"A priest," he said, "for knowing
and having good eating."
The two sat silent a few moments waiting for Fleetfoot, who did not
come, and then Humphrey continued: "The badger hath a thick skin. He
goeth into a wasp's nest or a bees' nest, and the whole swarm may sting
him and he feeleth it not."
"What doth the badger in wasps' nests and bees' nests?" inquired Hugo.
"Why, he will eat up their grubs. The eggs make footless grubs, and
these the badger eateth. My grandsire went a journey through this wood
once on a moonlight night. He rode slowly along, and at a certain place
was a bees' nest beside the path, and there, full in the moonlight, was
a badger rooting out the nest. Out swarmed the bees, and several did
sting the horse of my grandsire at the moment when he had taken good
aim at the badger with his stick. The horse bolted, and my grandsire
found himself lying in the path with his neck all but broken, and the
bees taking vengeance on him for the trespass of the badger. He hath
had no liking to bees or badgers since that day."
"He still liveth, then?" asked Hugo.
"Ay," returned Humphrey, much pleased at the question.
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