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.[33]

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[34] 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.[35]

"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[36] 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.