Produced by Joe Longo, Emmy and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
THE TALE OF BENNY BADGER
_SLEEPY-TIME TALES_
(Trademark Registered)
BY ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
AUTHOR OF _TUCK-ME-IN TALES_
(Trademark Registered)
THE TALE OF CUFFY BEAR
THE TALE OF FRISKY SQUIRREL
THE TALE OF TOMMY FOX
THE TALE OF FATTY COON
THE TALE OF BILLY WOODCHUCK
THE TALE OF JIMMY RABBIT
THE TALE OF PETER MINK
THE TALE OF SANDY CHIPMUNK
THE TALE OF BROWNIE BEAVER
THE TALE OF PADDY MUSKRAT
THE TALE OF FERDINAND FROG
THE TALE OF DICKIE DEER MOUSE
THE TALE OF TIMOTHY TURTLE
THE TALE OF MAJOR MONKEY
THE TALE OF BENNY BADGER
[Illustration: Benny doesn't like Mr. Coyote's singing.]
_SLEEPY-TIME TALES_ (Trademark Registered)
THE TALE OF BENNY BADGER
BY
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
Author of
"TUCK-ME-IN TALES"
(Trademark Registered)
ILLUSTRATED BY
HARRY L. SMITH
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY
GROSSET & DUNLAP
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A GREAT DIGGER 1
II HUNTING FOR SOMETHING 7
III NO ONE AT HOME 12
IV MR. COYOTE SINGS 17
V SPEAKING OF GROUND SQUIRRELS 23
VI STRANGE PARTNERS 28
VII MR. COYOTE REMEMBERS 32
VIII A WATCHER AND A WORKER 37
IX A CARELESS HELPER 42
X THE SORE PAW 47
XI BIRDS' EGGS 51
XII THE PRAIRIE CHICKEN 56
XIII DON'T DO THAT 62
XIV A QUEER DISCOVERY 67
XV BENNY AND THE OWL 72
XVI SPOILING A GAME 76
XVII THE PRAIRIE DOG VILLAGE 81
XVIII SAVING THE DAY 86
XIX PLEASANT PRAISE 90
XX THE RANCHER IS ANGRY 94
XXI THE NEW HOME 99
XXII A BREAKFAST INVITATION 105
XXIII MR. DEER MOUSE IS TIMID 109
THE TALE OF BENNY BADGER
THE TALE OF BENNY BADGER
I
A GREAT DIGGER
Of course, Benny Badger had the best of reasons for living on the high,
dry plains. There he had for neighbors plenty of ground squirrels and
prairie dogs. And it is likely that he enjoyed their company much more
than they did his.
If anyone had asked them, those little wild people would no doubt have
confessed that they wished Benny Badger was somewhere else. But their
wishes meant nothing to Benny--if he knew anything of them. Although he
couldn't help noticing that his small neighbors hurried into their homes
whenever they caught sight of him, Benny never took the hint and went
away. On the contrary, when he spied a prairie dog or a ground squirrel
disappearing into his burrow Benny was more than ready to go right in
after him.
Now, the tunnels that led to the houses of those smaller folk were too
small to admit anybody as bulky as Benny Badger. But that difficulty
never hindered Benny. Digging was the easiest thing he did. He had a
powerful body, short, stout legs, and big feet, which bore long, strong
claws. And when he started to dig his way into somebody else's home he
certainly did make the dirt fly.
He was so fond of digging that he even dug countless holes of his own,
just for the fun it gave him--so far as anybody could find out. And if
he had only left other folk's holes alone some of his neighbors would
not have objected to his favorite sport. For more than one fox and
coyote had been known to make his home in a hole dug by Benny Badger.
And, though they never took the trouble to thank him for saving them
work, they often chuckled about his odd way of having fun, and remarked
among themselves that Benny must be a stupid fellow.
If they really thought that, they made a great mistake. To be sure, at
anything except digging he was slow and awkward. He was too heavy and
squat to be spry on his feet--to chase and catch his more nimble
neighbors. But no one that knew much about Benny Badger would have said
that his wits were dull. They were sharp. And so, too, were his teeth,
which he never hesitated to use in a fight.
Left alone, Benny Badger--when he wasn't too hungry--was a peaceable
person. But if a dog ever tried to worry him Benny had a most unpleasant
way of seizing his annoyer with his powerful jaws and holding the poor
creature as if he never intended to let him go.
Cornered, Benny knew no such thing as fear. He had the heart of a lion,
and jaws like a steel trap. And no wise dog ever let Benny get a good,
firm grip on him.
Usually no one saw Benny Badger except at night. He seldom left his den
in the daytime except to sun himself. And even then not many noticed
him. Though he did not hide when anyone surprised him while taking a
sun-bath, he had a trick of lying flat in the grass without moving. And
it took a sharp eye to spy him when he lay low in that fashion.
Curled up asleep, with his long fur on end, he looked too comfortable to
disturb. At least, that was what the ground squirrels thought. And if
one of those busy little fellows ever paused to stare curiously at Benny
when he was having a nap in the warm sunshine, Benny Badger had only to
awake and turn his head toward the onlooker to make him scamper for home
as fast as he could go.
It was not Benny's face, either, that frightened the ground squirrels
away, though everybody had to admit that he had a queer one. A black
patch spread over his eyes and ran like the point of a V down his nose.
For the most part, however, he was of a grayish color, with still more
black running in streaks across his back. Underneath he was a--yes! a
dirty white color. But then, one must remember that he was forever
digging in the dirt; and there was very little water where he lived.
Anyhow, he was particular enough about one thing: his long hair was
always carefully parted in the middle from his head to his tail.
And certainly that ought to show that he tried to keep himself looking
neat.
