PBAmiE-DOG VILLAGE. 37 



the river, wading about among some small islands in search of 

 grass. 



We passed to-day through a large village or settlement of the 

 prairie-dog, (Arctomys ludoviciana,) extending in length not less 

 than half a mile. These little animals are very shy, and, at the 

 least approach of a stranger, hie themselves with all speed to their 

 holes, in which they partly bury their bodies, leaving only their 

 heads visible just above the sm-face of the ground, where, so long 

 as the alarm lasts, they keep up a continual barking. The note 

 somewhat resembles the bark of a small puppy, but is nevertheless 

 so peculiar as to be instantly recognised ever afterward, by any 

 one who has once distinctly heard it. They are very hard to get, 

 as they are never found far from their holes ; and when shot, fall 

 immediately into them, where they are generally guarded by a 

 rattlesnake — the usual sharer of their subterranean retreat. Several 

 were shot by us in this situation, but when the hand was about to 

 be thrust into the hole to draw them out, the ominous rattle of 

 this dreaded reptile would be instantly heard, warning the intruder 

 of the danger he was about to incur. A little, white, burrowing 

 owl also [Stryx cunicularia) is frequently found taking up his 

 abode in the same domicile ; and this strange association of rep- 

 tile, bird, and beast seem to live together in perfect harmony 

 and peace. I have never personally seen the owl thus housed, but 

 have been assured of the fact from so many, so various, and so 

 credible sources, that I cannot doubt it. The whirr of the rattle- 

 snake I have heard frequently when the attempt was made to in- 

 vade these holes, and our men at length became afraid to approach 

 them for this purpose. 



The march, to-day, was prolonged to an unusually late hour, as 

 I was in hopes of reaching the ford of the South Fork before night, but 

 finding this impracticable, we encamped on the bank of the river 

 where the prairie was hard and level, with plenty of excellent grass 

 and water. With the exception of a few small willows growing on 

 the opposite side, and a large cotton-wood or two a few miles up 

 the river, serving to mark the point for crossing, no trees were to 

 be seen. We were fortunate enough, however, to find three or 

 four old lodge-poles, left by a passing band of Sioux, which, eked 

 out by hois de vacJie for fuel, served to give us a capital roast of 

 buffalo-meat, which, wearied as we were by a march of fourteen 

 hours in the burning sun, proved a most welcome and acceptable 

 refreshment. 



