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Coyote and the Rio Grande
by Marie French
One day Coyote was walking along the
banks of a dried up arroyo in Far West Texas
close to Mexico. It was the end of the sum-
mer. The land should be cooling, Coyote
thought to himself. But instead the sun was
beating down on his back, shining so bright-
ly the leaves were singed on the desert willow
trees, and the buzzards were flying over-
head. Coyote felt hot and thirsty.
In his most desperate plea and prayer to
the Creator, Coyote cried in his very dry and
crusty voice, “Creator, please send me a
cloud.”
A cloud came just then and made shade
for Coyote.
But Coyote was still not satisfied. Coyote
was just still too darned hot in his opinion. In
fact, he was still roasting, and that buzzard,
well, he was still circling overhead, as if to
remind Coyote that he would soon be his
meal for the evening.
So, in Coyote’s most desperate raspy
voice he called to the Creator. “I would like
many fluffy clouds,” Coyote called to the
heavens.
More fluffy clouds came overhead
bumping into one another to shade Coyote.
Coyote looked up and saw that not only was
the sky covered in clouds, now they looked
sort of stormy.
Unfortunately, Coyote was still not satis-
fied. He was panting from the heat, and he
was still hot. So Coyote called out once
again to the Creator. “How about some
rain?” he panted.
The rain came in a downpour. A gully
washer. The rain came down in buckets,
drenching Coyote to the skin.
Now Coyote was feeling better, but he still
wanted more. He wanted to make sure he
never felt the heat of the West Texas sun on
his back without being able to find relief
from the heat.
So again Coyote looked up to the heav-
ens, and this time in his drenched state he
cried, “Oh, how about a creek to put my feet
in?” said Coyote.
So a creek sprang up beside him as the
rains continued to pour down. Coyote then
went into the creek to wade in the stream
and cool off his feet.
Now feeling rather cocky he looked up to
the heavens and said, “It needs to be deep-
er.”
The creek then became a huge swirling
river, full, rich with water and rapids.
Coyote was swept over and over the rocks by
the water. Choking on the water, Coyote
nearly drowned. The river spat him up on
the banks of what is now the Rio Grande.
Coyote appeared dead. The buzzard
overhead finally thought he had his dinner.
He landed by Coyote just as Coyote woke
up. Coyote screamed “I am not dead!” to
the buzzard.
The buzzard flew off in disgust.
Coyote got up and went to the banks of
the river, shook off and looked into the Rio
Grande River and said a prayer of thanks-
giving. That is how the Rio Grande River
began.
The Rio Grande – a river in constant flux from
high waters to low, a river of myth and a river of lore.
The stories of the Rio Grande started a long, long
time ago with a people that roamed the region before
these wild lands became settled. This legend is an
adaptation of a Mescalero Apache tale. Many
Native Americans used stories to explain why things
happened. The stories also served as a map through
the territories. Each story explained water holes, safe
places to sleep or the places that would become famil-
iar as passed down from generation to generation, thus
forging the way for each generation.
A co-op gallery representing
Texas artists showing original
fine art and craft.
Looking at this tale as a map, you can see it is the
end of summer, and in Far West Texas we get our
rain during the later part of the summer months. You
can also see from this story that our weather is still
hot. This story also tells us that it is very hot in the
latter part of the day, the time of day when the clouds
form and the rain comes.
This story map tells us that the rains come in
gully washers, and that the arroyos can fill quickly
with water. This would be a good traveling time for
the Native Americans as water would be available.
The buzzards are still around in this story, which
tells us fall has not set in because buzzards are the
harbinger of spring and summer, and they leave in the
fall.
Lastly, most Native American myths have a les-
son, and this one certainly does: don’t be greedy, or you
may not like the consequences.
So the next time you are traveling somewhere,
make up your own travel myth, and pass it on. It is
a wonderful way to remember the scenic landmarks
and to remember the natural history of a place.
Old Town Square
N. 5th St. and Sul Ross
Alpine
432.837.7203
www.bbacgallery.com
C ONtEMPOrAry W ESt t ExAS A rt
401 N. 5th Street • Alpine tx 79830
(432)837-5999
representing work by
Charles Bell • Karl Glocke
Ling Dong • Carlos Campana
Hours vary or by appointment
Art and Guitar classes • Weekend workshops offered
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Etc.
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Cenizo
Fourth Quarter 2010
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