The Singing Scoutmaster: Coyote and the Magic Buffalo

One hot, dry season, when the sun blazed mercilessly and the earth cracked under the weight of the heat, the plains were in dire straits. The rivers dried up, shrinking into thin, muddy trickles, and the once-green grass turned brown and brittle. The animals of the plains were hungry and thirsty, wandering aimlessly in search of food and water that seemed to have vanished from the land. Their ribs showed through their fur, and their eyes were filled with despair. The birds no longer sang, and the deer moved sluggishly through the dust, hoping for a miracle.

It was during this desperate time that Coyote, the ever-curious wanderer and trickster, roamed the dry plains, his stomach growling and his throat parched. He had been searching for food and water for days but had found nothing. As he trudged along a barren path, something caught his eye—a strange, shimmering light in the distance. Intrigued, Coyote quickened his pace, his curiosity piqued. As he drew closer, he saw a lone buffalo standing calmly under the shade of a large tree.

This was no ordinary buffalo. His fur shone with a soft, golden light, and the ground around him was lush and green, covered with fresh, healthy grass that seemed to defy the drought-stricken landscape. Coyote blinked in disbelief, his mouth watering at the sight of the vibrant green grass and the cool shade beneath the tree. He could hardly believe his eyes.

Swallowing his surprise, Coyote approached cautiously. "Who are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite the hunger gnawing at his belly. "And how is it that you have green grass and shade when the rest of the land is dry and barren?"

The buffalo turned his head slowly and looked down at Coyote, his eyes gentle but filled with a quiet power. "I am the Magic Buffalo," he said in a deep, rumbling voice that seemed to vibrate through the air. "I have the power to summon rain and make the grass grow, even in the harshest drought. But I will only share my magic with those who are kind and generous, those who give freely to others without expecting anything in return."

Coyote's mind raced. He could hardly contain his excitement. If he could convince the Magic Buffalo to share his power, Coyote would never have to worry about food or water again! He thought quickly, his clever tongue already forming the words of his next scheme. "Oh, great Buffalo," he said, bowing low, "I am honored to meet you. I have a feast waiting at my den—food and water aplenty. Come with me, and I will share it with you. It's the least I can do for such a noble creature."

The Magic Buffalo nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "Very well, Coyote. Show me your feast, and I will consider sharing my magic with you." Together, they began the journey back to Coyote's den, the Magic Buffalo's hooves leaving soft prints in the green grass that followed him like a shadow.

But as they neared his den, Coyote's heart sank. He had no feast to offer—no food, no water, not even a single scrap to share. His den was as empty and barren as the rest of the plains. Embarrassed and desperate, Coyote racked his brain for a way out. When they reached the den, he turned to the Magic Buffalo with a nervous laugh. "Ah, it seems I, uh, forgot that I gave all my food to the other animals," he lied, trying to sound sincere. "There's nothing left here. Perhaps… you could use your magic to make the grass grow now, and I'll give you a feast another time?"

The Magic Buffalo's eyes darkened with disappointment, and he shook his head slowly. "Coyote, you must give before you can receive," he said gently but firmly. "True generosity comes from the heart, not from clever words or empty promises. If you truly want to share in my magic, you must learn to give freely, without expecting anything in return. Only then will you understand the power of kindness." The buffalo turned away, his shimmering form beginning to fade as he walked.

Coyote watched in dismay as the lush green grass and cool shade vanished, leaving only dry, cracked earth in their place. He opened his mouth to argue, but the Magic Buffalo had already disappeared, leaving Coyote alone in the harsh sunlight, his den empty and his pride wounded.

Coyote sat in the dust, his ears drooping and his stomach growling loudly. "Maybe," he muttered to himself, "I should try giving first and see what happens." For the first time in his life, Coyote felt a twinge of regret for his selfishness. He knew that if he continued to think only of himself, he would always be hungry and alone. So, with a heavy sigh, he stood up and made a decision.

From that day on, Coyote began to share what little he had with the other animals. If he found a scrap of food, he gave it to the hungry birds. If he found a trickle of water, he called the thirsty deer to drink. Slowly, word spread among the animals that Coyote was no longer playing tricks or hoarding food. Though he still had very little, he gave freely, and something remarkable began to happen.

The rains returned, gently at first, then stronger. The dry earth soaked up the water eagerly, and tiny shoots of grass began to sprout. The rivers filled with clear, cool water once more, and the trees blossomed with new life. The plains, which had been lifeless and barren, burst into color and abundance. The animals rejoiced, and Coyote's heart swelled with pride and relief.

The Magic Buffalo was nowhere to be seen, but his lesson remained with Coyote forever. Coyote had learned that true power and wealth came from generosity and kindness, not from trickery or greed. And though he still had the mischievous nature of a trickster, Coyote became known as a creature who understood the value of giving.

From then on, whenever the animals of the plains gathered around, they would tell the story of how Coyote met the Magic Buffalo and learned to share. They spoke of the rains that returned and the green grass that grew, and they honored Coyote for changing his ways and bringing life back to the plains. And though the Magic Buffalo never reappeared, the animals knew that his spirit lived on in the fertile earth, in the fresh water, and in the kind actions of those who remembered his wisdom.