fuel, and would generally bring home large bundles of wood upon
such of the horses as were not carrying game.
The children's greatest delight was when the camp happened to be pitched
near a prairie-dog town, and they were never weary of watching the
antics of these funny little creatures. Some of these towns were of
considerable extent, the ground within their circle being quite bare of
herbage from their scratching, and the constant scampering of their
little feet, and covered thickly with the mounds which marked the
entrances to the innumerable holes. The prairie-dogs themselves were
about the size of rabbits, but seemed to Frank, from their quick,
jerking motions, and their habit of sitting up on their hind-legs, to
resemble squirrels more than any other animal. They were as much
interested in the travellers as the latter were with them, almost every
mound having its occupant sitting up watching them inquisitively. There
were four or five dogs with the caravan, and until the novelty had
passed off, and they became convinced of the utter futility of the
chase, the dogs exhausted themselves in their endeavours to capture the
prairie-dogs. These seemed to feel an absolute enjoyment in exasperating
the dogs, sitting immovable until the latter were within a few yards of
them, and then suddenly disappearing like a flash of lightning down
their holes, popping their heads out again and resuming their position
on the tops as soon as the dogs had dashed off in another direction.
But the prairie-dogs were not the only occupants of the towns; with
them, apparently on terms of great friendship, lived a colony of little
owls, sharing their abodes, and sitting with them on their hillocks.
There were also a third species of inhabitant, and the presence of these
caused strict orders to be given to the children not to wander over the
ground; these were rattlesnakes, of which, on a sunny afternoon, many
could be seen basking on the sand-heaps.
"Yes, you always find the three together," Abe said, in answer to
Frank's question, "and how such contrary things get to be friends is
more nor I can tell. Sartin they must eat each other, there ain't
anything else for 'em to eat. The prairie-dogs air a puzzle; you never
see 'em any distance beyond thar towns, and yet they must live on grass
and roots. The owls, no doubt, live on little prairie-dogs, and the
rattlesnakes may sometimes eat an old one. Still, there it is; they
never seem afra
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