Skunny Wundy Tricks Old Fox

In the dim long ago, before red people came to the world, there was a great forest and a mighty river. In this forest were mountains, and in the mountains were mysterious caves, deep and dark.

Here lived great tribes of fur folk, feather folk, thick swarms of bugs and many clans of hippety-hoppers.

In those days all the forest creatures could talk to one another in the same language, but they couldn’t sing together at all. Once they tried it, but each had his own tune and there was such a miserable din that Old Man Thunderer made a big rainstorm, and so while it rained he did some tall singing himself.

Nobody liked to have Old Man Thunderer roar out his rumbly song, and so after that all the animals and birds and creepy-crawlers made up their minds to sing songs all by their lonely selves. So that’s how that happened, and now comes the real story, nephew.

In the first place there was a clever fellow named Fox. Of course he knew he was clever, which was bad enough, for everybody knew it too——to his sorrow. In the second place, Fox was given to bragging most dreadfully. He was fond of sitting on a mossy hummock and sunning himself while he talked to himself and anyone else who would listen.

“Oh, you, all of you everywhere,” he would begin, “look at me and notice my handsome ways. Listen to me and learn how clever I am. Oh how, clever am I! I can catch any creature whose name I know, but never a creature catches me, hi ho!”

In those days, as everyone knows, to be a skilled hunter was the aim of every creature in the big forest, and the better the hunter the greater was his fame.

Fox was a great hunter, and this didn’t set well in the minds of the furry folk or the feather folk. After all, who likes to get caught and eaten up? Maybe you, nephew, but not I.

Fine was the day and warm was the sun when Fox sat on a log beside the river. His fur was fluffy and red, his tail was fluffy and long. He was highly satisfied with himself, as foxes have been ever since.

Again he started his boast, “I can catch any creature whose name I know, but never a creature catches me, hi ho!

“Who have you caught, I’d like to know?” Said a voice.

Fox looked around in a startled way, for his ears had not detected anyone near.

“Who’s talking?” snuffed Fox, blinking his eyes.

“Better-Guess—he’s talking,” Said the voice.

Fox looks sharply and saw a stranger. Who could he be?

“Greeting, Stranger,” said Fox with an assumptions of merriment.

“Greeting, Fox,” Said Better-Guess.

“What are you doing here?” Inquired Fox, with a wrinkle in his brow.

“Better guess”, answered Better-Guess. “That’s my name.”

“‘Tisn’t your real name, though,” challenged Fox. “What’s your real name?”

“Better-Guess,” came the reply. “Now it’s my turn to ask questions.”

“I might not answer,” said Fox, a bit sulkily.

“I think you will,” smiled the stranger, who looked mighty clever himself, with his long legs and shaggy head. “For instance what have you caught?”

“Everything,” answered Fox. “Me?” inquired Better-Guess.

“Well, you’re nobody, and I don’t know your name. So how could I ever catch you?”

“If I tell you my real name could you catch me?” asked Better-Guess.

“Course I could,” laughed Fox. “Go on and tell me for the fun of it, hi ho!” And Fox smiled as he drew his eyes to slits.

“Well, my name is——I suppose you know since you are a clever fellow, hi ho! My name is—why, as I said before, it’s Better-Guess.”

“So it’s Better-Guess, it is?” said Fox, lifting up his nose. “Hmm, hmm! Well I will guess, and if I do guess right, what will you give me?”

“All the stories in the world.” “That’s fine,” replied Fox, “because my real name isn’t Fox, you know. Of course you could never guess what my real name is.”

“If I do guess,’ answered Better-Guess, “what will you give me?”

“Same thing,” answered Fox. “All the stories in the world, hi ho!”

“I’m ready to have you guess,” said Better-Guess. “Four guesses, now.”

“Is it Joeagah Waah?” asked Fox.

“No, not Just-like-Raccoon,” replied Better-Guess.

“Is it Hum-Stinger?”

“No, not Hornet.”

“Is it Whoo—whee?”

“No, not Wind Boy.”

“Is it Ga-rhoom?”

“No, not Bullfrog.”

“Is it——?”

“You have had your four guesses,” said Better-

Guess. “You’ve lost.”

“No, do not say that,” snarled Fox. “If you guess my name, then you can say I’ve lost. Come now, guess mine. Remember, four guesses!”

“Is it Silly Braggart?” asked Better-Guess.

“No,” growled Fox.

“Is it Turkey-Roost-Robber?”

“No,” growled Fox.

“Is it Swagger Tail?”

“No,” growled Fox.

“Is it Non-gwat-gwa?”

“How’d you know that?” snarled Fox.

Continued next week