THE NAUTILUS. 135 



The hill-side is covered, though not thickly, with low brush and 

 scattered bunch-grass. The earth is of disintegrated calcareous 

 shale. Under the clumps of bushes was a sprinkling of dead leaves 

 matted down by the winter's snows. Here were snails by the hun- 

 dred. It was a populous city of slow-feet all out on parade. There 

 had been light showers during the afternoon. The ground was very 

 damp, but not muddy. Everywhere the snails were erect, and as 

 the eye became accustomed to their appearance when in motion 

 their numbers seemed to greatly increase. I soon had over a pint 

 of live specimens enough, it would seem to satisfy anyone that 

 there is one place at least in Colorado where lack of numbers and 

 difficulty of access cannot be pleaded as an excuse for not knowing 

 more of the habits of this creature. Two days after the above find 

 I returned to the snail city in company with Mr. Underwood, prin- 

 cipal of the local high school. Neither he nor his instructors knew 

 of the existence of the live snails so near town. It was about five 

 o'clock in the afternoon. The weather had cleared up and the hill- 

 side was comparatively dry. I had been enthusiastic in telling of 

 the number of snails to be found, so was not a little surprised in not 

 finding immediate verification of my story. Indeed, very few were 

 to be found. I went from clump to clump of bushes, each time dis- 

 appointed, for, where two days before there were hundreds, now none 

 could be seen. Then I began a closer search. Snail habits were 

 unknown to me, but their ability to hide so effectively was about the 

 last thing thought of. We soon began to find them under sticks, 

 roots, bunch-grass and stones, and in the small crevices of the loose 

 earth. None of them had migrated. Under one protecting stick a 

 dozen or more were found. Soon we had nearly a pint of shells, 

 each full of life. It was then easy to understand why they had not 

 been discovered. Human pedestrians do not choose drizzly days for 

 their strolls, while such weather is the snail's delight. But in dry 

 weather they very effectually hide themselves. It is easy to find the 

 bleached, white, empty houses of the dead, while in life the snails 

 are so nearly the color of the ground that they easily escape notice. 

 In fact, it would be hard for the untrained eye to see them even 

 when exposed to view. This I appreciated more fully after I had 

 placed about a dozen of them on the ground near the rear wall of my 

 home. The ground was dry and the snails were soon practically out 

 of sight. I have been speaking of them in hundreds, but after a 



