Episode 27 – Coyote: Certified Genius – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 27 Show Notes

Source: Native American Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’ll be meeting the grinning trickster god of the First Peoples. You’ll see that being a poser has always been a bad thing, that you shouldn’t break your leg because you’re told to, and that people were almost immortal (which is a bad thing). Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll learn that a famous Batman villain used to be a Plains tribe monster. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 27, “Coyote: Certified Genius”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
So last time, I promised you that there was more news coming. Today, I’m making good on that promise! First, I wanted to remind everyone that yours truly, M. C. Williams, will be hosting a panel on Mythology in Popular Culture at DragonCon on Labor Day Monday at 11:30am. Second, I wanted to let everyone know that I will also be a panelist on a number of other fun panels throughout DragonCon over Labor Day weekend. At 2:30pm on Friday, I’ll be talking about the seventh and final season of the ABC show Once Upon a Time, which as you can probably guess, draws heavily from fairy tales and folklore, so I’m super excited to talk about it. On Saturday at 4:00pm, I’ll be taking part in the DCPT Next Top Moderator Contest. Myself and three other podcasters will take part in a wide-ranging competition to see who gets to moderate a mystery celebrity panel. On Saturday at 7:00pm, I’ll be part of the group discussing the oddball time travel comedy Future Man, and looking at the darker side of time travel that most stories just gloss over. Also on Saturday, at 8:30pm, I’ll be on the panel talking about the rash of new anthology stories on tv, such as the incredible Black Mirror, Dimension 404, and Electric Dreams. Lastly, on Monday at 1:00pm, after my Mythology in Popular Culture panel, I’ll be on a panel talking about the newest reboot of The Tick which, surprisingly, draws heavily on the idea of the mythic hero and the hero’s journey, Third, I wanted to let everyone know that we officially have merch available for purchase on Redbubble.com, including the awesome shirt that I’ll be wearing to my panels on Monday. There’s a link on the website if you want to browse. Check it out! Okay, on with the show.
We haven’t really touched on the mythology of the First Peoples of North America much so far, and with the heavy end of the Trojan War finally behind us, I thought we could use some levity. It seemed like a good time to start a three episode, around the world tour of trickster animals in folklore. To that end, it’s time to meet one of the best characters from mythology, Coyote. He’s a trickster god common to a number of the Native American tribes of North America. Physically, he’s basically the furry version of an actual coyote; he has fur, pointed ears, yellow eyes, a tail, and claws, but he walks on two legs and is capable of using tools (such as a bow and arrow). Picture Wile E. Coyote, and you’re on the right track (mentally as well as physically).
As is often the case with trickster gods, he and his myths have a complicated relationship. In some, he’s a crafty, intelligent figure, and in others, sneaky but easily tricked. In some, he’s a benevolent figure, out to help the world; in others, he’s incredibly selfish (usually to his own detriment). We’re going to be looking at three stories today that show some of the different facets of this fascinating character. The first two will be from Caddo legends, and the last will be a Navajo story. We’ll start with a serious story.
In the early days of the earth, death did not exist. The first people to be created fucked each other and gave birth to new people, who grew up, fucked, and gave birth to still more people. Pretty quickly, it became apparent that this wasn’t going to work. There were already way too many people, and they just kept coming. Pun intended. Soon, there wouldn’t be room for everyone.
Seeing the problem, the chiefs called a meeting to find a solution. There was a lot of discussion, but finally, one of the chiefs suggested that people die and go away for a little while (nine days was suggested), then come back. Everyone murmured in agreement that this seemed like a fine idea. Well, everyone except Coyote, that is. He saw that everyone was missing the point, so he leapt to his feet. “Guys, that’s a bullshit idea. If everyone dies and comes back after nine days, we’re still going to run out of room. That’s not going to get rid of enough people for enough time. We’re overpopulated. There’s not enough room for everyone to live, and there’s not enough food for everyone to eat. We can’t live forever. The only way to fix it is to have people die permanently. They die, they go away, and they don’t come back.”
