THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY 



12 



the entrance of an estuary on the Norfolk or Suffolk coast, 

 the sea, during some high tide or storm, has often breached 

 the barrier and inundated again the interior country. 



The frequent fluctuations in the direction of river- 

 courses, and the activity exerted by running water in 

 various parts of the basin of the Mississippi, are partlj', 

 perhaps, to be ascribed to the co-operation of subterranean 

 movements, which alter from time to time the relative 

 levels of various parts of the surface. So late as the year 

 1812, the whole valley, from the mouth of the Ohio to 

 that of the St. Francis, including a front of three hundred 

 miles, was convulsed to such a degree, as to create new 

 islands in the river, and lakes in the alluvial plain, some 

 of which were twenty miles in extent. We shall allude 

 to this event when we treat of earthquakes, but may state 

 here that tney happened exactly at the same time as the 

 fatal convulsions at Caraccas; and the district shaken was 

 nearly five degrees of latitude farther removed from the 

 great centre of volcanic disturbance, than the basin of the 

 Red River, to which we before alluded.* When coun- 

 tries are liable to be so extensively and permanently 

 affected by earthquakes, speculations concerning changes 

 in their hydrographical features must not be made without 

 regard to the igneous as well as the aqueous causes of 

 change. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that the ine- 

 qualities produced even by one shock, might render the 

 study of the alluvial plain of the Mississippi, at some future 

 period, most perplexing to a geologist who should reason 

 on the distribution of transported materials, without being 

 aware that the configuration of the country had varied 

 materially during the time when the excavating or remov- 

 ing power of the river was greatest. The region convulsed 

 in 1812, of which New Madrid was the centre, exceeded 

 in length the whole basin of the Thames, and the shocks 

 were connected with active volcanoes more distant from 

 New Madrid than are the extinct craters of the Eyfel or 

 of Auvergne from London. If, therefore, during the innu- 

 merable eruptions which formerly broke forth in succession 

 in the parts of Europe last alluded to, the basin of the prin- 

 cipal river of our island was frequently agitated, and the 

 relative levels of its several parts altered (an hypothesis in 

 perfect accordance with modern analogy,) the difficulties 

 of some theorists might, perhaps, be removed; and they 

 might no longer feel themselves under the necessity of 

 resorting to catastrophes out of the ordinary course of 

 Nature, when they endeavour to explain the alluvial phe- 

 nomena of that district. — Ly ell's Geology. 



* Darby mentions beds of mnrine shells on the banks of Red River, which 

 seem to indicate tliat Lower Louisiana is of recent formation: its elevation, per- 

 haps, above the sea, may have been due to the same scries of earthquakes which 

 continues to agitate equatorial America. 



THE WISHTONWISH, 



OR PRAIRIE DOG. 



The name of TVishtonwish has lately become familiar, 

 from a celebrated novel, by Cooper, bearing this title, 

 which is the Indian name for an animal described by Say, 

 in Long's Expedition. 



Mr. