would have wished it. And he was just taking off his coat, and trying to
decide where he would begin to dig, when something happened that made
him look very peevish. And he slipped his coat on again, and lay flat in
the grass.
A coyote had come bounding up at exactly the wrong time! And every one
of the prairie dogs promptly pulled his head out of sight.
If he noticed Benny at all, the coyote must have thought him no more
than a heap of dirt. Anyhow, he paid no heed to Benny, but went stalking
through the village with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, looking
sharply out of the corners of his eyes at the houses he passed.
There is no denying that Benny Badger was displeased. He wanted no
sneaking coyote at hand to spoil his plans. And he was all ready to
growl, when something made him change his mind and close his mouth.
The coyote walked through the village and disappeared in the distance.
And here and there heads soon began to appear in doorways.
But when Benny Badger stood up and drew nearer to them, they dropped
down again.
The next moment a very angry lady rushed up and began scolding Benny
Badger at the top of her voice. It was Mrs. Coyote. "Go away from this
village!" she shrieked. "You're spoiling our hunting!"
"Whose hunting?" Benny Badger asked her.
"Mine and my husband's!" she snapped. "That was my husband that passed
by here a few minutes ago. Of course we know the Prairie Dogs will all
hide when they see him. But they're so silly that they're sure to bob up
and stare at him after he has gone along. And then"--she said--"then's
the time I dash up and grab them."
Mrs. Coyote paused and glared at Benny Badger. "You've spoiled my game,"
she said. "You went and showed yourself. And when they saw you, the
Prairie Dogs hid again."
Benny Badger looked at Mrs. Coyote pleasantly enough.
"Why don't you dig for them?" he asked.
But Mrs. Coyote didn't appear to care for that idea in the least. She
threatened Benny Badger with dreadful things, if he didn't leave at
once. And then she hurried on to find her husband.
Benny Badger was glad to see her go. He was not at all afraid either of
Mr. or Mrs. Coyote--nor of both of them together. And though he had
spoiled their game, he hardly thought that they would be able to spoil
his.
XVII
THE PRAIRIE DOG VILLAGE
Having once found his way to the prairie dog village, Benny Badger often
visited it.
And it is said, by those who know, that while he was there he always had
a much pleasanter time than the villagers themselves.
So little did the prairie dogs enjoy Benny Badger's society that
whenever one of them spied Benny nearing the settlement he never failed
to jerk his tail up and down and call out the news.
At the sound of the alarm--a high-pitched chatter--every prairie dog
who wasn't at home scurried for his hole as fast as he could scamper.
Benny Badger always had to smile when he saw the villagers tumbling
through their doorways. They couldn't have done anything that would have
suited him better. Had there been a single one among the prairie dogs
that wasn't a dunce he would have run _away_ from his hole, outside the
village, to hide somewhere until Benny Badger left the place.
But the prairie dogs were too stupid to think of such a trick. They knew
no better than to rush into their houses--which was exactly what Benny
Badger wanted them to do.
And if anything happened now and then to make matters specially
unpleasant for the prairie dogs, it never troubled Benny Badger. He
seemed to grow fatter and happier than ever as time passed.
But at last he heard a bit of news one day that made him feel quite
glum.
A young deer mouse claimed to have overheard a rancher talking--the
rancher that lived about a mile from Benny Badger's home. And the deer
mouse reported that the man was going to get rid of the whole prairie
dog family. "He says they eat too much grass, and dig too many holes,"
the deer mouse declared.
Though the news upset Benny, and quite took away his appetite, for a few
moments, he began to cast about for a way to prevent such a sad affair.
If you could have seen him with a worried look on his face, anxiously
asking everybody he met to give him advice, you would have thought that
he felt very, very sorry for the prairie dogs.
But such was not the case at all. Benny Badger was feeling sorry for
himself; for he knew that if the rancher drove the villagers away he
would miss them terribly. Benny had almost given up hope of finding a
way to put an end to the rancher's plan when the deer mouse told him
another bit of news.
"He's going to build a new fence out this way--the rancher is!" the deer
mouse informed Benny. "It's coming this side of the Prairie Dog village.
And that's why the rancher wants to get rid of the Prairie Dogs."
"How do you know this?" Benny Badger asked his small friend. "Have you
been eavesdropping again?"
The deer mouse blushed. And since he made no reply, Benny Badger had to
believe him.
Still, Benny could see no way out of his difficulty. And he went home at
day-break feeling quite out of sorts.
