Chapter 8: A desperate situation

Out in the prairie, Coyote felt agitated. There had been no steady rain for almost a full moon, and the playa was dry. Tall grasses bordering the dried lake, crucial cover for the small animals that Coyote fed on, stood parched and brittle. The plentiful wildlife that took refuge there had scattered or died of thirst. Tormented by the cloudless sky and relentless sun, she moaned for the recent storm that did not give a single drop of rain. When would this dry spell end?

Weakened from hunger and thirst, Coyote considered moving on in search of wetter ground, but how far and in which direction would she have to travel? She lifted her head and let out a plaintive howl, “Oowwwooooowwoooo…yip, yip, yip.” This was her call to the prairie community. Coyote needed counsel from the leaders. Silence followed her repeated call, "Oowwwooooowwoooowwoooooo…yip, yip." Then, nearing surrender, rustling grass signaled a response. Ten feet away, Jack Rabbit crouched.

“Huh, I thought I was the only one left,” he said, his whiskers twitching. “What’s keeping you here, she-wolf?”

Coyote crawled towards Jack Rabbit. She was losing strength. “I waited too long to find a new hunting ground. Now food and water are gone.” She slumped to the earth next to him; bald patches visible in her fur.

Wise to Coyote’s tricks, Jack Rabbit was not buying the weakling act. “There is a nice patch of prickly pear cactus over that ridge.” Jack replied, keeping his distance. “I know it’s not your favorite food, but it’s sweet and juicy.” Jack knew he was her favorite food, and he was determined not to be her next meal.

“Show me. And don’t go too fast, please.” She struggled back to her feet.

Jack Rabbit hopped slowly, keeping his eye on her. It was frustrating, considering he could outrun a horse from a dead stop. Struggling behind, Coyote was eager for something to fill her stomach and quench her thirst. The ridge was close, but the journey was long and uphill. When they crested the ridge, Coyote beheld a massive patch of prickly pears. In this dried-up desert, they were beautiful, flat green disks with yellow flowers and soft hair-like thorns. She fell upon the patch and gorged herself, not bothered by the pricks of the thorns in her mouth. After some time, her eating slowed, and she sat back and panted, then burped.

“Not as satisfying as a jackrabbit or a prairie chicken. I’d even eat a horny toad and enjoy it, but starvation has made me less picky.” Licking her chops and spitting out thorns, Coyote laid down for a nap.

“Glad to help. I’ll be going now.” Jack turned to leave.

“Wait. I need your help. I think we should talk to the horse in the human village.” Coyote was close to begging Jack Rabbit. It was humiliating, but she had no choice. She might not make it there on her own.

“I’m not sure I can trust you not to eat me.” Jack was clear. “Now that have your strength back, you have no reason not to.”

“I understand why you would not trust me. Many times, I chased you when I was stronger and didn’t catch you. I know I can’t catch you now,” she said.

“I will go there with you, but you must stay at least 20 yards behind me.” Jack warned. “If you try to close the gap, I’m gone.”

They crossed the prairie to the human village to see the horse leader. Coyote kept her distance, and they arrived to find Walt in the pasture, next to the barn.

Walt looked up and, seeing them, approached. “Greetings. What brings you here?” Seeing these animals so close to the ranch house was unsettling.

Coyote spoke first. “Food and water are gone. So are most of the animals. What should we do?”

“I heard of this from the brothers when they came in from their work.” Walt said. “Are you the only two left?”

Before meeting up with Coyote, Jack had been covering a lot of ground, searching for others. He said, “Except for Coyote, I have not seen another animal in many days.”

Disturbing as it sounded, Walt did not have an answer. The dry playas, and the animals, were in danger. It would take many heavy storms to fix this problem.