Another man jumped to his feet. “How can you be so heartless, Coyote? You want us all to die forever? First off, I don’t want to go away forever; that shit sounds scary. Second, do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to lose our loved ones? That’s, like, way too sad. That much sadness would fill the world and drown all the happiness. Is that what you want, Coyote? Do you want to get rid of all of the happiness in the world? You’re an asshole, Coyote. Fuck you. Let’s vote.” The assembled chiefs took a vote, and Coyote was the only one to vote for permanent death. Everyone else opted for the stopgap measure of a metaphysical penalty box and called it a day.
Everyone shook hands and clapped each other on the back to congratulate themselves for making such a good and wise decision while shooting dirty looks at Coyote, who slunk off in frustration. Once he was gone, they got to work. First, the medicine men built a large grass longhouse with a door that opened to the east. Then, they gathered all the people of the tribe to tell them what had been decided. “My friends, we have found a way to solve the overpopulation problem. We have decided that people will die for a little while, and then be sung back to life. Over there, you see the grass house that we have built today. We will put a large black and white eagle feather on top of it, where everyone can see. When someone dies, the feather will become bloody and fall over so that everyone will know. The medicine men will be gathered together to come and sing a song to call the spirit of the dead back to the grass house. Once the spirit enters the house, we can restore it to life again and rejoin the world!” Everyone smiled and nodded. They agreed that these were good rules. They were all scared of death, and having these rules helped.
Time went by, and before long, the eagle feather turned bloody and fell over. The people knew that someone had died. The medicine men assembled in the grass house and began to sing for the spirit to return to them. They sang for nine days, as agreed. In the west, a whirlwind swirled and wandered, slowly making its way to the grass house. It circled once and finally entered the grass house through the door on the eastern side. The swirling wind sped up, whirling faster and faster until the wind moved so fast it began to coalesce into the form of a young brave who had been murdered by a neighboring tribe. The people saw him exit the house and they rejoiced! Their dead friend was back! They all felt a weight fall off their shoulders. The rules worked: death didn’t seem so bad.
From the outskirts of the town, Coyote watched with a frown. This was all wrong, and he knew it. Death shouldn’t be a vacation. This didn’t solve anything. It wasn’t long before the feather grew bloody and fell over again. Again, the medicine men gathered and began to sing. Unnoticed, Coyote slunk through the forest and up to the grass house. He watched silently as the men sang for the dead spirit for nine days until at last, he saw the whirlwind forming in the west. He waited until it began to circle around the house, and then he dashed out of hiding and bolted for the door. Before the lost spirit could enter the grass house, Coyote slammed the door shut and stood holding it closed. The medicine men inside began to bang on the door, but Coyote held it shut. The whirling spirit, unable to enter the house, passed on by never to return.
The people were angry with Coyote, and sad that their friend could never return. Death had become permanent. Coyote ran away from the village, afraid that people would blame him for what he did, even though it was needed. Ever since, he has looked over his shoulder, afraid that human beings are hunting him. He has also always been hungry, needing to steal food from others because no one will feed him.
Now that the door had been closed, never again could the dead be brought back. To this day, the lost spirits of the dead will sometimes wander the earth as whirlwinds or can be heard in the cry of the wind through the trees as they wander the earth looking for somewhere to go. Coyote has closed the door, so the spirits wander until they find the road to the spirit land.
Here, we see Coyote the trickster god outsmarting the human medicine men for their own good. He was the only one able to see the necessary choice and the only one willing to do the hard thing. He tried to be straightforward about it, but was rejected, and so he resorted to trickery. This is a common theme of trickster gods in a lot of mythologies. They can be used to achieve necessary but undesirable ends for people. That’s enough seriousness. Time for something a little lighter, also from the Caddo.
In the early days of the world, Coyote and Raven were good friends. On this particular day, Coyote had spent hours hunting for food with absolutely no luck. Frustrated and hungry, he decided to give up for a bit and go see Raven on top of Blue Mountain. “Hey Coyote! How’s it hanging?” “Low, Raven. It’s hanging low and crooked.” “That sucks, buddy. What’s got you down? No offense, but you look like shit.” “I’ve been hunting for breakfast all morning. It’s already passed lunchtime and I still haven’t caught a fucking morsel. I’m starving over here!”