II
HUNTING FOR SOMETHING
It was a pleasant summer's night. Anyone would have supposed that it was
just the sort of weather that Benny Badger might have chosen for digging
holes. But he must have thought that he had dug enough holes for the
time being. He wandered about as if he had lost a hole somewhere and
couldn't find it. And whenever he spied a hole made by one of his
smaller neighbors he stopped and looked at it closely.
But none of them seemed to be the one he was looking for. At least,
Benny examined a good many holes, and then passed on again, before he
came to one at last that was different from all the rest. If you could
have seen the look of pleasure on Benny's odd face when he caught sight
of this particular hole you would have known at once that his search had
come to an end.
Now, as a matter of fact, Benny Badger had not lost a hole. His strange
behavior did not mean that. It meant that he was searching for a _fresh_
hole, which some ground squirrel had dug so short a time before that
there couldn't be much doubt that the small owner was then living in it.
[Illustration: Mr. Ground Squirrel Escapes from Benny.]
To be sure, Benny might have dug his way to the furthest end of each
hole that he found that night. And doubtless he would have enjoyed such
a pastime. But as for finding a plump ground squirrel at the end of
every tunnel--ah! that would have been a different matter. No such
pleasant sight would have greeted Benny's eyes. And on this evening he
wanted to find some such reward when his digging came to an end.
He knew as well as he knew anything in the world that newly scattered
earth never lay strewn about the doorway of an _old_ hole.
And that was the reason he passed by so many holes with hardly more than
a swift glance.
But when at length he found what he had been looking for--a hole with
fresh brown dirt scattered carelessly around it--Benny Badger showed by
every one of his actions that he didn't intend to move on until he had
burrowed to the very end of it.
A broad smile lighted up his queerly marked face. At least, he opened
his mouth and showed a good many of his teeth. And a bright, eager
glint came into his eyes; whereas they had had a somewhat wistful look
before, as if their owner might have been hungry, and didn't exactly
know where he was going to find a meal.
Then Benny Badger looked all around, to see whether anybody might be
watching him. But there was no one in sight. And if there had been,
Benny Badger would have done no more than tell him that he had better
run along about his business, because it would do him no good to
wait--none at all.
And if the onlooker had happened to come so near as to bother Benny in
what he intended to do, that unfortunate person might have wished that
he had taken a bit of friendly advice in time, and made himself scarce.
But, of course, Benny Badger was not so foolish as to give any such
warning, for there was no one there to hear it.
III
NO ONE AT HOME
Since there seemed to be nobody lurking in the shadows around him, and
watching him, Benny Badger turned to the ground squirrel's hole and
began to dig. How he did make the dirt fly! He scooped it up with his
big feet and flung it back in a shower, not caring in the least where it
fell. For he was interested not in what lay behind, but before him.
In almost less time than it takes to tell about it, Benny Badger had
made the entrance of the tunnel so big that it swallowed his head and
shoulders.
Now, when some people do anything they are forever stopping to see how
much they have finished, as if they hated to work and wished that they
didn't have to. But Benny Badger was not like them. He loved to dig. And
instead of wishing that it wasn't far to the ground squirrel's chamber
he kept hoping that it was a good, long tunnel, so that he might have
plenty of fun digging his way to the end of it.
_He_ didn't pause to look back at the pile of dirt he had thrown behind
him. In fact, he didn't stop for anything--not even to take a long
breath--until he noticed a sound that made him pause and listen for a
few moments.
It was a yapping, growling noise that caught Benny Badger's ear--a noise
that changed, while he listened, to a howl, and then suddenly ended as
it had begun.
That call, coming as it did out of the night, would have frightened
many people. Not knowing just what it was, they might have thought it
sounded like the cry of a wolf. But Benny Badger showed not the least
sign of fear. On the contrary, he seemed almost angry with himself
because he had stopped even for a few moments to listen.
"Oh, fudge!" he said--or something a good deal like that. "It's nothing
but a Coyote."
And then he went to digging faster than ever, to make up for lost time.
He hadn't been working long after that when Mr. Coyote's call made him
back out of the hole and listen once more.
"Shucks!" said Benny Badger--or something like that, anyhow. "He's
coming this way."
Anyone could have seen that Benny Badger was not pleased. But he
continued his work just the same. And he made the dirt fly even more
furiously than before, because he wanted to reach the end of the ground
squirrel's tunnel before Mr. Coyote arrived on the scene.
It happened that Mr. Coyote was stalking slowly across the country in
the moonlight, headed for no place in particular. So Benny Badger had
time to burrow his way to the ground squirrel's bedroom without being
interrupted.
And then Benny met with a sad disappointment. The owner of the burrow
was not at home! Benny knew that he could not have been gone long,
because the bed of dried grasses was still warm.
It was plain that Mr. Ground Squirrel had awakened and heard the sound
of Benny Badger's digging. And there was no doubt that he had sprung up
in a hurry and rushed out of his back door, while Benny made his way
through the front one.
Benny Badger tried to console himself with the thought that anyhow he
had had the fun of digging. But he was very hungry. And there was no
supper in sight anywhere.
He was just about to renew his search for fresh ground squirrels' holes,
when who should appear but Mr. Coyote himself, with a knowing smile upon
his narrow face.
IV
MR. COYOTE SINGS
Benny Badger was not at all glad to see Mr. Coyote. And after Benny's
ill luck, the smile upon Mr. Coyote's face made the disappointed digger
feel almost peevish.
"What a beautiful evening it is!" said Mr. Coyote. "And what a fine
night for digging!"
Benny Badger glared at the newcomer, making no attempt to hide his
displeasure at seeing him.
"I don't notice _you_ doing any digging," he remarked with a sneer. He
had no use for Mr. Coyote, and he did not mind letting that tricky
fellow know it, either.
