Coyotes -- Canis latrans, recall a poem by Loren Eiseley:
'I have met the echo people, coyotes,
once in my youth, deep in a badland canyon, coming
upon them unaware. They vanished
before I could speak. Esahcawata, Old-man-coyote’s people
quick of foot, hunted by all, surviving
traps and poison bait, surviving
where the great wolves have vanished, admirable
tricksters in an endless war. I would have spoken
peace, but my kind know it not. They did well
not to trust me—the trap-shy scurriers at midnight.
Their songs are few now. They live by the thoughts
of Esahcawata and no other thinking is
possible for them.
Their songs echo the wind. They are echo people
under the sky are echoers and the millennia listen
and are silent.
It will be so with us. I have remembered
all my life how fast they scampered. We the laughers
do not understand fear because of our numbers
and when we vanish
no one will tell stories about our cleverness, the night wind
will not long echo laughter for Old-man, the trickster
married the whirlwind and myth will have us
as part of the singular spinning of a dust-devil
on a dry prairie. They are the echoers, we
a jumble of leaves and dust
quickly gone by. Lovers of form we will be formless
in the tales to come.' ~ "In The Tales To Come" by Loren Eiseley, 1976.