A Hopi story

   It was the height of summer, the time of year 
   called Hadotso, the Great Heat. All day long, 
   from a blue and cloudless sky, the blazing sun 
   beat down upon the earth. No rain had fallen 
   for many days and there was not the slightest 
   breath of wind to cool the stifling air.  
   Everything was hot and dry. Even the rose-red 
   cliffs of the canyons and mesas seemed to take 
   on a more brilliant color than before.

   The animals drooped with misery. They were 
   parched and hungry, for it was too hot to hunt 
   for food and, panting heavily, they sought 
   what shade they could under the rocks and 
   bushes.

   Rabbit was the unhappiest of all. Twice that 
   day the shimmering heat had tempted him across 
   the baked earth towards visions of water and 
   cool, shady trees. He had exhausted himself in 
   his desperate attempts to reach them, only to 
   find the mirages dissolve before him, receding 
   further and further into the distance.

   Now, tired and wretched, he dragged himself 
   into the shadow of an overhanging rock and 
   crouched there listlessly. His soft fur was 
   caked with the red dust of the desert. His 
   head swam and his eyes ached from the sun's 
   glare.

   'Why does it have to be so hot?' he groaned. 
   'What have we done to deserve such torment?' 
   He squinted up at the sun and shouted 
   furiously, 'Go away! You are making everything 
   too hot!'

   Sun took no notice at all and continued to 
   pour down his fiery beams, forcing Rabbit to 
   retreat once more into the shade of the rock. 
   'Sun needs to be taught a lesson,' grumbled 
   Rabbit. 'I have a good mind to go and fight 
   him. If he refuses to stop shining, I will 
   kill him!'

   His determination to punish Sun made him 
   forget his weariness and, in spite of the 
   oppressive heat, he set off at a run towards 
   the eastern edge of the world where the Sun 
   came up each morning.

   As he ran, he practiced with his bow and 
   arrows and, to make himself brave and strong, 
   he fought with everything which crossed his 
   path. He fought with the gophers and the 
   lizards. He hurled his throwing stick at 
   beetles, ants and dragonflies. He shot at the 
   yucca and the giant cactus. He became a very 
   fierce rabbit indeed.

   By the time he reached the edge of the world, 
   Sun had left the sky and was nowhere to be 
   seen.

   'The coward!' sneered Rabbit. 'He is afraid to
   fight, but he will not escape me so easily,'
   and he settled to wait behind a clump of
   bushes.

   In those days, Sun did not appear slowly as he 
   does now. Instead he rushed up over the 
   horizon and into the heavens with one mighty 
   bound.  Rabbit knew that he would have to act 
   quickly in order to ambush him and he fixed 
   his eyes intently on the spot where the Sun 
   usually appeared.

   Sun, however, had heard all Rabbit's threats 
   and had watched him fighting. He knew that he 
   was lying in wait among the bushes. He was not 
   at all afraid of this puny creature and he 
   thought that he might have some amusement at 
   his expense.

   He rolled some distance away from his usual 
   place and swept up into the sky before Rabbit 
   knew what was happening. By the time Rabbit 
   had gathered his startled wits and released 
   his bowstring, Sun was already high above him 
   and out of range. Rabbit stamped and shouted 
   with rage and vexation. Sun laughed and 
   laughed and shone even more fiercely than 
   before. Although almost dead from heat, Rabbit 
   would not give up.  Next morning he tried 
   again, but this time Sun came up in a 
   different place and evaded him once more.

   Day after day the same thing happened. 
   Sometimes Sun sprang up on Rabbit's right, 
   sometimes on his left and sometimes straight 
   in front of him, but always where Rabbit least 
   expected him. One morning, however, Sun grew 
   careless. He rose more leisurely than usual, 
   and this time, Rabbit was ready. Swiftly he 
   drew his bow. His arrow whizzed through the 
   air and buried itself deep in Sun's side.

   Rabbit was jubilant! At last he had shot his 
   enemy! Wild with joy, he leaped up and down. 
   He rolled on the ground, hugging himself. He 
   turned somersaults. He looked at Sun again - 
   and stopped short.

   Where his arrow had pierced Sun, there was a 
   gaping wound and, from that wound, there 
   gushed a stream of liquid fire. Suddenly it 
   seemed as if the whole world had been set 
   ablaze. Flames shot up and rushed towards 
   Rabbit, crackling and roaring. Rabbit paused 
   not a moment longer. He took to his heels in 
   panic and ran as fast as he could away from 
   the fire. He spied a lone cottonwood tree and 
   scuttled towards it.

   'Everything is burning!' he cried. 'Will you
   shelter me?'

   The cottonwood shook its slender branches 
   mournfully. 'What can I do?' it asked. 'I will 
   be burned to the ground.'

   Rabbit ran on. Behind him, the flames were 
   coming closer. He could feel their breath on 
   his back. A greasewood tree lay in his path.

   'Hide me! Hide me!' Rabbit gasped. 'The fire
   is coming.'

   'I cannot help you,' answered the greasewood 
   tree. 'I will be burned up roots and 
   branches.'

   Terrified and almost out of breath, Rabbit 
   continued to run, but his strength was 
   failing. He could feel the fire licking at his 
   heels and his fur was beginning to singe. 
   Suddenly he heard a voice calling to him.

   'Quickly, come under me! The fire will pass
   over me so swiftly that it will only scorch my 
   top.'

   It was the voice of a small green bush with 
   flowers like bunches of cotton capping its 
   thin branches. Gratefully, Rabbit dived below 
   it and lay there quivering, his eyes tightly 
   shut, his ears flat against his body.

   With a thunderous roar, the sheet of flame 
   leaped overhead. The little bush crackled and 
   sizzled. Then, gradually, the noise receded 
   and everything grew quiet once more.

   Rabbit raised his head cautiously and looked 
   around. Everywhere the earth lay black and 
   smoking, but the fire had passed on. He was 
   safe!

   The little bush which had sheltered him was no 
   longer green. Burned and scorched by the fire, 
   it had turned a golden yellow. People now call 
   it the desert yellow brush, for, although it 
   first grows green, it always turns yellow when 
   it feels the heat of the sun.

   Rabbit never recovered from his fright. To 
   this day, he bears brown spots where the fire 
   scorched the back of his neck. He is no longer 
   fierce and quarrelsome, but runs and hides at 
   the slightest noise.

   As for Sun, he too was never quite the same. 
   He now makes himself so bright that no one can 
   look at him long enough to sight an arrow and 
   he always peers very warily over the horizon 
   before he brings his full body into view.