But Mr. Coyote was not one to take a hint. If he knew he wasn't wanted
anywhere, it never made the slightest difference to him. And when Benny
as much as told him that he was _too lazy_ to dig a hole, Mr. Coyote did
not lose his temper even for a moment.
"No--I seldom dig," he replied. "I don't want to spoil your fun. If I
went to work and dug and dug anywhere and everywhere there'd soon be
nothing but holes, no matter where you went. You'd have no place to dig
a hole yourself. And then you'd be pretty unhappy."
Benny Badger hadn't thought of that. And he didn't know just what to
say, because if Mr. Coyote meant what he said, Benny wanted to say
something _pleasant_; and if Mr. Coyote was only joking, Benny wanted
to say something disagreeable. But before Benny had made up his mind how
to reply to Mr. Coyote's remark, his noisy friend began talking again.
"Besides," Mr. Coyote added, "I haven't time for digging, because I have
to practice singing. . . . If you don't mind, I'll practice a song right
now."
And without waiting to find out whether Benny Badger did mind or not,
Mr. Coyote began singing in the harshest of voices:
THE COYOTE'S SONG
When Mr. Sun has gone to bed to seek his needed rest,
And Mr. Moon has climbed the skies to flood the plains with light,
And Mrs. Wind blows softly from the foothills in the west,
I love to sing my _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_ in the night.
When morning comes I hurry home, to take my daily nap;
But when the spooky shadows fall and all the world is dark,
Oh! then's the time I'm wide awake and ready with a _yap_,
A happy, yappy _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_, and a bark.
And none that hears my lovely voice, when startled from a dream,
Will soon forget how I begin my chorus with a growl;
Nor how I quickly run the scale, to end it with a scream,
A happy, yappy _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_, and a howl.
Let them that do not know my ways cry fearfully for help,
And shake and shiver when they hear my loud and lusty call;
While I will merely jeer at them with something like a yelp,
A happy, yappy _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_, and a squall.
And now I will explain to you--perhaps you've guessed before
The lesson that I always strive with might and main to teach--
If you would frighten timid folk, alarm them with a roar,
A happy, yappy, _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_, and a screech.
"How do you like that?" Mr. Coyote asked with a grin, when he had
finished.
"Not very well!" said Benny Badger.
Mr. Coyote looked just the least bit crestfallen.
"Perhaps I haven't practiced the song as much as I should," he remarked.
And thereupon he started to sing it again.
But Benny Badger stopped him quickly.
"Don't!" he cried. And he held his paws, dirty as they were, over his
ears, as if he couldn't bear to hear that song another time.
Mr. Coyote smiled agreeably.
"I see," he said easily. "You don't enjoy music as I do. But I believe
we have one taste in common."
"What's that?" Benny Badger asked him; for in spite of his paws being
over his ears, he heard what Mr. Coyote said. "What's that?"
"Ground Squirrels!" Mr. Coyote replied, licking his chops as he spoke.
V
SPEAKING OF GROUND SQUIRRELS
Benny Badger stared none too pleasantly at Mr. Coyote. He didn't like
his visitor. And he wished Mr. Coyote would go away.
But Mr. Coyote seemed to be in no hurry to leave. On the contrary, he
appeared to have plenty of time to spare. And if he noticed the frown on
Benny Badger's face, he certainly acted as if it were the most agreeable
of smiles.
"We were speaking of Ground Squirrels----" he began with a smirk.
Benny Badger interrupted him quickly.
"We were not!" he snapped. "I haven't _mentioned_ Ground Squirrels," he
growled.
Mr. Coyote fell back a few steps.
"Well, I know you're _interested_ in them, anyhow," he continued, trying
to act as if he were quite unruffled by Benny's rudeness. "You can't
deny that, for unless I'm mistaken, you've just caught one here." And
his bright eyes twinkled, for he thought he "had" Benny Badger there,
and it would be of no use for Benny to deny it.
"You are mistaken," Benny Badger grunted.
At that Mr. Coyote shot a swift look at him. Was that a shadow of
disappointment about Benny's mouth?
"Did he get away from you?" Mr. Coyote inquired.
Benny Badger had to admit that that was exactly the case. He explained
how he had found the Ground Squirrel's bed warm, but empty, when he
reached the snug bedroom.
"I don't see how it happened," he told Mr. Coyote mournfully.
That crafty fellow gave a short laugh. He rather believed he knew where
the trouble lay. And he said to himself--under his breath--that Benny
Badger was even more stupid than he had supposed.
"Did you keep an eye on the Ground Squirrel's back door?" he inquired.
And he was so amused by something or other that he began to giggle.
Benny Badger was afraid that Mr. Coyote was going to burst into song
again. And he couldn't help shuddering.
"Are you going to sing?" he asked hastily.
"I hadn't intended to," Mr. Coyote answered. "But of course if you want
me to----"
"No! no!" Benny cried. "Please don't!"
"Very well!" his musical friend replied. And then he returned to his
question. "What about the back door? Did you watch it carefully?" he
inquired.
"How could I?" Benny demanded, with a snort of anger. "I can't dig away
at a Ground Squirrel's hole, with my head buried in it, and watch his
back door at the same time. If I stopped digging, and went around to the
back door, he'd be almost sure to run out through the front one. So I'd
be no better off. In fact, I'd be worse off; for I'd lose not only the
Ground Squirrel, but the fun of digging, too."
Mr. Coyote turned his head away and smiled a wide, wide smile. It was
some moments before he could trust himself to speak without laughing
right in Benny Badger's face.
"It's plain," he said at last, "that you need help. So I'm coming here
every night to assist you in the business of catching Ground
Squirrels."
VI
STRANGE PARTNERS
Mr. Coyote's plan for helping him catch Ground Squirrels did not please
Benny Badger in the least. Up to that time he had always had fair luck
hunting alone. And he said as much to Mr. Coyote, in none too friendly a
tone.
