I had a sneaking suspicion, and I alerted my buddies.
“One of us is going to see a badger today,” I said. “If you see it first, pick up this rifle and shoot it. If I see it, I’m going to shoot it.”
I patted my old .204 Ruger for emphasis and left it on the bench with the bolt open and a box of cartridges next to it.
We spent the next few hours shooting sage rats, and after the sun had tipped toward the West, I saw the top of a badger’s head emerge from a hole. The badger looked around and ducked back down quickly, but I marked the spot and guessed it at a hundred yards.
“I’m going to shoot that badger,” I announced, “Unless one of you wants
