see, have not. The hole is in the ground beside them, and the hill is
in front, made by the earth taken out of the burrow, just as you have
seen it at the entrance of a rat's hole. They are marmots, I have no
doubt, but of a different species from the prairie-dog marmots."
"Are there not many kinds of marmots in America? I have heard so," said
Francois.
This question was of course addressed to Lucien.
"Yes," answered he. "The _fauna_ of North America is peculiarly rich in
species of these singular animals. There are thirteen kinds of them,
well-known to naturalists; and there are even some varieties in these
thirteen kinds that might almost be considered distinct species. I have
no doubt, moreover, there are yet other species which have not been
described. Perhaps, altogether, there are not less than twenty
different kinds of marmots in North America. As only one or two species
are found in the settled territories of the United States, it was
supposed, until lately, that there were no others. Latterly the
naturalists of North America have been very active in their researches,
and no genus of animals has rewarded them so well as the marmots--
unless, perhaps, it may be the squirrels. Almost every year a new
species of one or the other of these has been found--mostly inhabiting
the vast wilderness territories that lie between the Mississippi and the
Pacific Ocean.
"As regards the marmots, the _closet-naturalists_, as usual, have
rendered their history as complicated and difficult to be understood as
possible. They have divided them into several genera, because one kind
happens to have a larger tubercle upon its tooth than another, or a
little more curving in its claws, or a shorter tail. It is true that in
the thirteen species some differ considerably from the others in size,
colour, and other respects. Yet, for all that, there is such an
identity, if I may so express it, about the mode of life, the food, the
appearance, and habits of all the thirteen, that I think it is both
absurd and ill-judged to render the study of them more difficult, by
thus dividing them into so many genera. They are all _marmots_, that is
what they are; and why confound the study of them by calling them
spermophiles and arctomys, and such-like hard names?"
"I quite agree with you, Luce," said the hunter, Basil, who, although
not averse to the study of natural history (all hunters, I believe, love
it more or less), had no
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