But when he awoke, right in the middle of the day, a happy thought
popped into his head.
He was so excited by it that he couldn't go to sleep again, though the
sun was shining brightly.
XVIII
SAVING THE DAY
Benny Badger kept his bright idea to himself. But his neighbors knew
that he must have thought of something, because he seemed so
good-natured all at once.
"He has a secret," they told one another. But they couldn't find out
what it was. Though they asked Benny Badger point blank what he intended
to do, he refused to tell them. He only smiled, and looked very wise.
And indeed he felt just as wise as he looked.
For a time a good many of his friends spied upon him. Hidden behind
whatever was handy, they watched Benny Badger.
But they soon grew tired of that. So far as they could see, he did
nothing but dig holes. And certainly that was nothing new for him. So
his friends went about their own affairs, leaving Benny to dig as many
holes as he pleased.
Now, it pleased him to dig more holes, and bigger holes, than he had
ever dug before. And he dug them all on the _other_ side of the prairie
dog village--on the side toward the rancher's home.
Benny seemed to have no fixed plan as to _how_ he should dig the
holes--whether in a straight row, or in a circle, or any other way. His
one idea seemed to be to dig a plenty--to dig as many as anybody could
possibly want for any purpose whatsoever.
Now and then some passer-by would stop and look at Benny for a few
minutes, and snicker.
"Are you looking for buried gold?" Mr. Coyote asked him.
"What's the matter--have you been digging so fast that you can't stop?"
Mr. Fox inquired.
Even the prairie dogs--timid as they were--ventured to jeer at Benny
Badger and demanded whether he had gone crazy. But Benny Badger never
paused to answer anybody. He smiled a good deal, however, as if he knew
something that nobody else suspected.
Every morning at dawn he went home to rest. And every evening at sunset
he returned to the same place, just beyond the prairie dog village, to
take up his work where he had left it.
The only remark Benny would make when anyone insisted on talking with
him was that he couldn't waste his time gossiping, because _he had to
save the day_.
That seemed a strange statement. No one knew exactly what Benny Badger
meant by it. To be sure, he saved each day for sleeping--for he worked
only at night. But it was just as true that he saved each night for
working. So it was only natural that people should be puzzled.
To everybody's surprise, Benny stopped his work as suddenly as he had
begun it. Exactly at midnight he paused, brushed the dirt off himself,
and slipped into his coat, remarking that he thought he "had saved the
day."
With a hungry look on his face he turned toward the prairie dog village.
And there was a great scurrying then.
"You ought to thank me!" Benny Badger called to the prairie dogs as they
dived into their holes. "I've saved the day! The rancher certainly won't
try to get rid of you now."
XIX
PLEASANT PRAISE
Not one of the prairie dogs knew what Benny Badger meant when he cried
that he "had saved the day."
Of course, they had heard that the rancher did not like their village,
and that he wanted to get rid of it--and them. But they couldn't imagine
how Benny Badger might be able to help them. Indeed, they rather liked
the rancher better than Benny, anyhow. And as for thanking Benny, the
only time they would ever feel like thanking him would be when he bade
them good-by and left the neighborhood, to return no more.
But Benny Badger was quite unaware of all that. He complained that the
prairie dogs weren't treating him well.
"They ought to send a committee to my house to thank me for what I've
done for them," he grumbled. "No one around here seems to understand me.
But the rancher certainly will. You'll see before long that he'll be
after me, to tell me what _he_ thinks of me."
For several days afterward Benny lost a good deal of sleep by staying
outside his house while watching for the rancher to appear. And little
by little, from things he said now and then, his neighbors learned his
secret.
They discovered that Benny Badger had been digging holes for the posts
of the new fence that the rancher was going to build!
"When he finds those holes already made, he won't be so foolish as to
dig others," Benny explained.
"But you've gone and dug them on the wrong side of the Prairie Dog
village!" somebody objected.
"Of course I have!" Benny retorted. "I did that on purpose. Don't you
understand that when the rancher finds the holes he'll use them where
they are? You don't suppose--do you?--that he'll be so silly as to move
the holes?"
The objector--a somewhat youthful coyote--slunk away with a foolish
simper. He saw that Benny Badger knew what he was talking about.
"Since the Prairie Dogs' village will lie _outside_ the new fence, the
rancher won't pay any more attention to it," Benny Badger said stoutly.
"From this time on, the Prairie Dogs are quite safe--so far as the
rancher is concerned. . . . And that's how I have saved the day."