Though Benny thought he had made his feelings plain enough, it seemed as
if Mr. Coyote couldn't take a hint. So far was he from guessing that
Benny did not care for his scheme that he even suggested that it might
be a good idea if he brought a half dozen of his brothers along with
him. He was very cheerful about the whole affair--was Mr. Coyote.
Indeed, he appeared quite ready to arrange Benny Badger's business,
without ever a "By your leave," or "If you don't mind."
But Benny Badger was no person to stand quietly by and let a scamp like
Mr. Coyote spoil his whole life. He shook his head in a most obstinate
fashion, giving his visitor fair warning not to go too far.
"For goodness' sake, don't bring any of your brothers here!" Benny
Badger shouted. "I never could stand a crowd of your relations. It's bad
enough to have to listen to your six brothers when they're half a mile
away."
Mr. Coyote took no offence at that remark.
"Very well!" he replied. "No doubt they'd want to sing if they came here
to help you. And certainly their singing would interfere with your
digging--for of course you'd want to stop and listen to it."
Benny Badger's only comment sounded somewhat like "Humph!" But Mr.
Coyote must have thought that Benny agreed with him. At least, he nodded
his head. And he went on to say that he would be glad to help Benny
alone, without calling on his brothers.
Benny Badger made no further objection. To be sure, having one of the
Coyote family with him every night would be bad enough. But it was so
much better than having seven of them that he began to feel almost
pleased. Perhaps he was lucky, after all! And besides, he thought that
when Mr. Coyote came to help him catch Ground Squirrels that
good-for-nothing scamp would soon tire of digging.
And then a terrible uproar broke the silence. It sounded as if a
hundred wolves--or maybe a thousand dogs--had fallen to quarreling a
mile away, growling and howling in the distance.
As soon as he heard the noise Mr. Coyote pricked up his ears and sprang
to his feet. "I must leave you now," he said. "There are my six
brothers! They're going to have a sing. And I promised that I'd join
them. . . . Don't forget!" he added, as he flung a sly smile in Benny
Badger's direction. "I'll be here soon after dark to-morrow night."
And the next moment he was gone.
Benny Badger stood and watched him as he loped off across the moonlit
plain. And not long afterward a terrific racket--twice as loud as the
one before--made Benny bury his head in the place where he had been
digging.
"Mr. Coyote has joined his six brothers," he said to himself.
VII
MR. COYOTE REMEMBERS
The next evening, just at dusk, Benny Badger left his den and set forth
on his usual nightly ramble.
By way of exercise, and for the sake of the fun it gave him, and to
improve his appetite, he dug a few holes. And by the time it was dark he
was hungry as a bear and ready to look once more for fresh holes made by
Ground Squirrels.
He had decided not to wait for Mr. Coyote to join him, before beginning
his search. And he even hoped that Mr. Coyote had forgotten all about
his promise to meet him and help him hunt.
But Benny Badger was to have no such good fortune as that. It was not
long before he heard Mr. Coyote calling to him. And though he made no
answer, thinking that Mr. Coyote might not be able to find him, in a few
minutes that sharp-faced gentleman came bounding up at top speed.
"Here I am!" he cried, as soon as he spied Benny Badger. "I see you
started out without waiting for me. You didn't think I'd disappoint you,
did you?"
"I was afraid you wouldn't," Benny answered--a remark that Mr. Coyote
seemed not to understand. For a moment or two he looked somewhat
puzzled. But he decided, evidently, that Benny _meant_ to be pleasant,
but didn't know how to be.
"Now, then," Mr. Coyote said, while Benny Badger shuddered at his harsh
voice, "now then, where do you think we'd better look for a hole?"
"For pity's sake, don't howl so loud!" Benny Badger besought him.
"You'll waken all the Ground Squirrels in the neighborhood if you're so
noisy."
"Pardon me!" said Mr. Coyote very meekly, lowering his voice, but
promptly raising it again. "Do you know of any fresh holes around here?"
Benny Badger said that he didn't.
"Then you'd better hunt for one at once," Mr. Coyote declared, sitting
down on his haunches as if he hadn't the slightest notion of doing any
of the searching himself. "While you're looking, I'll sing a little
song," he announced.
"You needn't trouble yourself to do that," Benny Badger told him
hastily.
"Oh, it's no trouble at all, I assure you," Mr. Coyote replied.
"Well--don't you do it, anyhow," Benny warned him. "If you sing, you'll
spoil everything, because I shall not be able to look for any hole."
"I see," said Mr. Coyote, looking more than pleased. "You'd want to stop
and listen to me, of course."
"It's not that," Benny Badger corrected him. "I may as well tell you
that I don't like your songs at all."
"I have some that you've never heard," Mr. Coyote explained.
"I don't want to hear them," Benny Badger informed him. "I may as well
tell you that your songs drive me almost crazy."
It would not have been surprising if Mr. Coyote had flown into a great
rage. But he did not. Instead, he pretended to wipe a tear away from
each of his eyes. "It's a pity"--he sighed--"it's a pity that you don't
understand music. Some time I will teach you to sing--with the help of
my six brothers."
Benny Badger showed no joy over that promise. But he felt relieved when
Mr. Coyote agreed not to sing that night. And then Benny set out alone
to look for a fresh Ground Squirrel's hole, leaving Mr. Coyote with his
face hidden in his pocket-handkerchief.
VIII
A WATCHER AND A WORKER
Benny Badger searched for some time before he found a Ground Squirrel's
hole that looked as if its owner had finished it only a day or two
before.
The place was so far from the spot where Benny had left Mr. Coyote that
he did not believe he could call loudly enough for his helper to hear
him.
For a few moments Benny thought that perhaps he ought to go back and
tell Mr. Coyote that he had found a good place to dig. But he soon
changed his mind.
