THE HOME RANCH 4I 



wheeling vulture falls on the sun-scorched ground. The cattle, that have 

 strung down in long files from the hills, lie quietly on the sand-bars, 

 except that some of the bulls keep traveling up and down, bellowing and 

 routing or giving vent to long, surly grumblings as they paw the sand 

 and toss it up with their horns. At times the horses, too, will come 

 down to drink, and to splash and roll in the water. 



The prairie-dogs alone are not daunted by the heat, but sit at the 

 mouths of their burrows with their usual pert curiosity. They are both- 

 ersome little fellows, and most prolific, increasing in spite of the perpetual 

 war made on them by every carnivorous bird and beast. One of their 

 worst foes is the black-footed ferret, a handsome, rather rare animal, 

 somewhat like a mink, with a yellow-brown body and dark feet and 

 mask. It is a most bloodthirsty little brute, feeding on all small animals 

 and ground birds. It will readily master a jack-rabbit, will kill very 

 young fawns if it finds them in the mother's absence, and works extraor- 

 dinary havoc in a dog town, as it can follow the wretched little beasts 

 down into the burrows. In one instance, I knew of a black-footed ferret 

 making a succession of inroads on a ranchman's poultry, killing and car- 

 rying off most of them before it was trapped. Coyotes, foxes, swifts, 

 badgers, and skunks also like to lurk about the dog towns. Of the 

 skunks, by the way, we had last year altogether too much ; there was a 

 perfect plague of them all along the river, and they took to trying to get 

 into the huts, with the stupid pertinacity of the species. At every ranch 

 house dozens were killed, we ourselves bagging thirty-three, all slain near 

 the house, and one, to our unspeakable sorrow, in it. 



In making a journey over ground we know, during the hot weather 

 we often prefer to ride by moonlight. The moon shines very brightly 

 through the dry, clear night air, turning the gray buttes into glimmering 

 silver ; and the horses travel far more readily and easily than under the 

 glaring noonday sun. The road between my upper and lower ranch 

 houses is about forty miles long, sometimes following the river-bed, and 

 then again branching off inland, crossing the great plateaus and winding 

 through the ravines of the broken country. It is a five-hours' fair ride ; 

 and so, in a hot spell, we like to take it during the cool of the night, 

 starting at sunset. After nightfall the face of the country seems to alter 

 marvelously, and the clear moonlight only intensifies the change. The 

 river gleams like running quicksilver, and the moonbeams play over the 

 grassy stretches of the plateaus and glance off the wind-rippled blades as 

 they would from water. The Bad Lands seem to be stranger and wilder 

 than ever, the silvery rays turning the country into a kind of grim fairy- 