Benny Badger's secret was out at last. And as fast as people learned it
they stopped to tell him that they had known all the time that he had a
fine plan of some sort, and that if there was anything they could do to
help him they would be greatly obliged if he would "count on them."
Of course the work was all done. But perhaps Benny's neighbors hadn't
stopped to think of that. Anyhow he had never known them to be so
pleasant before. And he quite enjoyed their praise; for everyone told
him that nobody had ever suspected that he was so clever.
It was lucky that Benny took the time when he did to listen to his
neighbors' pleasant speeches. Unfortunately they soon came to a sudden
end.
XX
THE RANCHER IS ANGRY
Benny Badger lay motionless, with his long hair parted along the middle
of his back and flowing off his sides in such a fashion that a careless
passer-by would not have noticed that it was anything more than dry
grass.
For several days Benny had been watching for the rancher. And now, at
last, he saw him coming, riding on a horse over the rolling plain.
There was another man with the rancher. And as soon as Benny caught the
murmur of their voices he made ready to hear many pleasant remarks about
himself. He was only waiting until the riders should discover the holes
he had dug near the prairie dog village.
Nearer and nearer came the men. And Benny Badger crouched lower and
lower.
They had passed him, and ridden a bit nearer the village, when the
rancher suddenly pulled his horse to a stand.
"Ah!" Benny Badger exclaimed under his breath. "He sees the new
post-holes that I've dug for him. And how pleased he'll be!"
It was true that the rancher had just noticed the holes for the first
time. The moment he saw them he gave a great roar.
"A badger!" he shouted. "We'll have to trap him. I can't have him
tearing my ranch up like this. These holes are the finest things in the
world to break a critter's leg in."
Benny Badger could scarcely believe what his own ears told him. He
thought there must be a mistake somewhere. And when the rancher declared
that the badger that dug those holes was worse than a whole village of
prairie dogs, Benny was tempted, for one wild moment, to dash up to the
men and tell them exactly what he thought.
But he remembered, in time, what the rancher had just said about
trapping him. And he never stirred until the two riders had moved along.
When they had ridden beyond the next rise Benny Badger made a rush for
his hole. And there he stayed all the rest of that day.
He didn't quite know what to do. And a little later he felt more
uncomfortable than ever when the rancher began to build his new fence
around the prairie dog village, without using a single one of the
post-holes that Benny had dug for him.
All Benny's neighbors noticed what was happening. And they no longer
told Benny what a clever fellow he was. On the contrary, they laughed
slyly, and said things to one another whenever Benny Badger came near
them.
When he growled at them they always pretended to be surprised to see
him, and asked him if he had "dug any post-holes lately."
But Benny Badger never answered that question. Every time he heard it he
felt like moving away from the neighborhood. And when he came home early
one morning and found a _trap_ right in his doorway he made up his mind
then and there that matters had gone far enough.
He turned away. And without stopping to tell anybody what he intended to
do, or where he was going--without even saying good-by--he stole away
across the plains to hunt for a new home.
XXI
THE NEW HOME
When Benny Badger went wandering off to find a safer and pleasanter
neighborhood in which to make a new home for himself, he had no idea at
all as to where he should go. He only knew that he wanted to get a good,
long distance away from the place where he had been living.
Wherever he decided to settle, it must be some spot where the ungrateful
rancher wouldn't be likely to find him, and set a trap in his doorway
again.
On and on Benny travelled, until at last he met a spry young chap--one
of the deer mouse family--who stopped still and stared at Benny as if
he would like to speak to him, but didn't quite dare to.
"Hullo!" said Benny Badger. "Do you live around here?"
The deer mouse answered politely with a nod, as if he would like to
talk, if he weren't too shy.
"Do you find this an agreeable neighborhood?" Benny Badger inquired.
"Very!" the deer mouse replied in a thin, piping voice.
"Is there plenty of good water nearby?" Benny asked him.
"Yes, indeed!" the deer mouse exclaimed. "There's a water-hole right
over there!" And he pointed over his shoulder, without taking his eyes
off Benny Badger. He knew it was safer to keep a close watch of
strangers.
Benny sat down. He had journeyed a long way and he was tired.
"I'll go and have a drink as soon as I'm rested," he said. "I'm glad
there's good water here. This seems to be a pleasant place. . . . Are
there any good Gophers and Prairie Dogs in the neighborhood?"
"Oh, yes!" the deer mouse answered. "But you needn't worry about them.
They won't harm you if you mind your own affairs. I've lived here a long
time; and they haven't touched me."
