Long ago, before rivers remembered their names and before the People could see their own shadows, the world slept under an endless twilight. The stars shivered faintly above, too small and too far to warm the darkness. Nights and days were the same gray hour. The People stumbled when they hunted, burned their hands when they guessed wrong at the fire, and whispered that somewhere beyond the mountains, a great light was hidden by selfish spirits who refused to share it.
Among them lived Coyote, whose cleverness was as famous as his mischief. He was the wanderer, the teller of tales, the one who laughed even when the world stood still. But even Coyote grew tired of bumping his nose on tree roots and listening to frightened children cry when the winds howled too long.
One night, he stood on a ridge and lifted his snout to the dim stars.
“If no one else will fetch the light,” he said, “then I’ll do it myself. It can’t be harder than stealing a chicken—or running from one.”
Coyote padded away from camp, paws silent on the dust, and came at last to the hollow cedar where Grandmother Owl lived. Her yellow eyes burned brighter than any torch.
“Grandmother,” he asked, “who keeps the daylight from us?”
“The Sun Brothers,” she hooted. “Three tall spirits who live in a lodge of obsidian beyond the western peaks. They guard a single burning ember—the heart of all light. No creature dares to go near it.”
Coyote grinned, showing sharp teeth. “Then it’s about time someone dared.”
Owl ruffled her feathers. “Trickery won’t help you this time, Coyote. You’ll need cunning and courage. Take this.”
From beneath her wing, she drew a feather silver as frost. “It will point you toward truth if your heart does the same.”
Coyote tucked the feather behind his ear and trotted westward. After many days he found Badger, shoulders deep in the earth, claws flinging dust.
“Friend Badger,” said Coyote, “I’m off to borrow the light from the Sun Brothers. You’ve got digging strength and courage. Want to help me?”
Badger wiped his snout. “Steal from fire? You’ll burn to bones.”
“Maybe so,” said Coyote, “but I’ve seen how well you hide your holes. When those Brothers come roaring after me, I’ll need a place to vanish fast.”
Badger’s whiskers twitched. “A chase, eh? Now that’s worth seeing.” He agreed, snorting a laugh.
As they journeyed, they came upon Hummingbird, darting between the last flowers of twilight. Her feathers glowed like living flame.
“Sister,” said Coyote, “your wings move quicker than thought. We could use that kind of speed.”
Hummingbird hovered near his ear. “For what mischief this time, Coyote?”
“No mischief,” he said solemnly. “A gift for the People. There’s a spark of light trapped in a shell of stone, and we’re going to share it with the world.”
Hummingbird’s eyes flashed. “Then I’ll do it—for the thrill of flight, and for the People too.”
They traveled together across deserts that shimmered without heat, through forests where every leaf hung still, until they reached a black mountain shaped like a clenched fist. Smoke curled from its top, and the air tasted of ash.
Inside stood the lodge of the Sun Brothers—three tall figures, their hair burning gold, their eyes like molten rivers. In the center of the lodge lay the shell of obsidian that pulsed with red light, the heart of the sun.
Coyote whispered to his companions. “Hummingbird, be ready. Badger, dig fast. I’ll keep their eyes busy.”
He crept into the lodge and began to dance—spinning, howling, snapping his jaws in rhythm. The Sun Brothers stared. “What fool are you to mock our power?” one boomed.
“I’m the fool who dances better in the dark than you do in the light!” Coyote shouted. Then he leapt, twirled, and told such ridiculous jokes that the great spirits laughed despite themselves.
Their laughter shook the mountain. And in that moment, Hummingbird flashed forward, a streak of living fire, seized the glowing ember from its shell, and shot through the smoke-hole in the roof.
The Sun Brothers roared. “Thieves!”
Coyote barked once and bolted after her. Behind him, the mountain trembled as the brothers gave chase, their footsteps cracking stone.
At the foot of the slope, Badger popped up from the earth, claws flinging dirt. “Here!” he shouted. Hummingbird dove into the hole, clutching the ember, and Badger shoveled the earth closed above her just as the Brothers arrived.
The ground rumbled. Steam hissed. Then, from beneath the soil, light burst upward—a golden breath that split the sky. It poured over the plains, filled the forests, and painted the mountains in red and gold. The People awoke to see the first dawn rising from the east.
The Sun Brothers stared in silence. The ember had scattered into countless sparks—too many to reclaim. They looked upon the smiling faces of the People and sighed.
“You have stolen what was ours,” said the eldest Brother.
Coyote grinned, tail smoking but proud. “Borrowed,” he said. “And shared.”
The Brothers nodded slowly. “Then we shall share it in turn. Half the time the light will visit the world. The rest, it will sleep with us.”
And so day and night began, balanced by agreement and bound by story.
When Coyote returned to the People, his fur still smelled of smoke. “Who brought the dawn?” they asked.
He winked. “Team effort,” he said, wagging his tail, singed but shining.
That night, when the first stars blinked awake in the new sky, Grandmother Owl called softly, “Well done, little trickster. You’ve given us sight—and a tale that will never fade.”
Moral of the Story
Cleverness guided by purpose brings light to others. Even a trickster’s mischief, when shaped by wisdom and courage, can serve the world instead of himself.
Knowledge Check
1. Who guarded the light before Coyote’s theft?
The Sun Brothers, mighty spirits who hoarded daylight in a shell of stone.
2. Which friends helped Coyote on his journey?
Grandmother Owl (wisdom), Badger (strength and shelter), and Hummingbird (speed and daring).
3. How did Coyote distract the Sun Brothers?
By dancing wildly and telling jokes that made them laugh.
4. What happened when the ember touched the earth?
It split into countless sparks that became daylight and fire.
5. Why did the Sun Brothers allow the light to remain?
They saw the People’s joy and agreed to share it through day and night.
6. What is the main lesson of this tale?
Intelligence and humor, when used selflessly, can illuminate the world.
Origin: Native American (Southwestern / Plains) oral tradition–inspired folktale
Category: American Folktales
Tags: coyote, trickster tales, Native American folklore, origin of light, wisdom stories
Keyword: coyote trickster folktale