"I'll just begin digging and say nothing," he remarked to himself. "And
perhaps I can catch this Ground Squirrel without Mr. Coyote's help."
So he set to work. But he hadn't dug very far into the hole before he
heard Mr. Coyote's voice close behind him. That sly fellow had been
following him all the time.
"I hope the owner of this hole is at home," Mr. Coyote ventured.
At those words Benny Badger backed out of the hole and turned around.
"I'll let you dig a while," he said generously.
Mr. Coyote thanked him. But he answered that he couldn't think of
accepting Benny Badger's offer.
"I know you would be disappointed not to do the digging yourself," he
explained. "And besides, you're a better digger than I am. So I'll let
you tear this tunnel open, while I go around to the back door and
watch. . . . You know, I have a very sharp eye."
Benny Badger looked at Mr. Coyote narrowly. It occurred to him that
_both_ Mr. Coyote's eyes were very sharp. Furthermore, his nose was
sharp, too. And so were his teeth. Yes! on the whole, Benny thought, Mr.
Coyote appeared to be an exceedingly sharp person.
"Very well!" Benny told him at last. "I'll do the digging, gladly--for I
need the practice that it will give me. You see, I haven't dug more than
a half-dozen holes to-night."
Then he thrust his head into the opening he had already made. But before
he had begun to throw more dirt behind him he pulled his head out again
and called to his helper, who had moved a few steps away.
"If the Ground Squirrel comes out through his back door, please call me
at once!" he cried.
Mr. Coyote nodded his head over his shoulder and smiled.
"I will," he agreed. "And I'll ask you not to forget to dig hard,
because you know I'll be watching hard. And it wouldn't be fair for one
of us to do less work than the other."
Benny Badger replied that in his opinion Mr. Coyote's statement was in
every way reasonable.
And then he began to dig.
Benny would have made better time had he not stopped every few minutes
to listen; for he did not want to miss hearing Mr. Coyote's call.
But his ears caught nothing more than a chuckle from the spot where Mr.
Coyote sat on his haunches in the grass, watching.
[Illustration: Mr. Owl greets Benny very coldly.]
"I can stand his chuckling--if only he won't sing!" Benny said to
himself.
IX
A CARELESS HELPER
Stopping often to listen, Benny Badger did not reach the Ground
Squirrel's chamber half as quickly as he could have had he done nothing
but dig.
And when he thrust his nose into the underground bedroom he found nobody
at home. The Ground Squirrel had fled, leaving his nest so warm that
Benny Badger knew he could not have been gone long.
Benny turned away. But he was not so disappointed as he might have been,
for he remembered that Mr. Coyote was watching the back door. And
certainly no Ground Squirrel could escape his sharp eyes.
Hurrying as fast as his short legs would carry him, Benny joined Mr.
Coyote, who still sat comfortably on his haunches.
To Benny's surprise, his helper's eyes were closed, instead of being
fixed on the Ground Squirrel's back door.
"Have you seen anything of the Ground Squirrel?" Benny demanded
anxiously.
Mr. Coyote started, and opened his eyes.
"Somebody came out a few moments ago," he replied. "But he disappeared
in no time."
"That's too bad!" Benny Badger wailed. "He got away!"
"Are you sure?" Mr. Coyote inquired.
"Why, yes!" Benny cried. "It's as plain as the nose on your face."
"I won't dispute you," said Mr. Coyote.
"You'd better not!" Benny Badger snapped. "You have been very careless.
I don't believe you watched carefully enough. When I came up just now
you had your eyes shut."
"I won't dispute you," said Mr. Coyote again. He was most polite--so
polite, in fact, that Benny Badger was ashamed to appear rude or
quarrelsome.
But Benny couldn't help being disappointed over losing the Ground
Squirrel. And when, after he had dug to the end of three more tunnels
that night, the same accident happened three times more, he decided that
something would have to be done. It was clear that Mr. Coyote's eyes
were not sharp enough. He was not nearly so helpful as Benny had
expected him to be. "We'll have to change about," Benny announced at
last. "You must dig, while I watch."
But Mr. Coyote promptly made a number of objections to that plan. He
said, with something quite like a sneer, that he had much sharper eyes
than any member of the Badger family that ever lived, and that he was
quicker than a hundred Badgers put together. And as if he hadn't given
reasons enough for disagreeing with Benny, he declared that he simply
couldn't do any digging that night because he had a sore paw.
To prove his statement, Mr. Coyote held up one of his paws for Benny to
see.
Benny looked at it. He couldn't discover that it was any different from
Mr. Coyote's three remaining paws. And he had just started to say so,
too, when Mr. Coyote interrupted him with an enormous yawn.
"I'm getting sleepy," Mr. Coyote remarked. "It will be daylight before
we know it. And I'm going home to take a nap."
So saying, he sprang up and stretched himself. And then he trotted off.
But he stopped before he had gone far and looked back at Benny Badger.
"I'll be on hand to help you again after sunset," he said.
X
THE SORE PAW
Sure enough! Just as Mr. Coyote had promised, he was on hand the next
night to "help" Benny Badger catch Ground Squirrels.
Benny regarded Mr. Coyote somewhat coldly, as the two met in the
moonlight.
"How's your sore paw?" he asked Mr. Coyote.
Now, Mr. Coyote had just come trotting up without the least sign of
lameness. But all at once he began to limp.
"My poor paw's no better," he told Benny, as a look of pain crossed his
face.
"Let me see it!" Benny said.
And Mr. Coyote promptly held out one of his paws.
Benny Badger snorted. He seemed quite disgusted.
"This is not the same paw you showed me last night," he cried.
"My mistake!" said Mr. Coyote easily. And he pulled back that paw and
thrust forth another.
Benny Badger bent over it for a moment.
