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.