Post by Okwes on Apr 1, 2007 22:14:50 GMT -5
Coyote's Squirrel Hunt - Klamath
In the grassy ground under the oak trees at the edge of the plain were many holes. There squirrels lived, and there were many of them. Badger's house was not far away. Early every morning he took up a heavy stick and went there, and lay down upon the ground, each day in a new spot.
When the smallest squirrels came out of their holes Badger did not move. Not a twitch. So the little squirrels grew brave and drew close.
"He sleeps,' whispered one.
"He is dead,' said another.
They came closer.
"Asleep!"
"Dead!"
The little squirrels tiptoed closer still. They peered at Badger's paws. They pulled at his eyelids to peek into his eyes. They sniffed at his nose and squeaked to see his sharp teeth. They admired the streak of white on his head and nose.
"Nice," said some.
"Pretty,' said others. And together they turned him over to admire his fur coat. They pinched and patted and climbed on his back, but Badger never moved.
"Dead,' said the little squirrels, and went off to look for acorns.
Soon the half-grown squirrels came out of their holes and discovered Badger. And the same thing happened. They too looked and sniffed and pinched and went away. Last of all came the biggest squirrels. They too began to poke and prod, and debated how Badger had died. But no sooner had a number of good, fat squirrels gathered around, than Badger leaped up and killed them all with his club.
Every morning he picked another spot and did the same.
One morning Coyote passed by on his way to go fishing, and saw Badger lying like dead.
"No arrow," thought Coyote. "He has not been shot. What can be wrong?"
He hid in the shadows to watch, and soon a big squirrel stuck his head out of his hole. He was followed by others.
Coyote forgot about Badger. He thought of roast squirrel and wished he had his bow and arrows. There was nothing he liked better, he decided, than squirrel! Then suddenly, as quick as Coyote could blink, Badger bounced up and hit out with his stick.
One-two-three-four-five!
"Five! How did you do that?" cried Coyote as he trotted up. "Ah-hai! The stick! It is a magic stick."
"No," said Badger.
"Then what did you do?"
"Nothing," said Badger.
Coyote did not believe him. "Come, what did you do?" he asked, and once more Badger said, "Nothing." Coyote helped to carry the squirrels to Badger's house and on the way he asked again and again until at last Badger tired of his questions, and told him how to catch squirrels by doing nothing at all.
"Tso, tso!" Coyote laughed, for he loved tricks. "Tomorrow I shall go squirrel hunting."
That night, he could not sleep. He was so-eager for morning to come that he kept getting up to see whether dawn had come. At the first light he took up a stout stick and set out to look for a good squirrel-hunting place. When at the edge of the forest he found one with many holes, he lay down and did not move.
The little squirrels came out first, just as Badger said. They peered into Coyote's eyes and pulled at his ears, and he thought of roast squirrel. They looked into his nose and played with his paws, and he could almost smell the squirrel soup. But then they rolled him over and climbed on his chest. Their tiny feet danced on his ribs.
And Coyote was ticklish.
He held his breath, but that was no help.
He tried to think of roast squirrel.
Of squirrel stew.
Of squirrel soup.
But nothing helped. Coyote began to laugh, and the little squirrels jumped up in the air in fright and dashed away.
So Coyote ate acorns for dinner.
Back in the Beforetime: Tales of the California Indians [the Klamath River region in the north to the inland desert mountains and the southern coastlands] Retold by Jane Louise Curry, 1987
In the grassy ground under the oak trees at the edge of the plain were many holes. There squirrels lived, and there were many of them. Badger's house was not far away. Early every morning he took up a heavy stick and went there, and lay down upon the ground, each day in a new spot.
When the smallest squirrels came out of their holes Badger did not move. Not a twitch. So the little squirrels grew brave and drew close.
"He sleeps,' whispered one.
"He is dead,' said another.
They came closer.
"Asleep!"
"Dead!"
The little squirrels tiptoed closer still. They peered at Badger's paws. They pulled at his eyelids to peek into his eyes. They sniffed at his nose and squeaked to see his sharp teeth. They admired the streak of white on his head and nose.
"Nice," said some.
"Pretty,' said others. And together they turned him over to admire his fur coat. They pinched and patted and climbed on his back, but Badger never moved.
"Dead,' said the little squirrels, and went off to look for acorns.
Soon the half-grown squirrels came out of their holes and discovered Badger. And the same thing happened. They too looked and sniffed and pinched and went away. Last of all came the biggest squirrels. They too began to poke and prod, and debated how Badger had died. But no sooner had a number of good, fat squirrels gathered around, than Badger leaped up and killed them all with his club.
Every morning he picked another spot and did the same.
One morning Coyote passed by on his way to go fishing, and saw Badger lying like dead.
"No arrow," thought Coyote. "He has not been shot. What can be wrong?"
He hid in the shadows to watch, and soon a big squirrel stuck his head out of his hole. He was followed by others.
Coyote forgot about Badger. He thought of roast squirrel and wished he had his bow and arrows. There was nothing he liked better, he decided, than squirrel! Then suddenly, as quick as Coyote could blink, Badger bounced up and hit out with his stick.
One-two-three-four-five!
"Five! How did you do that?" cried Coyote as he trotted up. "Ah-hai! The stick! It is a magic stick."
"No," said Badger.
"Then what did you do?"
"Nothing," said Badger.
Coyote did not believe him. "Come, what did you do?" he asked, and once more Badger said, "Nothing." Coyote helped to carry the squirrels to Badger's house and on the way he asked again and again until at last Badger tired of his questions, and told him how to catch squirrels by doing nothing at all.
"Tso, tso!" Coyote laughed, for he loved tricks. "Tomorrow I shall go squirrel hunting."
That night, he could not sleep. He was so-eager for morning to come that he kept getting up to see whether dawn had come. At the first light he took up a stout stick and set out to look for a good squirrel-hunting place. When at the edge of the forest he found one with many holes, he lay down and did not move.
The little squirrels came out first, just as Badger said. They peered into Coyote's eyes and pulled at his ears, and he thought of roast squirrel. They looked into his nose and played with his paws, and he could almost smell the squirrel soup. But then they rolled him over and climbed on his chest. Their tiny feet danced on his ribs.
And Coyote was ticklish.
He held his breath, but that was no help.
He tried to think of roast squirrel.
Of squirrel stew.
Of squirrel soup.
But nothing helped. Coyote began to laugh, and the little squirrels jumped up in the air in fright and dashed away.
So Coyote ate acorns for dinner.
Back in the Beforetime: Tales of the California Indians [the Klamath River region in the north to the inland desert mountains and the southern coastlands] Retold by Jane Louise Curry, 1987