"It _looks_ all right," he grumbled.
"I can't help that," Mr. Coyote snarled. "It couldn't hurt me any more,
no matter what happened to it."
To Mr. Coyote's surprise, Benny Badger seized his paw in his powerful
jaws and held it in a viselike grip.
"Ouch!" Mr. Coyote wailed, pulling back quickly--a move which only
caused him greater pain.
"Your paw doesn't feel any worse, does it?" Benny Badger asked him as
well as he could, with his mouth so full.
"Yes, it does!" Mr. Coyote howled.
"Then you must have been mistaken when you said what you did only a
moment ago," Benny told him.
"I must have been," Mr. Coyote admitted. . . . "Let me go!" he begged.
But Benny Badger's jaws only closed the tighter.
"I'll bite you if you don't stop that!" Mr. Coyote threatened.
"My skin is very, very tough," Benny said. "And I can hurt you much more
than this if I want to."
Mr. Coyote believed what Benny told him. So he made no more threats, but
began to whine piteously.
"If you'll let me go I'll do anything you say," he promised.
"Will you agree to keep away from me?" Benny Badger asked him.
"Yes! Yes!" Mr. Coyote cried. "I promise!"
"Good!" said Benny Badger. "I don't need your 'help,' as you call it,
any longer. And if you ever come near me again when I'm hunting for
Ground Squirrels, I'll----"
Benny Badger never finished what he was saying, because he let go of Mr.
Coyote just then. And the moment Mr. Coyote felt himself free he leaped
away and tore off on three legs as if he were in a terrible hurry to get
somewhere else.
"Much help I'd ever get from him!" Benny Badger grumbled to himself.
"He's too lazy to dig. But he isn't too lazy to grab the Ground
Squirrels that somebody else drives out for him."
XI
BIRDS' EGGS
Though Benny Badger never cared much for foxes, he was willing, usually,
to stop and talk with one of that family--provided he wasn't too busy
digging to take the time for gossip.
There was one fox who often strolled about the neighborhood. And though
Benny had many a chat with this gentleman, somehow Benny never learned
much from him.
He was so sly that he let Benny do most of the talking, while he
listened. And when he did say anything, he preferred to ask questions.
In time Benny Badger noticed that his chats with Mr. Fox were very
one-sided. And he made up his mind at last that when he next met that
crafty fellow he would ask him plenty of questions. He would make him
talk, or he would know the reason why.
It happened that early on the following morning, when he was hunting for
Ground Squirrel's holes, he found himself face to face with Mr. Fox. And
Benny noticed that Mr. Fox was himself looking with great interest at a
fresh Ground Squirrel's hole. "Hullo!" Benny Badger exclaimed. "I hope
you haven't come here after Ground Squirrels."
Mr. Fox looked much surprised.
"No, indeed!" he said. "I'm only hunting for birds' eggs."
"Birds' eggs!" Benny Badger repeated. "Have you found any?"
Mr. Fox squirmed a bit. He did not like to answer questions.
"Have you found any eggs?" Benny asked him again.
"A few!" Mr. Fox replied.
"Where?" Benny inquired.
"Oh, in different places," said Mr. Fox. And he began to talk about the
weather--how dry it was, and how much the country needed rain.
But Benny Badger was not to be fooled so easily.
"You haven't really answered my question," Benny reminded Mr. Fox
bluntly. "I asked you where you've been finding birds' eggs. And I'll
thank you to tell me, sir."
Mr. Fox gave a slight start. Benny's tone was none too pleasant. And Mr.
Fox certainly didn't want to quarrel with him.
"If you wish to know anything about birds' eggs, why don't you ask a
Prairie Chicken?" he inquired. "She would know a great deal more about
eggs than I do."
To Benny, that suggestion seemed quite worth while. There was no doubt
that what Mr. Fox said was true. And Benny wondered why he hadn't
thought of the plan himself.
"Your advice," he told Mr. Fox, "is so good that I'm going to start
right now to look for a Prairie Chicken. It's almost dawn now. And the
Chickens will soon be getting up."
So Benny said good-by. And Mr. Fox tried to say good-by, too; but
somehow he choked over the words, and began to cough so violently that
Benny Badger was quite alarmed.
He waited anxiously until he saw that Mr. Fox was out of danger. And
then he left him.
If he had looked back he might have seen his sly friend capering about
in the gray light as if something amused him hugely. And no doubt Benny
would have wondered what it could have been.
"Prairie Chickens!" Mr. Fox was chuckling. "Much they'll tell _him_
about eggs!"
XII
THE PRAIRIE CHICKEN
After he left Mr. Fox, Benny Badger hurried here and there and
everywhere in search of a prairie chicken.
He found one, after a time. But the lady wouldn't stop to talk with him.
The moment she spied Benny she _whirred_ into the air and flew off,
though she certainly must have heard him calling to her.
But at last, just as red streaks began to shoot up in the eastern sky,
Benny caught sight of a stately dame who was so busy catching
grasshoppers for her breakfast that she hadn't noticed him.
He did not dare go too near her, for fear of scaring her. So he called
to her in as gentle a tone as he could, saying, "Don't be alarmed,
madam! I only want to ask you a question."
The prairie chicken stretched her neck as high as she was able, and
looked all around.
"Here I am!" Benny sang out from a grassy hummock.
The startled lady saw that he was not near enough to be dangerous. So
she asked him, with a proud air, what his question might be.
"I'm interested in birds' eggs," Benny explained. "Have you any, madam?"
The prairie chicken took a few steps towards him, in a very grand
manner.
"Yes, indeed!" she answered. "I have a baker's dozen! They are the most
beautiful eggs I've ever seen--though perhaps I shouldn't say so. . . .
They're speckled with brownish specks," she continued.