Raven cocked his head to the side in that weird way birds have and then, without saying a word, he drew his bow. Silently, he nocked an arrow and fired straight up into the air. Coyote opened his mouth to ask what the fuck he was doing, but Raven just stared intently at him, and the question died in his throat. They both sat there silently as time dragged on, then Raven stretched out his wing. The arrow flashed in the sun as it fell back to earth, piercing Raven’s upper wing. He pulled the arrow out with a small grunt of pain and effort, and Coyote saw to his amazement that there was a large, delicious looking hunk of buffalo meat fixed to the arrowhead. He began to drool as Raven plucked the meat off the arrow and handed it over. Coyote devoured the bloody chunk in minutes.
He chewed loudly, with many grunts and moans of appreciation, until the meat was all gone. He leaned back and rubbed his now-full belly appreciatively. “That was amazing, Raven! That was some of the best meat I’ve had in a long time. I owe you big, buddy, and I’ll need to repay you when I get a chance. Say, how about you come visit me sometime soon?” Raven fluffed his feathers appreciatively. “That sounds awesome, bro. I’ll stop by in a few days to see you.” Coyote headed back down Blue Mountain slower than he came up, weighed down a little by the delicious meal.
Coyote and Raven had been friends a long time, but there were still plenty of things they didn’t know about each other. One big thing that Coyote didn’t know was that Raven had a magical control over the buffalo, which is how he’d pulled off his little arrow trick. I’m not sure exactly where Coyote thought the buffalo were hiding (maybe he assumed they were grazing on the clouds or something), but he was utterly confident that he could pull off the same trick.
Coyote wasn’t exactly sure when Raven would be coming by, so he built himself a brand new bow in preparation for the visit. A few days later, Raven came down from Blue Mountain to find Coyote waiting for him with a doggy grin on his face. “Heya, buddy! Good to see you again. I don’t have dinner ready or anything, since I didn’t realize you were coming by today, but no worries! I have this sweet new bow for just such an occasion. If you’ll give me a few moments, I’ll have some fresh meat for you.”
Coyote nocked an arrow, pointed straight up into the sky, and fired. It sailed up beyond sight, and Coyote waited impatiently for it to come back down. Raven just stared at his friend silently, head cocked slightly. Coyote started to tap his foot. ‘I’m stronger than I knew,’ he thought. ‘Shouldn’t that arrow be coming back…’ THUNK. The arrow, flying too fast to see easily, streaked out of the sky and landed deep in Coyote’s thigh. He stared at the raw wound in shock for a moment, then screamed bloody murder and raced off in a desperate, useless, limping attempt to get away from the unexpected pain.
Raven watched Coyote flee into the forest, yelping. He stayed there, motionless and silent, until even the cloud of dust the poor beast was raising was lost to sight. Raven shook himself and decided that this visit was apparently over. He waited a while longer, just to be polite, and then set out for Blue Mountain. He was hungry, since Coyote had never made good on his promised dinner, but he was in high spirits anyway. It wasn’t every day you got to watch a classic slapstick bit play out right in front of you! He chuckled all the way home. For days after, he couldn’t help but laugh every time he thought about it.
Coyote, on the other hand, did not enjoy the ordeal so much. He ran for miles and miles before good sense finally managed to break through his panic and agony. He slowed to a stop, took a deep breath, then wrenched the arrow out of his flesh. It came out with a chunk of his leg still attached, and he howled his fear and shame. He was so embarrassed about being humiliated in front of his friend that he broke the arrow to pieces and slunk off into the forest to hide.
He might have stayed there forever, but after a few days of misery, his stomach began to rumble. He had never actually had dinner with Raven, and he was famished. He searched the woods for something he could eat, but again, he came up empty. Stomach growling now, he decided he’d need to visit one of his friends again. Not Raven, though. He definitely wasn’t ready to face Raven again. He decided to go see his friend Brown Bear on Rich Mountain (his friends called him Griz for short).
“Coyote! Hey, man, how’s things?” He threw his friend into a bear hug (pun very much intended) then stepped back to look at him. “Actually, bud, you kind of look like shit. Are you okay?” “I’m fine, Griz. I had a little accident in the woods, though, so I haven’t eaten in a minute. I could do with some dinner.” “Yeah, sure, man. I can definitely hook you up. Hold on a sec.” Brown Bear wandered a little ways off to a persimmon tree in his yard. The branches were weighed down with ripe fruit, and Coyote’s jaws began to water just looking at them.
