336 



ANIMALS OF 



when irritated or frighted, they have a pierc- 

 ing note that hurts the hear. They are very 

 cleanly animals, and like the cat retire upon 

 necessary occa *ions; but their bodies have 

 a disagreeable scent, particularly in the heat 

 of summer. This tinctures their flesh, which, 

 being very fat and firm, would be very good, 

 were not this flavour always found to predomi- 

 nate. 



We have hitherto been describing affec- 

 tions in this animal which it has in common 

 with many others; but we now come to one 

 which particularly distinguishes it from all 

 others of this kind, and, indeed, from every 

 other quadruped, except the bat and the dor- 

 mouse: this is its sleeping during the winter. 

 The marmout, though a native of the highest 

 mountains, and where the snow is never 

 wholly melted, nevertheless seems to feel 

 the influence of the cold more than any other, 

 and in a manner has all its faculties chilled 

 up in winter. This extraordinary suspension 

 of life and motion for more than half the year, 

 deserves our wonder, and excites our atten- 

 tion to consider the manner of such a tempo- 

 rary death, and the subsequent revival. But 

 firstlo describe, before we attempt to discuss. 



The marmout, usually at the end of Sep- 

 tember, or the beginning of October, prepares 

 to fit up its habitation for the winter, from 

 which it is never seen to issue till about the 

 beginning or the middle of April. This ani- 

 mal's little retreat is made with great precau- 

 tion, and fitted up with art. It is a hole on 

 the side of a mountain, extremely deep, with 

 a spacious apartment at the bottom, which is 

 rather longer than it is broad. In this seve- 

 ral marmouts can reside at the same time, 

 without crowding each other, or injuring the 

 air they breathe. The feet and claws of this 

 animal seem made for digging ; and, in fact, 

 they burrow into the ground with amazing 

 facility, scraping up the ear^h like a rabbit, 

 and throwing back what they have thus loose- 

 ned behind them. But the form of their hole 

 is still more wonderful ; it resembles the let- 

 ter Y ; the two branches being two openings, 

 which conduct into one channel and termi- 

 nates in their general apartment that lies at 

 the bottom. As the whole is made on the 

 declivity of a mountain, there is no part of it 

 on a level but the apartment at the end. One 



of the branches or openings issues out, sloping 

 downwards; and this serves as a kind of sink 

 or drain to the whole family, where they make 

 their excrements, and where the moisture of 

 the place is drawn away. The other branch, 

 on the contrary, slopes upwards, and this 

 serves as their door upon which to go out 

 and in. The apartment at the end is very 

 warmly stuccoed round with moss and hay, 

 of both which they make an ample provision 

 during the summer. As this is a work of 

 great labour, so it is undertaken in common; 

 some cut the finest grass, others gather it, 

 and others take their turns to drag it into 

 their hole. Upon this occasion, as we are 

 told, one of them lies on its back, permits the 

 hay to be heaped upon its belly, keeps its 

 paws upright to make greater room; and in 

 this manner, laying still upon its back, it is 

 dragged by the tail, hay and all, to their com- 

 mon retreat. This also some give as a rea- 

 son for the hair being generally worn away 

 on their backs, as is usually the case; how- 

 ever, a better reason for this may be assign- 

 ed, for their continually rooting up holes, and 

 passing through narrow openings. But, be 

 this as it will, certain it is that they all live 

 together, and work in common to make their 

 habitation as snug and convenient as possible. 

 In it they pass three parts of their lives; into 

 it they retire when the storm is high; in it 

 they continue while it rains; there they re- 

 main when apprehensive of danger, and nevei 

 stir out except in fine weather, never going 

 far from home even then. Whenever they 

 venture abroad, one is placed as a sentinel, 

 sitting upon a lofty rock, while the rest amuse 

 themselves in playing along the green fields, 

 are employed in cutting grass and making 

 hay for their winter's convenience. Their 

 trusty sentinel, when an enemy, a man, a dog> 

 or a bird of prey approaches, apprizes its 

 companions with a whistle, upon which they 

 all make home, the sentinel himself bringing 

 up the rear. 



But it must not be supposed that this hay 

 is designed for provision; on the contrary, it 

 is always found in as great plenty in their 

 holes at the end as at the beginning of win- 

 ter; it is only sought for the convenience of 

 their lodging, and the advantages of their 

 young. As to provision, they seem kindly 



