Coyote and the Prairie Dogs (Campfire Story)

One day COYOTE was hungry. Very hungry. And he came to a prairie dog town, with prairie dogs popping up out of their holes everywhere. Fat ones. And Coyote licked his lips.

But you can't just catch a prairie dog. They see you coming, and pop! Down the hole they go.

So Coyote got an idea. He took some long hair from a buffalo's leg and tied it to the end of a stick, so it looked like a scalp, the kind warriors carried in a victory dance. And he walked into the prairie dog town, waving it.

'Prairie dogs! Come out! We're going to have a dance! Everybody shut your doors, so nobody falls in, and come dance!'

Well, the prairie dogs loved a dance. So they all came out, and closed up the doors of their holes, and made a big circle. And Coyote stood in the middle, waving his stick, and they danced around him. DANCE! DANCE!

But Coyote had a stone hidden in his other hand. And as the prairie dogs danced past him, he hit them with it, one at a time. And one by one, they fell down.

'Oh, don't worry about them,' said Coyote. 'It's the dancing. They're just tired out. They'll get up again this evening. Keep dancing!' DANCE! DANCE!

Now, there was one little prairie dog, the smallest of all, riding around the circle on his mother's back. And he saw. And he shouted, 'He's got a stone in his hand!'

The prairie dogs screamed and ran for their holes. But they'd shut their own doors! And they couldn't get in. And Coyote ran around after them, and got a lot more of them, before the rest got away.

'Ha!' said COYOTE. 'What a feast!'

So he built a big fire. And when it burned down, he pushed the hot ashes aside, and laid all the prairie dogs in the hot ground, to bake, with the littlest one on top. And he covered them over with ashes, and built the fire up again on top. And then, while they cooked, he lay down and went to sleep. Because a big meal like that takes a long time.

And while he was asleep, along came Wildcat.

Wildcat smelled the cooking. And he dug down quietly, and took out all the prairie dogs. And he pulled off their tails, and stuck the tails back down in the ashes, sticking up, so it looked like the prairie dogs were still there. And he put the little one back on top, right where it was. And he carried all the rest away, and ate them.

Coyote woke up. He stretched. 'Ah! Dinner should be ready.' He took a stick and poked out the first prairie dog. It was the little one. 'Oh, I don't need this one,' he said, and he threw it away over his shoulder. It flew through the air and landed up in a tree beside the stream.

Then he grabbed a tail and pulled. Out came the tail. Nothing on it. 'Oh, the tail burned off.' He grabbed another tail. Just a tail. Another. Just a tail! He poked all around in the ashes with his stick. Nothing. They were all gone.

'Well,' said COYOTE, 'at least I've still got the little one.' And he went to find it.

And there it was. He could see it, lying down in the water of the stream. So he dove in after it. SPLASH! He felt all around on the bottom. Nothing. He came up, and looked. There it was, still lying in the water. He dove again. SPLASH! Nothing.

Four times he dove. SPLASH! SPLASH! And four times he came up with nothing. And at last he crawled out, soaking wet and worn out, and lay down on the bank to rest.

And he looked up. And there, in the tree right above him, was the little prairie dog. He'd been diving after its reflection.

So Coyote climbed up and got it. And he ate it, bones and all. And that was his whole feast.