352 A WINTER-SLEEP. 



mound they generally sit, chirping and chattering to one another, 

 like two neighbour gossips in a village. Their number is incredible, 

 and their cities (for they deserve no less a name) full of activity and 

 bustle. I do not know what their occupations are ; but I have seen 

 them constantly running from one hole to another, although they do 

 not ever pay any distant visits. They seem on the approach of danger 

 always to retire to their own homes ; but their great delight appar- 

 ently consists in braving it, with the usual insolence of cowardice 

 when secure from punishment ; for, as you approach, they wag their 

 little tails, elevate their heads, and chatter at you like a monkey, 

 louder and louder the nearer you come ; but no sooner is the hand 

 raised to any missile, whether gun, arrow, stick, or stone, than they 

 pop into the hole with a rapidity only equalled by that sudden dis- 

 appearance of Punch, with which, when a child, I have been so much 

 delighted in the streets and squares of London." 



Captain Murray observes that as there is generally neither rain 

 nor dew on the plains which they inhabit, during the summer, while, 

 on the other hand, these little creatures never wander far from their 

 "towns," it seems reasonable to conclude they need no other liquid 

 than they can extract from the grass they eat. It is certain that 

 they pass the winter in a complete state of lethargy and torpor, for 

 they accumulate no supply of provisions against that season ; while 

 the herbage which thrives about their habitat dries up in autumn, 

 and soon afterwards the frosts render it impossible for them to pro- 

 cure their ordinary food. When the prairie dog feels the approach of 

 his time of somnolence generally about the end of October he 

 closes all the passages of his dormitory to protect him from the cold, 

 and wholly resigns himself to the pleasures of repose. He remains 

 thus immured and inert until awakened by the first warm airs of 

 spring, when he throws wide his gates and reappears on the surface 

 of the refreshened earth, in all his whilom e liveliness and gaiety. 



