produced a great stone knife and pretended to cut his own thigh, wailing and crying in the mean time, and acting as if he suffered great pain. After a while of this pretence he put the old femur on top of his thigh, held it by both ends, and said to the giant: “I have now reached the bone. Feel it.” When the giant had put forth his hand, in the absolute darkness of the sweat-house, and felt the bare bone, Coyote shoved the hand away and struck the bone hard with the edge of his knife several times until he broke the bone, and he made the giant feel the fractured ends. Then he threw away the old bone, rubbed spittle on his thigh, prayed and sang, and in a little while presented his sound thigh to the giant for his examination, saying: “See! my limb is healed again. It is as well as ever.” When he had thus spoken Coyote handed his knife to Yélapahi, and the latter with many tears and loud howls slowly amputated his own thigh. When the work was done he put the two severed ends together, spat upon them, sang and prayed, as Coyote had done. “Tóhe! Tóhe! Tóhe!”[84] he cried, “Heal together! Grow together!” he commanded; but the severed ends would not unite. “Cousin,” he called to Coyote, “help me to heal this leg.” Coyote thought it was now time to finish his work. He ran from the sweat-house, seized his bow, and discharged his arrows into the helpless Yélapahi, who soon expired with many wounds.
250. Coyote scalped his victim, and tied the scalp to the top of a branch which he broke from a cedar-tree; as further evidence of his victory, he took the quiver and weapons of the slain and set out for the lodge of the maiden. He knew she could not mistake the scalp, for the yéi, in those days, had yellow hair,[85] such as no other people had. When he reached the lodge he said to the maiden: “Here is the scalp and here are the weapons of one of the anáye. Now you must marry me.” “No,” said the maiden, “not yet; I have not told you all that one must do in order to win me. He must be killed four times and come to life again four times.” “Do you speak the truth? Have you told me all?” said Coyote. “Yes; I speak only the truth,” she replied. Four times he asked this question, and four times he received the same answer. When she had spoken for the fourth time Coyote said: “Here I am. Do with me as you will.” The maiden took him a little distance from the lodge, laid him on the ground, beat him with a great club until she thought she had smashed every bone in his body, and left him for dead. But the point of his nose and the end of his tail she did not smash. She hurried back to her hut, for she had much work to do. She was the only woman in a family of twelve. She cooked the food and tanned the skins, and besides she made baskets. At this particular time she was engaged in making four baskets. When she returned to the lodge she sat down and went on with her basket-work; but she had not worked long before she became aware that some one was standing in the doorway, and, looking up, she beheld Coyote. “Here I am,” he said; “I have won one game; there are only three more to win.”
251. She made no reply, but took him off farther than she had taken him before, and pounded him to pieces with a club. She threw the pieces away in different directions and returned to her work again; but she had not taken many stitches in her basket when again the resurrected Coyote appeared in the doorway, saying: “I have won two games; there are only two more to win.”