There are jazz standards — songs from the thirties and forties — about baskets, and stories about girls like Little Red Riding Hood who traipsed through the forest primeval to deliver a basket of goodies to her grandmother, who evidently strongly resembled a wolf, so much so that the girl had some difficulty identifying the creature in the bed before her as a wolf.
In stories like that, hunters always come along just at the nick of time, a la Peter & the Wolf. Of course, in real life, that doesn’t happen all too often, but once in a while, a basket does play into the picture.