Chapter 2

"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.

"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.

"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.