THE SPINY POCKET MICE 



(Perognathus spinatus Merriam) 



SOON after finishing my desert shanty I built 

 an out-of-door cookstove. With cement and 

 small stones I constructed a fire-box and then 

 closed over the top with sheet steel. On the 

 evening when I cooked my first meal upon it 

 the pocket mice were there at the first smell of 

 gravy. They climbed up on the stone border, 

 which was slightly warm, and sat there on their 

 haunches sniffing the odors. So long as I kept 

 perfectly quiet they manifested not the least 

 bit of fear. Evidently they pronounced the 

 supper odors good, for no sooner had I emptied 

 the contents of my skillet than they leaped 

 into the half-warm vessel and made way with 

 the leavings. 



These little creatures were so graceful, so 

 clever, so elegant and cleanly, that I never 

 minded having them clean out my vessels. My 

 generous-hearted skunk came only too often 

 to help them at their task. Then, of course, 



