(Name apparently of Mexican origin.) The prairie wolf. Notes and Queries, 6 S. x., xi.
a. 1628. Hernandez, ‘Anim. Mex. Hist.’ (1651). N.E.D.
1793. Coyotl seu vulpes Indica.—Pennant, ‘Hist. Quadr.,’ i. 257. (N.E.D.)
1834. The little grey collotes or prairie wolves, who are as rapacious and as noisy as their bigger brethren.—Albert Pike, ‘Sketches,’ &c., p. 14 (Boston).
1846. A species of jackal, called here the coyote, frequently approached within a few rods of us.—Edwin Bryant, ‘What I saw in California,’ p. 245 (N.Y.). (Italics in the original.)
1849. Horses staked out with the leather or hide lariats, are often set free by the gnawing teeth of these coyotes; but they are not so apt to sever the lariats made of hair.—Theodore T. Johnson, ‘Sights in the Gold Regions,’ p. 147 (N.Y.). (Italics in the original.)
1850. The coyotes or prairie-wolves kept up an incessant angry barking around us, but not sufficient to break our slumbers…. They have a frightened, thievish, sneaking look, and are of a tawny color, about the size of a bull-terrier, some larger and some smaller.—James L. Tyson, ‘Diary in California,’ pp. 60, 67 (N.Y.).
1852. Upon my feet in an instant, I discovered a bulging object in the path, which proved to be the bloated carcass of a mule, upon which a horde of cayotes had been regaling, and, disturbed in their repast, hovered howling about, sometimes approaching in their covert, slinking way.—Knick. Mag., xxxix. 225.
1852. He who has slept sweetly in the dense forests of the far and mighty West, with a pack of howling “Cayotes” around him, cannot be disturbed by the barking of contemptible puppies.—Mr. Weller of California, U.S. Senate, July 6: Cong. Globe, p. 797, App.
1860. What was my disgust to find nothing but a saucy coyote, not worth a charge of powder.—T. H. Hittell, ‘Adventures of J. C. Adams,’ p. 77 (S.F.).
1860. The News urged, with all the power of its half-rat and half-kiota howl, the election of Douglas.—Oregon Argus, Oct. 6.
1860. You may guess there was but little meat on it when the kiotas left it.—Letter to Oregon Argus, Nov. 24.
1885. Even in that bitter weather he brought in enough foxes, swifts, and coyotes to make me a large robe.—Mrs. Custer, ‘Boots and Saddles,’ p. 112 (N.Y.).
1888. The coyotes never let up until they have taken aboard so much rabbit-meat that they can hardly stir.—San Francisco Examiner, March 22 (Farmer).
1888. Buffalo, antelope, blacktail deer, coyote, jack-rabbits, scurried out of our way on that march, and we could not stop to follow…. The railroad stretches its iron bands over these desert wastes, and scarcely a skulking coyote, hugging the ground and sneaking into gulches, can be discovered during a whole day’s journey.—Mrs. Custer, ‘Tenting on the Plains,’ pp. 661, 662–3.
