Gladly Kathat-a-kanave returned to the stone house, and with a hearty good-will he cut many canes or sticks. He carried them to the house, and laid them out as he had been directed, all the time accompanied by the Coyote, who rejoiced to see his friend so cheerful and happy. Kathat-a-kanave told Coyote what was to occur, and Coyote rejoiced in the wonderful event that was about to take place. When all was ready Kathat-a-kanave was so wearied with his arduous labors that he retired to lie down and sleep, and bade Coyote watch and be especially mindful that no sound of any kind whatever issued from his lips. Coyote solemnly pledged himself to observe the commands,--he would not cease from watching, and not a sound should be uttered. Feeling secure in these promises, Kathat-a-kanave stretched out and was soon sound asleep. Carefully Coyote watched. Darker grew the night. No sound except the far-away twho! twho! of the owl disturbed the perfect stillness. Suddenly the sticks began to move. In the pitch blackness of the house interior, Coyote could not see the actual change, the sudden appearing of feet and legs and hands and arms and head, and the uprising of the sticks into perfect men and women, but in a few moments he had to stand aside, as a torrent of men, women, and children poured out of the doorway. Without a word, but thrilled even to the tip of his tail with delight, he examined men, women, youths, maidens, boys, girls, and found them all beautifully formed and physically perfect. Still they came through the door. Several times he found himself about to shout for joy, but managed to restrain his feelings. More came, and as they looked around them on the wonderful world to which they had come from nothingness, and expressed their astonishment (for they were able to speak from the first moment), Coyote became wild with joy and could resist the inward pressure no longer. He began to talk to the new people, and to laugh and dance and shout and bark and yelp, in the sheer exuberance of his delight. How happy he was! Then there came an ominous stillness. The movements from inside the house ceased; no more humans appeared at the doorway. Almost frozen with terror, Coyote realized what he had done. The charm had ceased. Those Above were angry at his disobedience to their commands. When Kathat-a-kanave awoke he was delighted to see the noble human beings Those Above had sent to him, but when he entered the hawa his delight was changed to anger. There were hundreds more sticks to which no life had been given. Infuriated, he turned upon Coyote and reproached him with bitter words for failing to observe his injunction, and then, with fierce anger, he kicked him and bade him begone! His tail between his legs, his head bowed, and with slinking demeanor, Coyote disappeared, and that is the reason all coyotes are now so cowardly, and never appear in the presence of mankind without skulking and fear.