of all moving
multitudes suggest that this was not their usual formation on the march,
and their roads prove that they moved on a narrow front or in file. On
the North American prairie, though the bison are extinct, their great
roads still remain as evidence of their former habits. These trails are
paths worn on the prairie, nearly all running due north and south (the
line of the old migration of the herds), like gigantic rabbit tracks.
They are hard, the grass on them is green and short, and, if followed,
they generally lead near water, to which a diverging track runs from the
highway.

How interesting must have been the life on this great animal highway,
before the Indian made the deadly arrow to destroy these nature-loving
travellers! There is no doubt but that, in their own way, these animals
felt all the emotions known to a human traveller; that they enjoyed the
flowery road, rested and played when weary, looked forward with joy to
their favourite watering and bathing places, and recognised old watering
places that they had visited for years.

The great roads and highways made by graminivorous animals, from those
which the hippopotamus cuts through the mammoth canes and reeds of the
African streams, to the smaller rabbit highways of England and America,
all tell their own story of how these animals live and travel. The
principal roads of rabbits over hills are as permanent as sheep and
buffalo roads. These roads, however, should not be confused with the
little trails that lead to their play and feeding grounds.

My friend and fellow-naturalist, Ralph Stuart Murray, in writing to me
from Quebec, says: "In speaking of animal road builders, I might say
that the rabbit or hare of the north woods deserves much attention, for
greatly interesting are his highways. The life of the north woods brings
one constantly in touch with these roads, which, after generations upon
generations of constant use, are worn deep and smooth into the moose
grass and muskeg through which they run. At places, several distinct
paths intersect, and it is curious to note that while these roads wind
in and out underneath the low hanging evergreens, the 'cross-roads' will
invariably be located in a clear open space, often on the top of some
small hillock.

"The great age of these roads is very evident when compared with the
newer, shallower paths of more recent years. So deep are the old ones,
in fact, that the quiet watcher in the woods will o