"What about Owls?" Benny Badger wanted to know.
The deer mouse looked solemn all at once.
"There are a few," he admitted. "If you're thinking of settling here,
you'll have to watch sharp for them. I've had several narrow escapes."
Benny Badger smiled.
"I'd like to see the Owl that could hurt me!" he cried. "And as for
Gophers and Prairie Dogs, _I like them_. . . . This is the very place
I've been looking for. And as soon as I have rested a little longer and
had a drink of that good water I'm going to dig myself a den right where
I'm sitting now."
The deer mouse pricked up his long ears at that. To the best of his
belief, no badger had ever lived in the neighborhood before. And if the
stranger was going to dig a hole, he intended to watch him while he
worked.
"If you feel rested enough now, I'll show you the way to the
water-hole," the deer mouse said presently. He was impatient for the fun
to begin.
Benny Badger stood up.
"Lead on!" he commanded. "I'll follow." And then he yawned--for it was
already long past his usual bedtime.
The deer mouse trembled slightly as he looked into Benny's great mouth.
And he took care to keep well ahead of the stranger all the way to the
water-hole, and back again, too. But he soon forgot his fear when Benny
Badger began to dig the new den. The dirt flew in such showers as the
deer mouse had never seen in all his life--except during a cyclone.
Benny had begun to dig--as he said he should--in the exact spot where he
had sat and rested. But for one reason or another he soon changed his
mind, and started to dig a different hole a short distance from the
first one.
Soon he moved again. And after he had begun no less than five holes,
only to leave each one unfinished, the deer mouse interrupted him with a
sharp cry.
"Stop! Stop!" he begged Benny. "Please don't do that!"
Benny Badger paused and stared at him in amazement.
"What is it?" he asked. "What's the matter?"
The deer mouse was all a-flutter.
"Goodness me!" he exclaimed. "You'll have the whole neighborhood dug up
if you're not careful!"
XXII
A BREAKFAST INVITATION
For a moment or two Benny Badger looked at the deer mouse without saying
a word. He told himself that here was a country person who couldn't ever
have travelled much, or he would have known better than to make such a
remark. . . . Spoil the whole neighborhood indeed! . . . Benny's lip
twisted up in something like a sneer.
"Don't you worry!" he snorted. "I don't believe you ever saw a
first-class digger before. I'm not going to spoil the neighborhood. I'm
_improving_ it. I'm making a fine house here--probably the finest there
is for miles around."
The deer mouse appeared ashamed. Of course he didn't like to seem
stupid.
"But why do you dig in so many places?" he faltered.
"That's my way," Benny Badger told him. "As soon as I get one den well
started I think I'd rather live somewhere else. But I don't mind
beginning again because there's no better exercise than digging."
"No doubt!" the deer mouse agreed. "But I'm sure it would be much too
violent for me."
He said no more, but looked on with a puzzled air until at last Benny
Badger had actually dug in one place long enough to make a deep den.
When it was quite finished Benny Badger brushed the dirt off himself and
turned to Mr. Deer Mouse.
"Come inside and see if my new house isn't the finest one you ever
saw!" he said.
For some reason Mr. Deer Mouse did not seem eager to enter. To be sure,
he thanked Benny for the invitation, but he backed away a few steps and
said that he thought he'd better not look at the new house that morning.
"I--I haven't the time to spare," he mumbled.
Benny Badger couldn't understand that remark. The white-footed gentleman
had had plenty of time to spend while watching him dig the den. And
Benny said as much, too.
"That's exactly the point," said the deer mouse. "I've spent so much
time already that I've used it all up."
Well, Benny Badger couldn't understand that either.
"Used up all the time!" he cried scornfully. "Isn't there plenty more
where the other time came from?"
"Oh, to be sure--to be sure!" said the deer mouse, who seemed ready to
agree to anything--except to Benny's invitation. "But there is another
reason why I mustn't visit your new home this morning: I'm hungry. I
haven't had my breakfast yet."
Suddenly Benny Badger remembered that he was hungry himself.
And as he stared at plump Mr. Deer Mouse a certain idea came into his
head. And he looked Mr. Deer up and down before he spoke.
"I haven't had my breakfast either," he said at last. "I'm ready for a
good meal. Come right in and join me!"
But something made Mr. Deer Mouse say, "No, thank you!" _Joining a
badger at breakfast!_ Somehow that had a dangerous sound.
XXIII
MR. DEER MOUSE IS TIMID
Benny Badger began to lose patience with the deer mouse. He was one of
the most timid persons Benny had ever seen. And Benny was on the point
of telling him that he hadn't even the courage of a prairie dog.
