# In the Reign of Coyote/The Subjugation of the Thunderbird

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THE SUBJUGATION OF THE THUNDERBIRD
ONE day there was a thunderstorm. At such an unusual occurrence as this, in the vicinity of San Francisco, the children were frightened. Juanita would not leave her mother's lap, and Antonio stayed close beside her. Together they said their prayers aloud. The sun was out some time before they cared to go into the courtyard. Then they sought Klayukat.
"Did you ever hear such noise before, Klayukat? Such awful noise!"
"Oh, I do not mind that noise. It cannot do any harm since Coyote made the law against it."
Did Coyote have anything to do with thunder?"
"Yes, a great deal to do with it. If it had not been for Coyote, perhaps this thunder to-day would have killed us all."
The children clasped each other's hands.
​"Sit down on the hides, and I will tell you the story."
In the early days Thunder was a mighty bird. He lived in the high mountains and rode about on the clouds. His only pleasure seemed to be in killing the animals. If he saw a bear taking a stroll, or an eagle soaring into the heavens, he would spread out dark clouds, pour down heavy rain, and wink his flashing eyes. He did not stop until his victim was quite dead. The animals became so frightened that they dared not step out of their houses.
One day Coyote came along and said: "What 's the matter with you people? You look frightened and hungry. Why don't you come out of your houses and hunt for food?"
"Oh, we dare not," they replied. "If we venture forth, Thunderbird pierces us with his fiery eye. Cannot you help us, O Coyote?"
"Why, this is serious," answered Coyote. "I will see what I can do."
He thought and thought and thought. Then he changed himself into a tiny downy feather and floated off on the wind. He sailed until he was over the home of Thunderbird. He looked well at the troublesome giant, then came down in a whirlwind ​and lighted on a dry sunflower stalk, right in front of Thunderbird's door.
Thunderbird had been watching the feather for some time. He thought, "That looks like a feather, and yet it looks like an animal." Then he sat up and took a better look at it.
"Probably," he said, "it is only a feather that I knocked out of an owl the other day. The wind has blown it here. I will try a little rain on it and see what it will do."
Then he roared in a loud tone of voice and sent down a heavy shower of rain. The feather did not move while he was doing this.
When Thunderbird ceased, the feather rose in the air and began to send down rain and thunder and most awful lightning.
Thunderbird was amazed to see such a tiny thing as a feather send down rain and thunder and lightning. "How is this?" he questioned. "I thought that I was the only Thunderbird in the world." Then, feeling jealous, he cried louder, winked quicker, and sent down heavier showers.
The feather replied with still fiercer thunder, keener lightning, and swifter rain, right into the very eyes of Thunderbird, and made him blink and dodge.
He was angrier than ever and returned the heaviest charges that he had. Still the feather ​neither blinked nor dodged, but just kept on pouring out thunder, and lightning, and rain.
Then Thunderbird flew from his rocky home into the heavens and tried to grapple with the feather. The noise was so great, and the lightning so cutting, and the rain so violent that the earth beneath was torn and burned into ravines.
Finally they came together in one close grip and fell to the earth. The shock was so great that the whole world trembled. The feather came down on top, and when it struck the earth, it turned back into Coyote.
He at once began to beat Thunderbird's head with his war club. Thunderbird pleaded for mercy, but Coyote kept on beating him until his club was shattered. Then he said: "You may live, but no more shall people see your huge body. No more may you kill or terrify. You may thunder only in the sultry summer time. You may lightning occasionally, but never more to destroy."
From that day the power of Thunderbird has been broken. He is no longer seen, and his voice and his winkings are no longer a terror to the animals.
"Oh, I 'm so glad Coyote ever lived," sighed Juanita. "I 'm going to pray for him to-night, the ​good thing, for stopping the thunder. Just think if that awful bird could swoop down on us now!"
"That is not the only awful bird Coyote conquered. There was the owl. He was nearly as bad as Thunderbird."
"The owl? I 'm not afraid of an owl," and Antonio's tones betokened his bravery. "I helped Santo take one out of the barn loft."
"Huh! An owl out of a barn loft? That is not the kind Coyote dealt with. Why, it could carry off the whole barn in one claw. Owl in a barn loft—huh!" And no pleading could win another word from Klayukat that afternoon.