The Tale of Benny Badger — Themes and Context

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

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!"

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."