out with a new skin. Coyote approached the Otters and asked to be allowed to take part in the game, but the Otters had heard about him and knew what a rascal he was. They refused him and told him to begone; but still he remained and pleaded. After a while they went apart and talked among themselves, and when they returned they invited Coyote to join them in their game. Coyote bet his skin and lost it. The moment he lost, the Otters all rushed at him, and, notwitstanding his piteous cries, they tore the hide from his back, beginning at the root of his tail and tearing forward. When they came to the vital spot at the end of his nose his wails were terrible. When he found himself denuded of his skin he jumped into the water, as he had seen the Otters doing; but, alas! his skin did not come back to him. He jumped again and again into the water; but came out every time as bare as he went in. At length he became thoroughly exhausted, and lay down in the water until the Otters took pity on him and pulled him out. They dragged him to a badger hole, threw him in there, and covered him up with earth. Previous to this adventure Coyote had a beautiful, smooth fur like that of the otter. When he dug his way out of the badger hole he was again covered with hair, but it was no longer the glossy fur which he once wore; it was coarse and rough, much like that of the badger, and such a pelt the coyotes have worn ever since.
265. But this sad experience did not make him mend his ways. He again went round challenging the Otters to further play, and betting his new skin on the game. "Your skin is of no value; no one would play for it. Begone!" they said. Being often refused and insolently treated, he at length became angry, retired to a safe distance, and began to revile the Otters shamefully. "You are braggarts," he cried; "you pretend to be brave, but you are cowards. Your women are like yourselves: their heads are flat; their eyes are little; their teeth stick out; they are ugly; while I have a bride as beautiful as the sun." He shook his foot at them as if to say, "I am fleeter than you." He would approach them, and when they made motion as if to pursue him, he would take a big jump and soon place himself beyond their reach. When they quieted down, he would approach them again and continue to taunt and revile them. After a while he went to the cliff, to a place of safety, and shouted from there his words of derision. The Otters talked together, and said they could suffer his abuse no longer, that something must be done, and they sent word to "the chiefs of the Spiders, who lived farther down the stream, telling them what had occurred, and asking for their aid.
266. The Spiders crept up the bluff, went round behind where Coyote sat cursing and scolding, and wove strong webs in the trees