"How interesting!" Benny Badger exclaimed. "I must have a look at those
eggs. Where is your nest, madam?"
And just then the prairie chicken did a strange thing. Without a word of
warning she sprang into the air and sailed away, leaving Benny Badger to
gaze after her, and wonder why she hadn't answered his question.
He soon made up his mind that he would find her nest, anyhow.
Now, since there wasn't a tree anywhere in the neighborhood, Benny felt
quite sure that the lady's nest must be on the ground. And since he knew
that all prairie chickens slept at night, he waited until dark before he
began his search, for he wanted to find Mrs. Prairie Chicken at home
when he called on her.
So when night came once more, Benny Badger left his den and went forth
on his errand.
He had gone only a short distance when he met his old friend Mr. Fox,
who had told him a little--and very little, too--about eggs. "Are you
having any luck to-night?" Benny Badger inquired.
"What do you mean?" Mr. Fox asked him.
"Have you found any eggs?" Benny questioned.
Mr. Fox said something that might have been either "Yes" or "No." Benny
was not quite sure which it was. But since Mr. Fox shook his head, he
decided that it must be "No."
"I think we're too late," Mr. Fox remarked. "The eggs must have all
hatched by this time."
Benny Badger hastened to set Mr. Fox right.
"That can't be possible," he replied. "I met Mrs. Prairie Chicken this
morning and she told me she had a baker's dozen of eggs in her nest."
"You must be mistaken about that," Mr. Fox assured him. "Where did you
say her nest is?"
"I didn't say," Benny answered.
"No, of course not!" Mr. Fox corrected himself. "What I meant was, where
did Mrs. Prairie Chicken say it is?"
"She didn't say," replied Benny Badger.
"That's unfortunate," Mr. Fox told him. "It would have saved us a good
deal of trouble if she had explained where she lives."
Then he told Benny Badger to go home, and not to trouble himself any
more. "_I_ will hunt for the old lady's nest," Mr. Fox declared.
Benny Badger couldn't help thinking that Mr. Fox was a very kind person.
And he went away feeling that it was very fine to have a friend like
him.
But after a while he began to wonder if he wasn't mistaken; for he
happened to remember that Mr. Fox hadn't said a single word about
letting him know when he had found the nest with the thirteen eggs in
it.
XIII
DON'T DO THAT!
Benny Badger turned in his tracks and went straight back to the place
where he had left Mr. Fox.
But Mr. Fox was nowhere to be seen.
So Benny began asking everybody he met if he had caught a glimpse of Mr.
Fox that night. First he asked a white-footed deer mouse, who pointed
behind him and said that he had just seen Mr. Fox "over there." Then
Benny put his question to a frightened prairie dog, who claimed that he
had noticed Mr. Fox "over there," as he pointed in a direction exactly
opposite. And still another reported that he had noticed Mr. Fox in an
entirely different place.
"That's odd!" Benny Badger said to himself. "How can he be in three
places at once?" And since he could not answer that question, he decided
to look in none of those three directions, but to try a fourth, because
he felt sure that none of the three could be the right one. And besides,
if Mr. Fox had really been where he was said to have been seen, he was
such a roving fellow that he would have moved on.
Well, where he looked next, Benny found Mr. Fox.
"What luck?" Benny asked that wily gentleman once more.
Mr. Fox replied somewhat stiffly that he had nothing to say.
"What's that on your mouth?" Benny Badger demanded suddenly.
Mr. Fox hastily rubbed his paw across his mouth.
"It can't be egg," he blurted.
"_Egg!_" Benny Badger shouted. "I hadn't mentioned _egg_! But now that
_you_ mention _egg_, perhaps that's it."
Mr. Fox looked most ill at ease. But he made no reply.
"What's that clinging to your shoulder?" asked Benny Badger abruptly.
"It can't be a feather," said Mr. Fox, nervously brushing off his
shoulder as he spoke.
"A feather!" Benny Badger exclaimed. "I've said nothing about a
_feather_! But now that you speak of it, Mr. Fox, perhaps that's it."
Mr. Fox looked very, very uncomfortable. And he murmured something about
"having to be on his way."
"Wait a moment!" said Benny, as Mr. Fox turned aside. "What's that on
the back of your neck?"
Mr. Fox tried in vain to look at the back of his own neck.
"It can't be----" he began.
But before he could finish, Benny Badger interrupted him.
"Yes, it is!" he cried. "It's my teeth!"
And so saying, he seized Mr. Fox on the back of his neck and began to
drag him over the grass.
It became clear, at once, that Mr. Fox did not enjoy the sport.
"Don't do that, friend!" he begged. "What are you trying to do, anyhow?"
"I'm trying to rub the egg off your mouth," Benny Badger explained.
"Please don't trouble yourself," said Mr. Fox.
Then Benny began to shake him.
"Don't do that, friend!" said Mr. Fox again. "What are you trying to
do?"
"I'm only trying to shake the feather off you," Benny told him.
"Don't trouble yourself," said Mr. Fox. "If you'll take those teeth off
my neck, that's all I'll ask of you."
"Not yet!" Benny Badger replied grimly. "You're a robber. And I'm going
to teach you a lesson. . . . You _will_ rob birds' nests, will you?"
To his great surprise, Mr. Fox began to laugh.
"Why, you'd rob them yourself if you weren't so clumsy!" he cried.
"You're really no better than I am."
Benny Badger hadn't thought of that. And the idea surprised him so much
that his mouth fell open. And of course Mr. Fox at once leaped aside and
ran off.
XIV
A QUEER DISCOVERY
No one would ever have called Benny Badger a great traveller. He was
altogether too heavy to roam far from home upon his short legs. So it
often happened that he did not know all that went on in the
neighborhood.
