342 WESTERN GRAZING GROUNDS AND FOREST RANGES 



ging. Moreover, hole after hole has been dug out with 

 great care, and as a usual thing they seldom go down 

 into the ground beyond four feet and some of them not 

 more than two and a half. The dogs show considerable 

 ingenuity or instinct, however, in the digging of their 

 holes. Almost all of them are so constructed that the 

 nest in which the young are born is some higher than 

 the lowest place in the tunnel leading down to it; that is, 

 the dogs dig down for some distance and, turning the 

 tunnel up a little, probably a foot, the bore is widened 

 out into a little room or chamber where the nest is lo- 

 cated. If this is done for anything at all it is done to 

 give the water that naturally runs down into the holes a 

 chance to settle and not drown them out. 



Another piece of work which is creditable to their in- 

 stinct is the banking up of their mounds after a heavy 

 rain. No sooner has a rain ceased than the whole village 

 is at work chattering and barking like a lot of children 

 at play. With their noses and front paws they roll up 

 little balls of wet earth, pushing them ahead up the 

 mound. Using their noses for trowels much as a beaver 

 does his tail, they skillfully plaster the wet earth about 

 the entrance so as to raise the walls and repair any 

 damage done by the storm. When the mud has dried 

 the print of their little noses and feet where they have 

 patted it into shape and molded it together is plainly 

 seen. Any one who has lived in a Mexican village will 

 recall seeing the old women and boys at this very same 

 sort of work after a rainstorm. Like the dogs, as soon 

 as it has cleared off out they come and, using the mud 

 made by the rain, they roll up little balls and proceed to 

 patch up the adobe walls where the rain has eaten into 

 them. Like the dogs they also keep up a constant chat- 

 tering and gabbling. 



