may be
sitting on the mound in the family group. But when the vizcachas appear
in the spring, the fox begins to become interested in the nursery and as
soon as the older animals are away he devours the young. Occasionally,
if the fox is hungry, or if he has another friend to aid him, he will
hunt the vizcachera from end to end, battling with the old, and usually
killing all the young. It often happens that the mother vizcacha, when
her babes are large enough to follow her, will take them away to another
place that is safer.

The language of these city-builders is most unusual; the males
frequently utter the most varied and astonishing cries. They are jarring
in the extreme, and are produced in the most leisurely manner, growing
louder and louder and finally ending with a slow quaver. At other times,
they grunt like small pigs. Hudson says that any quick noise, like the
report of a gun, produces a most startling effect among these little
animals. As soon as the report is broken on the stillness of the night a
perfect furore of cries issues forth from every direction. In a few
seconds it ceases for a momentary lull, and then suddenly breaks forth
again, louder than before. The tones of the different ones are so
different that the cries of nearby individuals may be plainly
distinguished amidst the babel of voices coming from the distance. It
sounds as if thousands upon thousands of them were striving to express
every emotion with their tiny tenor voices. No words can describe the
effect that these sounds produce. One of the most peculiar calls is the
special alarm-note, which is sharp, sudden, and shrill. It is reported
from one to another until every vizcacha is safe in his burrow.

But with all the kind and sociable qualities of these little animals,
they have characteristics which seem rather paradoxical, and chief among
these is their resentment of any intrusion of neighbours into their
burrows. Although a number of individuals may reside in adjoining
compartments in the same burrow, yet if one enters a burrow not his
own--woe is he! Even when pursued by fierce dogs a vizcacha will rarely
enter a room of another. If he does, he is immediately pounced upon by
the angry owner, and is usually driven clear out of the burrow. These
animals are undoubtedly far the most versatile and intelligent rodents
in the world.

A most unusual miner and underground dweller is the pocket gopher of
North and Central America. He is a ra