Raven vs. Coyote

A Story for All Ages By Aaron McEmrys

One day Raven and Coyote bumped into one another at the Village of the Animals. “It’s been a long time, Raven” said Coyote. “Yes, a very long time” replied Raven stiffly, as if he’d just stepped in something icky. Raven and Coyote have never gotten along.

“Oh, how lucky we are that you are here!” breathlessly huffed Badger the Village Chief as he ran up to them. We’ve got terrible troubles, you see, and we need a hero.”

“Of course you do. How right of you to come to me.” replied Raven with a bow.

“Err, I think you’ll find he was talking to me” snarled Coyote contemptuously.

“There is a terrible monster in the Far Meadow. It’s already captured all the little animals, like Tit Mouse, Duck and Shrew – and now we predators have no one left to eat! You must help us.”

“I’ll get right on it!” Raven and Coyote cried at the same time. “No, I’LL get right on it!” “Not if I get there first, you don’t.”

And so Raven and Coyote fell to bragging and bickering over who was the mightiest as they had so many times over the centuries. “I am Raven, Stealer of the Sun and Defeater of the Wendigo!” “Big deal. I am Coyote, Scourge of Rabbits, Star Howler and Chomper of Mice!” And so it went, on and on, until Chief Badger could take no more.

“Stop it! The fact is we need a hero, a mighty warrior, and I don’t care who it is. Whichever one of you can defeat the Black Beast of the Far Meadow – that one will be crowned Mightiest of Warriors. All glory will fall to you and we will spread the tale of your victory far and wide.”

“And if Coyote fails (as he always does)?” grumbled Raven.

“Whichever of us doesn’t chase off the Black Beast must go and live alone in the Murky Swamp.” Growled Coyote.

“It’s a bet” they said at once.

And so the next morning the two heroes set off, each determined to prove that he was the mightiest warrior of them all.

Raven looked magnificent. He was decked head to tail-feather in a fine suit of armor made of bark from an ironwood tree. Perhaps his helmet was several sizes too big for him and perhaps he did look a little silly when he discovered that his armor was too heavy for flying – still, he cut a fine figure as he hopped laboriously off toward his destiny.

Coyote looked fearsome too, bristling with so many clubs, spears, bows and arrows that he seemed at least half porcupine. Carrying so many weapons wasn’t easy, and perhaps he looked a little foolish, accidentally thwacking people whenever he turned around. “Ooops, sorry. My mistake. Beg pardon…” Still, he too cut a fine figure as he ploughed off toward the Far Meadow like a thorn bush on legs.

The closer they got to the meadow the more little critters they saw. “Hey, you, Groundhog!” growled Coyote, “I’m feeling peckish. You know the rules.”

“Stay back, Coyote. We’re under the protection of the Black Beast – and believe me, you will be very, very sorry if you try to eat any of us.”

“Three cheers for the Black Beast!” cried Fieldmouse and a chorus of delicious morsels cheered, “Hip Hip Hooray!! Hip Hip Hooray! Hip Hip Hooray!”

“It’s even worse than I thought” said Raven quietly. “They’re revolutionaries.”

Coyote and Raven growled and cawed; menaced and lunged, but they were so slow and clumsy in the gear of war that the animals just laughed and danced easily out of reach.

And then they saw it.

There, watching them calmly was a very strange creature. It was indeed black, as black as the blackest night with your eyes closed and a blanket over your head. A single white stripe ran straight down its back like warpaint.

“You can stop right there” said the Black Beast. “This is not your home, and these creatures are no longer your playthings. They are under my care. You may help yourself to some water from the river, but then you must go.”

“Hah!” cawed Raven and “Hah!” howled Coyote. “We are mighty warriors, but you, so-called Black Beast, are just a little thing, just the perfect size for a snack, in fact. Bear and Wolf must be cowards indeed to be frightened by a stuffed-animal like you!”

And with that Coyote rushed forward with all his bristling weapons, his teeth sharp and long. But the Black Beast did not run, no, she did not. Instead she casually turned around, lifted her tail – and sprayed Coyote square in the face with a jet of the worst smelling smell in the history of the world!

He didn’t know what hit him. Coyote ran yelping in circles like a confused porcupine, tears pouring from his stinging eyes before turning tail and fleeing the Meadow just as fast as his paws could carry him.

Raven couldn’t believe it either. It was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Coyote humiliated by that little black sprayer. He couldn’t wait to tell the other animals what a scardey cat Coyote was.

It was then he noticed the Black Beast was taking aim at him. “Hah!” Raven cawed, “Take your best shot, beastie! You’ll never hit me, for I am faster than all the four winds – up, up and awaaaaaayyy…..uh, oh.”

Raven had forgotten that he couldn’t fly with all that heavy armor on – and it was just as he realized this that the Beast hosed him down with a powerful squirt of pure yuckiness!

It took days, weeks even, for the smell to go away. Raven and Coyote sat in the river all day long like two friends in a bath tub.

“Being a warrior isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it?” asked Coyote thoughtfully.

“No it’s not,” answered Raven with a frown. “No it’s not. Pass me the soap, will you?”