his yelping bark, which
resembles the cry of a young domestic dog.
He is a good-looking but rather curious little animal. He has a round,
flat head, and garish-red fur, and a stout little body. He makes an
affectionate pet, and loves the society of human beings. When he decides
to start a town, he usually succeeds, for he is an exceedingly prolific
animal, and his extensive burrows seem to have no ends. They are rather
large, and run to great depths. In the western part of the United
States, especially on the big prairies, the prairie-dog towns often
cover large areas. They are usually dug in a sloping direction, and
descend four to six feet in depth, and then suddenly rise upward again.
Hundreds of these little tunnels are dug in such close proximity to each
other that it is quite unsafe for cattle and horses to pass over them.
This is the chief reason why ranchmen do not like the otherwise harmless
little animals of the prairies.
These dog towns are most curious, and a visit to one of them well repays
the traveller. Strangely enough, the prairie-dog is exceedingly
inquisitive and this very quality often costs the little animal his
life. Mr. Wood, in describing the prairie-dog's habits, says that this
wise little Westerner, when perched on the hillocks which we have
already described, is able to survey a wide extent of territory and as
soon as he sees a visitor, he gives a loud yelp of alarm, and dives into
his burrow, his tiny feet knocking together with a ludicrous flourish as
he disappears. In every direction similar scenes are enacted. The
warning cry has been heard, and immediately every dog within a hundred
yards repeats the cry and leaps into his burrow. Their curiosity,
however, cannot be suppressed, and no sooner have they vanished from
sight than their heads are seen protruding from their burrows. Sometimes
hundreds of them will be peeping from their homes at one time, their
beautiful eyes sparkling as they cautiously watch the enemy's every
movement.
The prairie-dog is truly a tenement dweller, and his home is occupied
not only by his own kind, but by owls and rattlesnakes. Most naturalists
believe that these incongruous families live in perfect harmony; but it
is a well-known fact that the snake occasionally devours the young
prairie-dogs, and he must be considered by them as an intruder who
procured board and lodging without their consent. The owls, on the other
hand, are supposed to do no harm, alt
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