“Well, Peter,” said Old
Mother Nature, “did you visit Digger the Badger
yesterday?”
“Yes’m,” replied
Peter, “I visited him, but I didn’t find
out much. He’s a regular old grouch.
He isn’t the least bit neighborly. It
took me a long time to find him. He has more
holes than anybody I ever knew, and I couldn’t
tell which one is his home. When I did find
him, he gave me a terrible scare. I didn’t
see him until I was right on top of him, and if I
hadn’t jumped, and jumped quickly, I guess I
wouldn’t be here this morning. He was lying
flat down in the grass and he was so very flat that
I just didn’t see him. When I told him
that I wanted to know all about him and his ways, he
replied that it was none of my business how he lived
or what he did, and that was all I could get out of
him.
“I sat around awhile and watched
him, but he didn’t do much except take a sun
bath. He certainly is a queer-looking fellow
to be a member of the Weasel family. There’s
nothing about him that looks like a Weasel, that I
could see. Of course, he isn’t as broad
as he is long, but he looks almost that when he is
lying flat down and that long hair of his is spread
out on both sides. He really has a handsome
coat when you come to look at it. It is silvery
gray and silky looking. It seems to be parted
right down the middle of his back. His tail
is rather short, but stout and hairy. His head
and face are really handsome. His cheeks, chin
and a broad stripe from his nose right straight back
over his head are white. On each cheek is a
bar of black. The back part of each ear is black,
and so are his feet. He has rather a sharp nose.
Somehow when he is walking he makes me think of a
little, flattened-out Bear with very short legs.
And such claws as he has on his front feet!
I don’t know any one with such big strong claws
for his size. I guess that must be because he
is such a digger.”
“That’s a very good guess,
Peter,” said Old Mother Nature. “Has
any one here ever seen him dig?”
“I did once,” replied
Peter. “I happened to be over near where
he lives when Farmer Brown’s boy came along
and surprised Digger some distance from one of his
holes. Digger didn’t try to get to one
of those holes; he simply began to dig. My gracious,
how the sand did fly! He was out of sight in
the ground before Farmer Brown’s boy could get
to him. Johnny Chuck is pretty good at digging,
but he simply isn’t in the same class with Digger
the Badger. No one is that I know of, unless
it is Miner the Mole. I guess this is all I
know about him, excepting that he is a great fighter.
Once I saw him whip a dog almost twice his size.
I never heard such hissing and snarling and growling.
He wouldn’t tell me anything about how he lives.”
“Very good, Peter, very good,”
replied Old Mother Nature, “That’s as
much as I expected you would be able to find out.
Digger is a queer fellow. His home is on the
great plains and in the flat, open country of the
Middle West and Far West, where Gophers and Ground
Squirrels and Prairie Dogs live. They furnish
him with the greater part of his food. All of
them are good diggers, but they don’t stand
any chance when he sets out to dig them out.
“Digger spends most of his time
under ground during daylight, seldom coming out except
for a sun bath. But as soon as jolly, round,
red Mr. Sun goes to bed for the night, Digger appears
and travels about in search of a dinner. His
legs are so short and he is so stout and heavy that
he is slow and rather clumsy, but he makes up for that
by his ability to dig. He doesn’t expect
to catch any one on the surface, unless he happens
to surprise a Meadow Mouse within jumping distance.
He goes hunting for the holes of Ground Squirrels and
other burrowers, and when he finds one promptly digs.
He eats Grasshoppers, Beetles and small Snakes, as
well as such small animals as he catches. It
was well for you, Peter, that you jumped when you did,
for I suspect that Digger would have enjoyed a Rabbit
dinner.
“Very little is known of Digger’s
family life, but he is a good husband. In winter
he sleeps as Johnny Chuck does, coming out soon after
the snow disappears in the spring. Of all my
little people, none has greater courage. When
he is cornered he will fight as long as there is a
breath of life in him. His skin is very tough
and he is further protected by his long hair.
His teeth are sharp and strong and he can always
give a good account of himself in a fight. He
is afraid of no one of his own size.
