The Second Book of the Dun Cow: Lamentations by Walter Wangerin Jr.

names, he came discreetly
    Home.
    And I to him gave children after;
    I it was had cried through laughter,
    Come—”

PART FOUR
PART FOUR
Chauntecleer: When Weal Is Woe

[Nineteen] 'I'm Going to Lose Him,' She Thinks, 'Too Soon. Too Soon.'
[Nineteen] ‘I’m Going to Lose Him,’ She Thinks, ‘Too Soon. Too Soon.’
    Benoni Coyote has stopped his life of play and has grown more serious than is natural for one so young.
    His father’s refusal to go with the Weasel (as Benoni himself would gladly have gone) gave the little Coyote pause. The Weasel was a Creature filled with hilarities and good will. Coyotes should trust such a someone—as Ferric seemed to do when he first came. But when the Weasel suggested that Ferric leave the den, Benoni’s papa’s spine went rigid. He crouched in alarm. And now that John Weasel has taken off for the south, Benoni sees an odd collision of feelings in his father. A guilty Coyote, maybe? For not having braved the journey? A troubled Coyote? For not finding food? A desperate Coyote. Benoni’s papa seems to want to protect his family more fiercely than ever before—on account of what?
    Twill and Hopsacking are losing weight. They drink the steam’s water, but the bush has withered, and they have nothing left to eat. Even his mother doesn’t smile. She stays with her daughters inside the den. She tells them tales to distract them. Sometimes one of his sisters will nip at her mother’s cheek, begging for food, and Rachel will try to regurgitate some little something and fail. There was nothing left in his mama’s tummy.
    With a mother’s love she conceals her worries.She ends each tale with a prayer. “Rest, my children. God will bless you, and I’ll be here in the morning.”
    Actually, Rachel is doing more than comforting her daughters. She is watching her son too, and feels his burden. What was the boy-cub thinking these days?
    “I’m going to lose him,” she thinks, “too soon.”
    For he doesn’t tease his sisters anymore. When the plain Brown Bird (whom the children call Auntie) comes to visit, Benoni doesn’t greet her. He seems oblivious of her presence.
    Rachel asks, “Do you think your Auntie is too silly for you?”
    “No’m.”
    “Do your sisters annoy you?”
    “No’m.”
    “What’s happening, Noni?”
    “Nothing.”
    Rachel gazes at his soft, earnest face. “I don’t think that it is nothing. I think you want to grow up before your time.”
    Benoni looks away from his mother’s gaze. “I,” he mumbles. “I have jobs to do.”
    Comes the morning when Rachel hears the sound of a little Coyote gone. She springs from the den.
    “Noni? Benoni?”
    Her immediate fear is that he’s run down the decline again, braving the tunnel and the denizen below.
    “Benoni! You’ll kill yourself down there!”
    The plain Brown Bird flies down and says, “Zicküt!”
    She flutters in front of Rachel. “Zicküt! Zicküt!”
    The boy is not by the portal again.
    “Please,” Rachel cries, “watch my daughters.”
    The icy tundra is grand and deadly. Rachel dashes into the dark interior of the forest.
    “Benoni!”
    Echoes laugh. Ice cracks. A load of crystal crashes to the ground, and Rachel runs headlong.
    “Benoni!”
    As she goes she noses the ground, trying to find her baby’s spoor.
    “Benoni, tell me where you are!”
    She hears a faint wail to her left. She stops and holds still. Again the wail. It sounds so vulnerable. Rachel breaks in that direction. She takes extraordinary leaps over hillocks and across ditches. Quick, efficient arcs around the pine.
    “Mama!”
    Benoni! It’s you!”
    Then here comes her son like a red pellet with serious eyes. They thumps into his mother’s bosom and pushes and pushes as if to crawl inside.
    “Benoni, what is this? Why did you run away?”
    The young Coyote mews in her fur.
    She steps back. “Were you lost?”
    He nods and bursts into tears: “Hoo, hooooo.”
    Oh, how tightly Rachel gathers her son to