This is a story from the old times, when the People still lived in the original country of Tuma Okani, in the first village of Dunup Oka.
     It is said that at the beginning, the twins Day and Night each asked the Maker of All Things for the rule of the sky. Eager to prevent strife between them, the Maker of All Things ordained that they should rule the skies in turn. So it was that Day would light the skies for a time, warming the earth and making the oaks grow tall; then Night would spread gloom over the earth, allowing it to cool. And all the things that the Maker brought forth knew light and darkness from the very start.
     It happened once that the People grew weary of Night. They wanted more time to gather food, and Night cut the time they had for it in half. His darkness, too, was a terror to them, for the other creatures the Maker had made would hunt them then, just as the People hunted them during the rule of Day. There was no moon yet in that time, and the People knew nothing of fire; nor had River Woman yet happened across the embers that flung aloft would become the stars.
     “It would be good,” the People told each other, “if Day ruled the skies always. Then we would not have to sleep or cower every time the darkness comes, but could do as we willed.” And they went to Day to learn if there was any way to bring this about.
     But Day said “What can I do? I too wish the land could be in light always, but the Maker of All Things has divided the rule of the skies between me and my brother. I am sorry for you, but I cannot go against her and Night both.”
     At this the People were unhappy, for they had trusted in Day’s aid. But some among them said “There is no cause to despair. Though Day will not help us, neither will he oppose us. Has he not as much as said he would not be displeased if what we want were to come about? Let us, then, see if there is someone else who can save us from Night.”
     So the People approached Coyote, thinking him the most likely to help. For Coyote loved meddling with what the Maker had wrought, delighting in change for the sake of change. They told him of their need and asked if there was anything he could do.
     “Why should I wish to extend the power of Day?” laughed Coyote. “The hunting is better under Night’s rule. If anything, I would rather help him.”
     The People pleaded, even offering to do his hunting for him in the doubled time of light. But Coyote would not listen. “You hope to turn me into a fat lazy dog,” he said, “but I am too clever for you.” With that, he sent them on their way.
     Returning dejected to their village, the People happened on Squirrel, burying a nut. “What has brought this sadness on you, my children,” asked Squirrel, “and how can I lift it from you?” For even in that time, Squirrel looked after the People. Glad to find a friendly ear at last, they told him their desire.
     Squirrel agreed that it would be better if Day ruled the skies always. “Think of the nuts I could store if I had twice the time!” he cried. “Nor would Coyote or the Ghost Owl find it so easy to catch me if there were no darkness.”
     “But how can it be brought about?” asked the People.
     “Watch,” said Squirrel, showing them the nut. “This nut I place in the hole is Night—see! It is dark in the hole. But I cover the hole over and all is light: the dark is buried, and Night is gone.”
     “Night would never allow us to bury him in a hole,” the People said.
     “Then the best thing to do,” said Squirrel, “is to trick Night into covering up his own darkness.”
     “Who could do this,” the People asked, “and who knows where Night may be found? We have already asked Coyote for his assistance, and he will not help us.”
     “Is no one clever but Coyote, then?” Squirrel scoffed. “I can find Night! Lend me your aid, and I will do the thing myself!”