“Man hunts him for his fur,
but man is very stupid in many things and this is
an example. You see, Digger is worth a great
deal more alive than dead, because of the great number
of destructive Rodents he kills. The only thing
that can be brought against him is the number of holes
he digs. Mr. and Mrs. Digger have two to five
babies late in the spring or early in the summer.
They are born under ground in a nest of grass.
As you may guess just by looking at Digger, he is
very strong. If he once gets well into the ground,
a strong man pulling on his tail cannot budge him.
As Peter has pointed out, he isn’t at all sociable.
Mr. and Mrs. Digger are quite satisfied to live by
themselves and be left alone. So he is rarely
seen in daytime, but probably is out oftener than
is supposed. Peter has told how he nearly stepped
on Digger before seeing him. It is Digger’s
wise habit to lie perfectly still until he is sure
he has been seen, so people often pass him without
seeing him at all, or if they see him they take him
for a stone.
“While Digger the Badger is
a lover of the open country and doesn’t like
the Green Forest at all he has a cousin who is found
only in the Green Forest and usually very deep in
the Green Forest at that. This is Glutton the
Wolverine, the largest and ugliest member of the family.
None of you have seen him, because he lives almost
wholly in the great forests of the North. He
hasn’t a single friend that I know of, but that
doesn’t trouble him in the least.
“Glutton has several names.
He is called ‘Carcajou’ in the Far North,
and out in the Far West is often called ‘Skunkbear.’
The latter name probably is given him because in
shape and color he looks a good deal as though he
might be half Skunk and half Bear. He is about
three feet long with a tail six inches long, and is
thickset and heavy. His legs are short and very
stout. His hair, including that on the tail,
is long and shaggy. It is blackish-brown, becoming
grayish on the upper part of his head and cheeks.
His feet are black. When he walks he puts his
feet flat on the ground as a Bear does.
“Being so short of leg and heavy
of body, he is slow in his movements. But what
he lacks in this respect he makes up in strength and
cunning. You think Reddy Fox and Old Man Coyote
are smart, but neither begins to be as smart as Glutton
the Wolverine. He is a great traveler, and in
the Far North where the greater part of the fur of
the world is trapped, he is a pest to the trappers.
He will follow a trapper all day long, keeping just
out of sight. No matter how carefully a trapper
hides a trap, Glutton will find it and steal the bait
without getting caught. Sometimes he even tears
up the traps and takes them off and hides them in
the woods. If he comes on a trap in which some
other animal has been caught, he will eat the animal.
His strength is so great that often he will tear
his way into the cabins of hunters while they are
absent and then eat or destroy all their food.
His appetite is tremendous, and it is because of
this that he is called Glutton. What he cannot
eat or take away, he covers with filth so that no
other animal will touch it. He is of ugly disposition
and is hated alike by the animals and by man.
His fur is of considerable value, but he is hunted
more for the purpose of getting rid of him than for
his fur. Sometimes when caught in a trap he will
pick it up and carry it for miles.
“Mrs. Glutton has two or three
babies in the spring. They live in a cave, but
if a cave cannot be found, they use a hole in the
ground which Mrs. Glutton digs. It is usually
well hidden and seldom has been found by man.
Glutton will eat any kind of flesh and seems not
to care whether it be freshly killed or so old that
it is decayed. The only way that hunters can
protect their supplies is by covering them with great
logs. Even then Glutton will often tear the logs
apart to get at the supplies. Because of his
great cunning, the Indians think he is possessed of
an evil spirit.
“I think this will do for to-day.
To-morrow we will take up another branch of the family,
some members of which all of you know. I wonder
if it wouldn’t be a good plan to have Shadow
the Weasel here.”
Such a look of dismay as swept over
the faces of all those little people, with the exception
of Jimmy Skunk and Prickly Porky! “If—
if—if you please, I don’t think I’ll
come to-morrow morning,” said Danny Meadow Mouse.
“I—I—I
think I shall be too busy at home and will have to
miss that lesson,” said Striped Chipmunk.
Old Mother Nature smiled. “Don’t
worry, little folks,” said she. “You
ought to know that if I had Shadow here I wouldn’t
let him hurt one of you. But I am afraid if
he were here you would pay no attention to me, so
I promise you that Shadow will not be anywhere near.”