How Fox and Raccoon Tricked One Another

…continued from last week

Oh, how he did fight those hornets! He slew hundreds of them after they had stung him, but none before.

Raccoon roared and chattered and scolded and cried like a puppy with a pinched tail. Oh, how he did cry, but then who could help it when a thousand hornets had revenged themselves by sticking in their hot needles?

Weeping and wailing, Raccoon staggered down to the swamp, where he buried himself in the black mud, the best pain plaster in the world. But the stings hurt terribly, especially since Raccoon could hear Fox laughing himself sick over his plight. Oh how mad this made Raccoon!

After a while, Fox began to wonder about his treasure and to think how he might eat it and become an unseen hunter of ducks. He looked at the yellow thing and rolled it over on the ground. It was queer shaped for a pawpaw, but then maybe magic pawpaws did look queer. He opened his mouth and grabbed the yellow thing. He gave a crushing bite, so eager was he, and then began to chew. He stiffened all over!

Something had happened! With a long, sharp yelp Fox began to caper. Horror of horrors! He had bitten into a fireball, the most peppery of all forest roots. His tongue burned, his throat burned, and his whole mouth was afire with blistering pain. Down to the swamp he ran to lap up mud to cool his fiery agony.

“Yep, yep,” he barked. “If ever catch that mean, wicked Joeagah, I will eat him alive!”

Raccoon, from his safe hiding place, stuck out one ear. With mighty satisfaction he listened to the howling of Fox and then to his whimpering when his mouth was full of mud. The agony of Fox was cooling medicine to Raccoon. How he did enjoy his revenge. It served Fox right!

After a time Raccoon slipped out of the muck and sought refuge in a treetop, for he well knew that Fox would soon be at his underground cabin door.

Up and up climbed Raccoon until he found a bed in an old hawk’s nest. Here he slept, and many times as he snoozed he laughed at the thought of Fox’s suffering.

Little did he know that Fox, in the heat of rage, waited below with his mouth open over the underground door.

When Raccoon had finished his nap, he rubbed his eyes and started down the tree. He wanted a few fat grubs before he went to bed again. But just as he reached the ground, Fox spied him and gave a great leap. But Raccoon was agile and ran back to the tree and scampered up to a big branch, where he peered down at Fox.

“You cheated me, you black faced ring-around-his-tail!” yelped Fox!”

“You cheated me, you red shirted can’t-climb-a-tree,” scolded Raccoon.

“I’ll eat you if I catch you,” yelped Fox.

“Yes, if you ever catch me,” scolded Raccoon.

“But no longer do I live in a hole in the ground like you. I live in a tree. Come on up!”

And so, my nephew, the two fought back and forth until Raccoon grew sleepy and Fox grew hungry and slunk away after more partridges.

Since that day the two have never been friends, and Fox hates fireball as much as Raccoon hates hum-houses that grow on trees. So the old folk say, and this is all they said. Na ho!