Of course, his watchful eyes took in almost everything that was in sight
of his den. But as for what was taking place just beyond the next rise,
that was an entirely different matter. Unless somebody chanced to stop
and gossip with Benny, sometimes several days would pass before he knew
what his neighbors were doing.
Luckily, Benny Badger kept his ears open, when he was awake.
And often he kept them half-open when he lay half-asleep, stretched out
in the grass not too far from his den, enjoying a sun-bath.
One day when he was sunning himself the sound of voices snatched him out
of his drowsiness. And he kept quite still, to see what he could see,
and hear what he could hear.
Soon three coyotes came sneaking through the grass, talking in hushed
voices--a thing they seldom did. Benny could hardly believe his own
ears, because he had supposed that if the coyote family spoke at all,
they always howled.
But if the quietness of the coyotes surprised Benny, what they said
astonished him a great deal more. For Benny Badger learned that the
three cronies were headed for a prairie dog village just beyond the
next rise.
That was most amazing news. Benny Badger hadn't known that there was a
prairie dog village so near his den. And for a moment he was tempted to
call to the coyotes and ask them if what they said was really true or if
they were only fooling.
But he didn't think the three prowlers had seen him. So there seemed to
be no reason for their saying what wasn't so.
Well, the moment they disappeared, Benny Badger jumped up and hurried
into his den. He would have followed the coyotes, but he decided it
would be better to wait. The prairie dogs would be too wary, with those
coyotes in their village.
But later, after the coyotes had left--ah! then he would pay a visit to
the village himself.
Towards evening Benny Badger crept out of his den and followed the trail
of the three coyotes. And sure enough! when he reached the top of the
rise he saw the mounds of the prairie dogs spread out before him.
Though he saw no prairie dogs, he noticed an owl sitting upon a heap of
earth that had been tossed out around a hole.
Benny Badger strolled up to the owl.
"It's a fine evening!" said Benny.
The owl merely stared at him, round-eyed, and made no reply.
"I say, it's a fine evening!" Benny repeated in a louder tone.
"Very well!" the owl replied. "You may say it as often as you wish. I'm
sure I have no objection. . . . But you don't need to come any nearer,"
he added.
Benny Badger stopped and squatted in the grass. He was glad to rest, for
he was--as has been said--no great traveller.
"Is anybody at home?" he asked presently.
"Somebody is," said the owl.
"Then I'll dig right in as soon as I get my breath," said Benny Badger,
glancing at the hole.
"Do you want to see somebody?" the owl asked. "For if you do, there's no
need of your doing any digging here."
"Why not?" Benny inquired.
"I'm somebody," the owl informed him. "I live here; and I'll be
disgusted if you go to tearing my house to pieces."
XV
BENNY AND THE OWL
Benny Badger smiled at the owl. He thought he must be fooling.
"You're a joker, aren't you?" said Benny. "But I never should have
thought it--you look so glum."
The owl seemed somewhat displeased.
"I've never made a joke yet," he declared, "though I've no doubt I
could, if I should ever want to."
Benny Badger glanced from the owl to the hole, and then back again at
the strange fellow.
"You don't mean to say you live here, in this hole?" Benny exclaimed.
[Illustration: Benny Seized Mr. Coyote's Paw.]
"Certainly; I do," the owl replied sharply.
Benny Badger couldn't understand how that could be.
"But this is a prairie dog house," he protested. . . . "Where's the
chap that built it? He must be around here somewhere."
"I don't know where he is, and I don't care where he is," the owl
answered. "I drove him out of this house because I wanted to live here
myself. And I didn't trouble myself to see where he went."
Benny Badger could hardly believe what the owl told him. But he noticed
that the fellow had a sharp beak, and sharp claws too.
"I should think you played a joke on the prairie dog," he remarked at
last.
"Should you?" said the owl. "If it _was_ a joke, it wasn't nearly as
big a one as I'll play on anybody that tries to drive _me_ away from
here. . . . I drove a snake away yesterday," he added. And he looked
very thoughtfully at Benny Badger, as if he were picking out a soft
place in which to sink his cruel beak.
"You needn't be so touchy," said Benny. "I'm not going to disturb you.
I'm sure I shouldn't care to live in your house."
The owl was a peppery fellow. He grew angry at once.
"Why not?" he demanded. "What's the matter with my house?"
"I'll tell you," Benny replied. "It's a second-hand one. And that's bad
enough. But it would be still worse if I took it away from you, because
then it would be third-hand."
The owl looked daggers at him.
"You've insulted me!" he cried loudly, swelling himself up--or so it
seemed.
"Have I?" Benny Badger inquired. "Don't mention it! I'm sure you're
quite welcome." To tell the truth, he had not the least idea what the
owl meant.
Naturally, Benny's words only made the owl angrier than ever. And he
became actually rude.
"If I were you," he spluttered, "until I learned better manners I would
dig a hole somewhere, crawl inside it, and pull it in after me."
Now, that was a new idea--for Benny Badger. And he liked it.
"What fun that would be!" he exclaimed. "Then when I wanted to go out
I'd have to dig my way again!"
The owl gave a queer cry. And looking quite discouraged, he flew off and
left Benny Badger sitting there in the grass.
XVI
SPOILING A GAME
Though the owl left him in such a rude fashion, Benny Badger wasted no
time in thinking about what had just happened. There was something far
more worth while that claimed his thoughts. For the prairie dog village
still remained where it had been. And as Benny looked at it he found it
highly interesting.
Even as he glanced at the doorway of the nearest house he caught sight
of a small head with bulging eyes, which stared at him without blinking.
Benny moved nearer. And the head promptly vanished.
Then Benny Badger smiled all over his face.
"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Here's somebody else at home!" And he looked all
around at a number of other doorways. To his great delight he saw other
eyes peeping at him.
"There's a lot of 'em at home!" Benny cried with great glee.