I was letting our girls free-range on Saturday afternoon (broad daylight) when a coyote attacked two of them, about 50 feet away from me but behind a big rock and down a little slope so it wasn't in my line of sight. I heard horrible squawking and sprinted over, just in time to see it re-catch one of the girls, who looked like she had broken away, pick her up and carry her off into the woods. I started throwing things and making loud noises, but it didn't care. I herded the remaining girls back into the coop and went back with my husband to check if we could find the second victim. We searched and we called but there was no response, and we kept finding piles of feathers. At one point we glimpsed the coyote again, also searching for the other chicken it knew must have been around there somewhere. We finally decided to call off the search because if she was there and didn't want to be found, we weren't going to find her. I am devastated and feel like such an awful chicken mom; I mean, I was right there with them but clearly wasn't vigilant enough, and the coyote must have known that I was there but decided the lunch opportunity was too good to pass up! My husband took me out for dinner to distract me and try to cheer me up. While we were out I kept thinking that maybe there was hope for that second missing girl and perhaps at nighttime she would return to the coop, the way I've read in so many stories on here. By the time we got home, it was pretty dark. I was walking around the car after putting it in the garage, when I happened to see some feathers right outside the garage door. They definitely had not been there earlier. We started searching near the house, and then checked the barn. There were more feathers and fresh poo near the stall where the coop is. We went into the barn and there in the corner of the chickens' stall was our missing girl!!! She was clearly exhausted and terrified and it must have been a feat of instinct and adrenaline that helped her survive that afternoon, with the coyote actively looking for her and who knows however many other predators out there, and get back home. We lifted her up and saw a pretty big bite wound on her back that amazingly wasn't bleeding, but was deep and ugly. We brought her in, cleaned it out, and gave her food and water. She scarfed down both, which made me happy to see. At that point she didn't look like she was in too much pain, though by the next morning she was definitely hurting. We also found 3 more wounds, one under her wing, one on her side and one on her rear, but none are as bad as the one on her back. We've been cleaning and putting antibiotic ointment on the wounds and feeding her scrambled egg, yogurt, and a mash of her layer pellets, all of which get munched greedily. She's taking our treatment like a champ, and I think barring any internal injuries she is going to do her absolute best to recover. Caring for her is alleviating the pain of losing the other girl, though I still feel like it's my fault that she's all torn up in the first place. One piece of dark humor about the whole situation: the restaurant my husband took me to is my favorite Mexican restaurant, and on the weekends they have 2 guitarists who go around to the tables and sing for folks. They were just starting their shift soon after we sat down, and the first song they played was: The Chicken Dance!!! Complete with lyrics about la gallinita, little whistling sounds to imitate chicks peeping, etc. My husband asked if I was going to cry, but I just started laughing. I mean, how could you not??? Given that we found the other girl when we got home I've decided to interpret that as a sign from the universe that our own little gallinita was making her way back to us, against all odds.