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The coyote's brother.

joneworlds@mailbox.org

Many years ago, my brother and I worked as loggers. One day, as we drove our trailer truck to the landing where the skidders drug the logs, we felt something pass under the front wheel. Upon stopping, we saw sadly it had crushed a coyote. Its partner came to me, and spoke.

"Thou killed my brother. And now in return I demand the life of yours."

"My brother's life is not mine to give, though your loss pains me. Take now my bread and my meat, and our apology."

The coyote snorted. "A lunch for a life, a foul payment. I will meet you again in one year."

The next year, my brother and I returned to those woods to work. The coyote came to me a second time, and spoke.

"A year hence, thou killed my brother. And now in return I demand the life of yours."

"My brother's life is not mine to give, though your loss pains me. Take now my warm blanket, and our apology."

The coyote snarled. "A carpet for a companion, a contemptible purchase. I will see you again in one year."

The next year, my brother and I worked those woods once again. The coyote came to me a third time, and spoke.

"Two years hence, thou killed my brother. And now in return I demand the life of yours."

I became angry. "Two times, I have offered in sympathy what I could, for an accident of no ill will. And two times you have rudely refused. Be off, and bother me not again."

"And yet, still you will pay."

The radio in the truck turned to dust on the driver's seat, which then changed into an owl that flew and perched on the tallest log. And then the coyote's eyes flashed as its body changed into black coal. At first a few lumps, then a pile, and then a whole mountain of the stuff sinking deep into the ground before me.

We came never again to those forests, but heard years later that they had been stripped for the delving of a great mine. And that great wealth was now in that region.

And despite this, I cannot forget the coyote's final words.