Brown Bear rumbled up to the tree in a slow jog. At the last moment, he turned and threw his shoulder into the tree trunk. The force of the blow jostled a rain of plump, ripe fruit to the ground in a sticky shower. Brown Bear smiled and gestured for his friend Coyote to come over and eat his fill. Coyote didn’t need a second invitation. He gorged himself on the plump fruits scattered all around until his stomach was swollen. He leaned back against the tree, rubbing his full belly contentedly. After a moment’s thought, he took his pack and filled it with the rest of the fruits that had dropped to the ground. “That. Was. Awesome. Thanks, Griz. Those persimmons really hit the spot.” He noticed that the sun was beginning to set. “The sun’s getting pretty low, big guy. I probably ought to get going, but I insist that you come visit me soon so that I can repay the favor. Brown Bear smiled and promised that he would indeed come visit soon.
Coyote didn’t want shit going down like it did with Raven, so he went out looking for his own persimmon tree. The next day, he spent hours searching for a tree with fruit on it, but he had no luck. Finally, as the sun was starting to set, he gave up and cut down one without any fruit on it. He carried it home and set it in the yard overnight. The next morning, he got up early and dug a hole in the yard big enough for the tree trunk. He set the tree down in the hole he had dug and filled in the dirt around it. Then he took the persimmons from Brown Bear’s house out of his pack and tied them to the tree branches. When he finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. Coyote smiled. It looked just as good as Grizz’s tree.
A few days after putting up the tree, Grizz came by to see Coyote as promised. “Hey, man, it’s good to see you again! You hungry? Hold on a second and I’ll russell up some grub.” He trotted smugly over to the persimmon tree and rapped it with his knuckles. Nothing happened. He knocked again, harder. Nothing. He beat the tree with his head with no luck. The persimmons had been tied too well onto the branches and just wouldn’t fall off. Finally, growing frustrated and embarrassed, he grabbed the trunk with both paws and shook it violently. The fruit tied to the branches didn’t budge. Unfortunately, the tree wasn’t attached to the ground as well as the fruit was to the tree, and Coyote’s shaking pulled it out of the shallow hole he’d buried it in and brought it crashing down on his head.
Coyote staggered to his feet with as much swagger as he could maintain. Through the tears in his eyes, he struggled to pretend as though nothing had happened and he definitely didn’t have a splitting headache from pulling a tree down on his own head. Moving gingerly, he walked around the fallen tree gathering up fallen fruit to give to Brown Bear. He was dizzy and having trouble focusing on anything but the pain he was refusing to acknowledge, so it took some time. Brown Bear was shaking with the effort of holding in his mirth at poor Coyote’s plight. Hey, nature is a cruel bitch, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that the animals have a twisted sense of humor.
Finally, Coyote had gathered up enough of the slightly bruised but still edible persimmons from the ground and removed the strings. He carried them all to Brown Bear, who nearly choked from trying to eat while holding in the laughter at Coyote’s miserable attempt to copy his cool feat. He stayed for as little time as he possibly could without being rude, and then went home. He waited until he was out of earshot to finally let out the big belly laughs that had been building all day, even as the huge knot on Coyote’s head had been.
Once Grizz was over the horizon, Coyote slumped to the ground with a small whimper. His head felt like it had been split open, and he was super embarrassed, but he was at least pleased with himself for having been able to actually feed his friend this time. Unlike Raven, Brown Bear hadn’t had to go home hungry.
A few days passed, and Coyote felt well enough again to go foraging in the forest. While out hunting, he came across a grass lodge house that he had never seen before. Being a curious fellow, Coyote decided that he should go and introduce himself to this newcomer. Besides, maybe whomever it was had some food to share. He knocked on the door and called out “Hello, my new friend! I’m Coyote.” From inside, a voice replied “Nice to meet you, Coyote. I’m Woodpecker, but you can call me Woody. Come on in!”
Coyote entered and found a bird walking around inside with a bright light on his head. Coyote, concerned but trying to be polite to his host, coughed gently. “Ah-hem. Um, Woody? I don’t want to alarm you but, uh, your head seems to be on fire. You might want to put that out, or you and your house are both going to burn up.” The Red-Headed Woodpecker smiled. “Don’t worry, Coyote. I’ve always had this light on my head. It was given to me back at the beginning of creation, and it won’t burn anything down. Trust me. Hey, are you hungry? I was just about to make supper, if you’re interested.”
