CELEBRATING GROUND-HOG DAY 53 



the Continental Divide. On the skyline I saw a 

 number of sheep pointing their noses into the 

 west. Closer to me another flock walked directly 

 to the plateau rim and pointed their noses into 

 the west. There I left them standing. Early 

 the following morning a Chinook came roaring 

 out of the west. Another day three separate 

 flocks were watching the northeast sky. Twenty- 

 four hours later a blizzard arrived from the 

 northeast. But there probably isn't anything 

 in the make-up of animals that will give long- 

 range weather information. These sheep simply 

 had delicate advance wireless messages of what 

 already was coming. 



Just as George and I were parting at the house 

 something stuck its brown head out of a hole 

 beneath some bushes, then ducked back. Both 

 thought it was a rabbit but it might be a ground- 

 hog. We had lost faith in the weather business 

 of ground-hogs but if one was loose on Ground- 

 hog Day we wanted to be sure and have a look 

 at him. 



We made haste to try to rout the fellow out. 

 George was prodding away at a lively rate in one 

 entrance hole with a long, slender pole, while I 

 was watching the other entrance and trimming 

 another pole with which to explore in case George 

 failed to start anything. 



"I'm prodding something," called George, 