But suddenly a new idea flashed into his head. He thought he knew what
was troubling Mr. Deer Mouse.
"When I asked you to join me at breakfast I didn't mean what you thought
I did," Benny announced. "You thought--didn't you?--that I meant to
breakfast on _you_."
Mr. Deer Mouse admitted faintly that he had had some such notion.
"How ridiculous!" Benny Badger cried. "Why, you're so quick that I could
chase you all day--and all night, too--without catching you. You're too
spry for me. So we might as well put such an idea out of our minds."
Benny Badger sighed as he spoke. And he couldn't help noticing, once
more, how very, very plump Mr. Deer Mouse was.
"What I meant by your joining me at a good meal was simply this," he
continued: "If you'll only stay with me, and follow me quietly wherever
I go, there's a good chance that you'll have a bone to gnaw before a
great while."
All that seemed very pleasant to the deer mouse.
"Thank you ever so much!" he murmured. "I'll be glad to accept your
invitation, so long as we aren't going to breakfast inside your new
home."
So they set out. And for a time Mr. Deer Mouse followed Benny Badger all
around the neighborhood.
Though Benny kept a sharp watch on all sides, he couldn't see
anything--or anybody--that promised a meal. And he decided at last that
he would have to make a change of some sort in his plans.
So he sat down and beckoned to Mr. Deer Mouse to move nearer.
"You go ahead of me, and I'll follow you," he said. "You're smaller than
I am, and perhaps you won't frighten the game the way I do."
Mr. Deer Mouse did not seem to care for the suggestion.
"You might make a mistake," he objected. "If I went ahead of you, you
might think that I was the game. And there might be a terrible
accident."
Benny Badger sniffed.
"Nonsense!" he cried. "If I did make such a mistake, I promise you that
I wouldn't let it happen more than once."
But the deer mouse proved to be a stubborn chap. He declined flatly to
do as Benny wanted.
"Very well!" said Benny Badger gruffly. "I'm sorry that you don't care
to make things as pleasant as possible for a newcomer. Where I used to
live, people couldn't do enough for me."
"I believe you," Mr. Deer Mouse retorted. "In fact, I've heard that a
man even set a trap for you, right in your own doorway."
Of course, that news came to Benny Badger as a great surprise. He had
had no idea that Mr. Deer Mouse knew anything about him.
"Somebody has been gossiping!" Benny Badger growled angrily. "Who told
you that?"
"Goodness me! Everybody has heard about it," Mr. Deer Mouse replied.
"Don't you know that news travels fast over the plains?"
"Does it travel as fast as I do?" Benny Badger asked him suddenly.
Before the words were out of his mouth he leaped at Mr. Deer Mouse. And
for one as heavy as he was, Benny leaped with surprising swiftness.
But quick as he was, he was too slow to catch Mr. Deer Mouse napping.
That nimble fellow seemed to melt away right beneath Benny Badger's
paws.
For one moment Benny was sure he had him. And the next moment he was
sure he hadn't.
He couldn't see his small neighbor anywhere. In fact, it was a whole
week before Benny Badger set his eyes on him again. And to Benny's
amazement, Mr. Deer Mouse was just as polite as ever. He asked Benny how
he liked his new home, and if he had found the people in the
neighborhood as pleasant as he had expected.
"My house is a fine one," Benny told him. "And I dare say the
neighborhood is as good as I could expect. Certainly there's a plenty of
Gophers and Prairie Dogs here."
"I suppose"--said Mr. Deer Mouse--"I suppose some of them join you at
breakfast every morning."
Benny Badger looked at him sharply. He was all ready to get angry. But
Mr. Deer Mouse was so polite, and seemed so respectful, that Benny was
ashamed to lose his temper.
He actually winked at Mr. Deer Mouse. And he felt more cheerful than he
had since the rancher spoke ill of him.
"I'm glad I moved," he told Mr. Deer Mouse. "This is a fine place. I'm
going to live here the rest of my life."
And he did.
THE END
SLEEPY-TIME TALES
(Trademark Registered.)
By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
AUTHOR OF THE TUCK-ME-IN TALES and SLUMBER-TOWN TALES
=Colored Wrapper and Text Illustrations Drawn by HARRY L. SMITH=
This series of animal stories for children from three to eight years,
tells of the adventures of the four-footed creatures of our American
woods and fields in an amusing way, which delights small two-footed
human beings.