Coyote was definitely interested, and he sat down to eat with his new friend. When they were finished, and Coyote had gorged himself, he stood up to leave. “That was delicious, Woody! You must let me return the favor some time. You should come by the next time you have a chance and let me get dinner for you!” “I’d like that, Coyote! I should have some free time in a few days, if that works.” They said their goodbyes, and Coyote went back home.
True to his word, Woody came by to see Coyote a few days later. He knocked gently on the door and called out “Hullo? Is anybody home?” From inside, Coyote called back “Just a minute!” There was a lot of unidentifiable rustling from inside, and then the door opened. “Alright, come in and have a seat.” Woodpecker entered and then froze. “Um, I don’t want to alarm you, but you seem to have a bundle of straw burning on your head.” “Yeah, I know. It’s cool, right?” “You should take that off before you burn your head.” “Oh, this old thing? I wear it all the time. Don’t worry, it’s not going to burn my head. I was told at the beginning that I should always wear a light on my head at night so that I can do whatever I want while everyone else is lost in the darkness.”
Surprising no one except Coyote, no sooner had he finished speaking than he felt something very, very warm on his head. He sniffed. “Do you smell something, um, burning?” His head went from warm to searing hot, and he began to scream in agony. He slapped at his head, trying to put it out, but it didn’t seem to do any good. Still howling in pain, Coyote raced out of his cabin and down to the river to dunk his head in. Woodpecker waited a long time for Coyote to come back, but Coyote stayed in the river the rest of the day, trying to cool the burning of his scalp, and he eventually gave up and went home. After that, Coyote vowed that he would be his own creature and stop trying to imitate his friends.
I love this story because it’s one where Coyote ends up with the short end of the stick. As is often the case, whenever Coyote the trickster looks like an idiot, it’s almost entirely his own fault. Our last story is a different flavor from the first two, with the tricksy Coyote functioning as the hero.
The ancient stories say that in the beginning times, cruel giants roamed the earth. They devoured anything they could catch, but their favorite food of all was little children. If kids wandered too far off into the woods on their own, giants would often capture and devour them. One day, Coyote was out minding his own business when he came across one of the colossal monsters in a rocky place.
He saw the giant, and had a thought. “Hey, cousin! I’m on my way to the creek for a sweat bath. You’re a big guy, so I didn’t want to startle you, which is why I’m getting your attention from all the way over here. You want to come with me to the sweat lodge?” The giant looked confused as he processed this exchange. He was used to people running in terror at him, not inviting him to stuff. It…it made him feel kind of good. He smiled for the first time in a long time. “Maybe, Coyote. Why, though? Why do I need a sweat bath?”
“Everyone needs a sweat bath. They’re good for you, Cousin Giant. How else are you supposed to get rid of the toxins inside you? You really need to be sweating them out every so often.” “What toxins, Coyote? That kind of sounds like a scam to me.” Even so, he looked down at his humongous gut and wondered what toxins and other no-good things might be swirling inside there. “Come with me and get your sweat on, and you’ll find out. No big deal if you don’t want to, though. I’ll just trot on by myself.”
The giant looked down at his stomach again. Maybe he could stand to sweat out some bad shit. “Alright, Cousin Coyote. Lead the way. I’ll follow you.” Coyote trotted down the hill, making sure to keep a safe distance between himself and the giant with his huge, heavy club. When they reached the creek bank, Coyote picked a nice flat place where there were trees with bark and branches. He had everything he needed to make a sweat lodge. “This is the place, Cousin Giant. You build a fire and I’ll build the lodge.”
The giant laid a clumsy fire and tried to light it using two flints while Coyote built a sweat house. When the house was built and sealed, he snuck a large, unskinned leg of deer into it. “This will show him. He’ll never want to take a sweat bath with me ever again.” After a couple of pointers from Coyote, everything was ready. Coyote and the giant crawled into the lodge, which quickly filled with steam. “Okay, Coyote, what do I do now?”
