THE ROCKS FOR THE CONIES 187 



bleak, unbroken land of winter here above the 

 world. 



But during this brief period the grass grows, 

 and the conies cut and cure it, enough of it to 

 last them from the falling of the September snows 

 until the drifts are once more melted and their 

 rock-slide warms in another summer's sun. For 

 the conies do not hibernate. They stay awake 

 down in their catacombs ; buried alive in pitch- 

 black night with snow twenty-five feet deep above 

 them for nine out of twelve months of the year ! 

 Here they are away up on the sides of the wild- 

 est summits, living their lives, keeping their 

 houses, rearing their children, visiting back and 

 forth through their subways for all their long 

 winter night, protected by the drifts which lie so 

 deep that they keep out the cold. 



Right near me was one of their little haycocks, 

 nearly cured and ready for storing in their barns 

 beneath the rocks ; but this would not last long. 

 It was already early August and what haying 

 they had to do must be done quickly or winter 

 would catch them hungry. 



They cut and cock the grass about the slide 

 until it is cured; then they carry it all below 



