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Coyote was in a mood. Perhaps it began when he realized he was not being given proper credit for having created the first person. Perhaps it began when he ran into Rabbit, who had convinced Coyote that he had to prevent the sky from falling by holding up a big rock. Coyote vowed never to let Rabbit trick him again.
Coyote sat on a small hill above the main path, watching people walk past as they stared intently at electronic devices. They did not notice him. “In my day,” he thought, “nobody needed an instrument to tell them where they were. We all knew we were right here.”
Coyote came down the hill and sauntered up the wide trail, lined by trees. The path led him past a small runoff, where it split into two different directions. Coyote saw Crow sitting on a signpost where the trails separated. “Hey, Coyote!” called Crow, “I heard Hawker was in town selling a magical potion made up of Coyote Fat to keep away the ants. Can you really keep them away?” “Great,” thought Coyote, “Everyone wants a part of me. Even if it belongs to another story. Sometimes I regret having started this whole thing.”
Coyote sat at the crossroads for a moment. One path took him up the hill, but he headed left through a grove of trees. The trail took him down a small ravine and back up again. As he left the grove, he saw Crow again, this time sitting on a small section of fence. “Hey, Coyote, what should I tell Hawker?”
Coyote did not answer, but shook his head at the wooden fence. It was clearly not designed to keep Coyote out. Or anybody else, for that matter. He went down the trail to his left and saw a bridge ahead. That meant civilization. Coyote had enough of that and took off up the hill before he came to the bridge, taking a faint trail near where water once came down.
He followed the trail as it headed around the second post, along a wide ledge to the left.
He continued on until he saw Rabbit sitting on a rock, just before the old road went downhill. “You tricked me!,” said Coyote. “I should eat you for that.” “Not me,” replied Rabbit. “It must have been my Uncle. Let me go get him. I am sure you guys can work it out.” Rabbit quickly disappeared from sight, taking another path that went up the hill to the left.
Coyote waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually, he decided to follow Rabbit. He took the path up the hill and looked across the way at a brown object with writing on it. Coyote thought about going there and dazzling the world with his art, yet again. "After all," he thought, "is there anyone who can compare?" But then everyone would know he had been there and Hawker would surely find him.
At the top of the hill, Coyote stopped. The ants scurried away. He looked down at the houses and the road, and wondered about all the changes he had seen in the world. He howled at the moon.
The path led down, but Coyote thought that he had gone far enough. He walked back a short distance and found a protected area where he could rest under a low hanging branch where three trees met. One of the trees was red. A good omen, he thought. Next to it was a tree that reminded him of the acorn stew his grandmother used to make. The third tree had softer branches near the ground. He should be safe there.
But what should he do about Hawker? The more Coyote contemplated, the more he fasted, and became thinner and thinner until there was not an ounce of fat to spare. “That should do the trick,” he thought, and sauntered away.
Some say that if you go to the spot where Coyote fasted, perhaps you will see something. Then again, you may only hear an echo of Coyote, howling at the moon. In any event, you will never see a fat Coyote.
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Coyote stopped before he saw the view in the photo below. He took refuge in a place where a madrone, oak, and fir gave him shelter. He walked about sixth tenths of a mile from the trailhead. Just follow the clues in the story until you find the cache at the place where Coyote fasted.