“First, you need to drink some of this bitter tea I brewed. It’s made from a lot of good herbs, so it’s all-natural and great for your system. This is the good shit, which will help get rid of all of the bad shit in your body right now.” “That sounds cool. Will it help me catch those quick little human fuckers? They make the best food, but they’re quick and hard to catch. They almost always manage to outrun me. It’s really annoying.”
“That’s just because you’re so clumsy on your feet, Giant. Look at me! I can run down anything in the forest or in the desert. It’s because I take so many sweat baths.” The giant was very big and very dumb. He was extremely gullible, so he bought everything that Coyote was selling. Coyote was the original pyramid scheme salesman. The two creatures sat in the steam sweating their balls off. It kept getting hotter and hotter, and the giant started to get uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to sweating this much, or being this hot. He didn’t like it. “Maybe we should duck out for a minute and get some fresh air. I’m hot and uncomfortable.”
“We will, we will, but first, we should drink some more of the herb brew.” He held it out to the giant, who reluctantly gulped more tea. As soon as it was down his gullet, he bolted out of the sweat lodge. He lay on the ground, gasping like a fish on the earth. “Okay, now what do we do? I’m feeling kind of sick to my stomach, Coyote. This sucks.” “Just hold on a moment. I’ll go get some plates to catch your puke. That way, you can see all the toxins the sweat lodge is driving out of you. That’s what’s making you feel so shitty right now.”
Coyote made some large plates out of pinyon tree bark and placed them in front of both of them. “Okay, giant, close your eyes and puke away.” The giant’s vomit was mostly just bile and normal looking vomit (which is still pretty gross), but Coyote’s was filled with worms and other gross, identifiable shit. He hadn’t had much luck hunting lately and had resorted to eating bugs, Coyote switched the two plates while the giant’s eyes were closed. “Oh, good lord cousin! Open your eyes and look at everything that’s been in your system. Look at all these toxins! No wonder you’re slow on your feet.”
The giant took a peek and promptly puked again. “Oh, man, that’s really gross.” “Yeah, Cousin Giant, it is. Maybe we should go back in and cleanse some more.” “Yeah, I think we should.” They both went back inside the sweat lodge, which Coyote had sealed up even better. It was now pitch black inside. They drank some more of the bitter tea.
“Now, Cousin giant, it’s time for a miracle. I’m going to break my leg and then, thanks to the healing magic of the sweat lodge, I’ll heal it up even better than ever.” Coyote picked up a heavy rock and pounded on the deer leg he’d hidden inside the lodge, snapping it with a disgusting CRACK! He cried out in pain and shrieked and made a great show of being in agony. “Here, giant, feel my broken leg. Feel the bone jutting out. Can you feel it?” He handed the giant the deer leg, who felt the nasty break and nearly vomited again. “Yeah, that’s really, really broken. Oh, I’m gonna be sick.”
“Right, well, now I’m gonna fix it. The toxins are all out of me now, so all I have to do is spit on it.” He began to spit loudly, then chanted “Be whole! Be whole! Be whole! Be as you were before I pounded on you with that rock! Become whole! Yes! I can feel it! It’s healing! Here, feel!” He slid his real leg over this time, and the giant felt the leg in the darkness. “Wow, it’s whole again! That’s incredible! How did you do it?” “I’ll show you. Give me one of your legs!” Hesitantly, the giant slid his leg over. Coyote picked up a rock. “Okay, cousin. This is going to hurt. A lot. Especially at first. You ready?”
“I’m not sure if…oh shit! Oh fucking shitballs that hurts!” Coyote had to pound on the leg for a few minutes to break it since it was so big and thick. The giant screamed and begged Coyote to stop the whole time. It was like something out of a horror movie. Eventually, Coyote felt the bone break. It was definitely not a clean break. “Okay, that did it. Now, you just need to spit on it and chant.” Sobbing in pain, the giant began to spit on his shattered leg. He spat and spat until he ran out of saliva, but it refused to mend. “Help me, Cousin! The magic isn’t working for me.” “Just keep spitting, giant. It will work eventually. You’ve got a big leg, so it’s going to take time.” Knowing that the giant wouldn’t ever be able to heal his leg right, Coyote snuck out of the sweat lodge. With a janky leg, he knew that the giant would be slower than ever and give everything he was hunting a better chance of getting away – especially the weak little human beings that Coyote kind of liked.
