ON THE HABITS OF THE POUCHED RAT, OR SALAMAN- 

 DER, (GEOMYS PINETI,) OF GEORGIA. 



BY WM. GESNER, M. D., OF COLUMBUS, GA. 



On the 29th of last March, with my friend, Mr. L. C. Allen, and 

 our negro man, we moved our camp into the piny woods, among the 

 salamander hills, in Russel county, Alabama, about seven miles from 

 Columbus. We expected at this time to find the salamanders breed- 

 ing, and went prepared with spades, hoes, &c, for the purpose of 

 digging them out. 



Having found a pair at work on an eligible spot for digging, we 

 commenced on their trail at the newest mound, and followed their hole, 

 which pursued a course along the line of junction between the soil and 

 subsoil, where the roots abound most, at an average depth from the 

 surface of twelve inches, for a distance of twenty yards. The mounds 

 along this subterranean chamber were at intervals of about three feet, 

 with little variation, and angling as was the chamber thus. The passage 

 leading to each old mound was plugged 

 up perfectly solid, and so were they 

 all, except the newest one, in which 

 the animals were working just be- 

 fore they were attacked, and which chamber and mounds, 

 was at the time quite small. 



At the distance of twenty yards, the gallery forked in two directions ; 

 one followed a chain of mounds up and along the brow of the hillock. 

 These mounds were old, and the average distance apart. The other 

 took the direction toward a large pine, around whose roots the mounds 

 were thick and in clusters, from which we inferred deep digging and 

 their nest. 



We followed the hole, which widens and narrows in its course to- 

 wards the pine, as if for turnouts ; reaching the pine the hole took a spiral 

 direction downwards to the depth of five feet, and rose again spirally 

 to three, where we found an oblong cavity scooped out, of the capacity 

 of a peck measure or more, filled with very fine dry grass, and yet 

 warm in the two impressions, which were similar to those in a squirrel's 

 nest, where the animals had been in it, no doubt, while we were coming 

 upon them. They had left, however, and there were no young ones. 



A little way from the nest was another cavity, of the capacity of a 

 pint measure, partly filled with roots of the wild potato and nuts of 

 the pig grass. A hole about eighteen inches deep, still further on, 



