DOG-TOWN DIGGINGS aij 



deserted dog holes, rabbits possessed many, and 

 two were taken by skunk families. 



The black-footed ferret is the terrible enemy 

 of prairie dogs. This small, agile, powerful 

 fellow boldly invades the dens and slays the dog, 

 rabbit or other inmates. The dogs do not ap- 

 pear even to attempt to resist him. But ap- 

 parently he does not often call. 



The mixed population of dog towns is not at 

 peace. Lizards, rabbits, dogs, owls, snakes con- 

 gest in the same block, but the block is red in 

 tooth and claw. In a few cases I noticed these 

 warring species all used the same subway en- 

 trance, but below the surface they surely lived 

 in separate apartments. 



No, the rattlesnake, prairie dog, and owl do 

 not lie down together, unless a flood or other 

 calamity throws them together. 



One time I was approaching a town limits 

 where yelpings and yappings filled the sky like 

 a wind. From the summit of the ridge treeless, 

 houseless, fenceless plains extended in leagues 

 of level distances to every horizon. Before me 

 there must have been one hundred thousand dogs 

 swarming like the inhabitants of a disturbed ant 

 hill. Beside a lone and grizzled old cottonwood 

 I explored localities of dog town through my 

 glasses. 



Cloud shadows were sliding in silence across 