This story illustrates the complicated relationship the stories had with trickster gods. Sometimes, Coyote serves a necessary but unpleasant role (like in the first story). Sometimes, he’s the butt of the joke and the source of much needed comic relief (like in the second story). And sometimes, Coyote is the hero, putting his own life at risk to protect humans from the kinds of things they can’t protect themselves from. And with that, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s monster is the Two-Faced One.
Two-Face is a malevolent humanoid monster common to a number of the Plains Tribes, such as the Cheyenne, the Sioux, and the Omaha. Some stories describe it as a huge ogre, but most describe it as a normal-looking human from the front, but with a horrible second face on the back of his or her head. Some tribes have a tradition of an entire race of Two-Faces wandering the earth, while others have only one (male in some and female in others). Some stories also refer to the monster as Sharp Elbows. The names sound silly, but the monster is deadly serious.
Two-Face is a cannibal who primarily preys on children and pregnant women. He had razor-sharp elbows, which he would use to rip people who had been stunned by his horrible second face to bloody shreds while they yet lived, unable to move. If he found a pregnant woman, he would slice open her belly, pull out her children, and devour them in front of her before eating her as well.
In the legends of the Lakota, Two-Face is a woman who was disfigured as punishment for trying to seduce the sun god. Her front face is beautiful and sad, helping to lure people into trying to help her. The other is hideous, terrible to look on, representing a departure from tradition. The only way to protect yourself from the Two-Face is to avoid making eye contact with the horrible second face.
The Omaha also have a story of the Two-Face. A young woman was pregnant with twins. Her husband was leaving to go hunting for several days,and before he left, he warned her “If a strange person come here while I’m out, don’t look at him. Don’t make eye contact. You could be in danger if you do.” He left to go hunting. A couple of days later, an old man came to the lodge. Her husband wasn’t home yet, so she sat with her back to the old man and refused to look at him. He came back the next day, and she repeated the exercise, refusing to make eye contact. He came back for a third day in a row, and still she ignored him, but on the fourth, she finally couldn’t hold back her curiosity. She peeked.
Standing there was the old man, his back to her, but a horrifying ogre face was staring malevolently at her. It grinned at her, drooling through its fangs. Everyone who looked at a Two-Face died, and the young mother-to-be was no exception. She dropped dead right there on the grass as soon as her eyes met his.
Two-Face shambled over to her corpse and sliced her up with his elbows, eating her as he went. He was almost full by the time he reached her belly and found the baby inside. He pulled it out, thought about eating it, decided he was full, and tossed it into the woods to die. He didn’t realize she was having twins, so he left the second baby where it was.
That night, the woman’s husband came home to find his wife dismembered, her blood splashed all over the house, and her pregnant stomach ripped open and crawling with flies. He rushed to hold her, overwhelmed with grief, and wept over her mutilated body. Through his sobs, he heard a faint cry. He lifted his head, first thinking it was his wife somehow still alive, but he quickly realized that the sound was coming from her belly. Inside the red ruin of her stomach, he found a baby somehow still alive. He also didn’t know they had been having twins, so he never looked for the other boy. He pulled his son out of his dead mother and took her to the village to get help with healing and raising the infant boy.
Out in the woods, the second twin was found by a bean mouse. The mouse, who was lonely, took pity on the boy and adopted him. She fed him on beans, so that he was able to grow up to be a young man, strong and wild. Years later, when the twins were young men, they would meet and be shocked to see their own faces looking back at them from another’s face and know that they were brothers, named Lodge-Boy and Thrown-Away. They would feature in other stories of the Omaha tribe, but that’s a story for another day.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you like what you’ve heard, I’d appreciate a review on iTunes. These reviews really help increase the show’s standing and let more people know it exists. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff, whom you can find on fiverr.com.
Next time, it’s back to the Far East for the second episode in our three part series in trickster animals in folklore. You’ll see that fucking with crocodiles is a bad idea for anyone not named Steve Irwin, that even rabbits should read the Evil Overlord list, and that ancient nature spirits really liked to get bu-sy! Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll meet three weird, tool-wielding weasels. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.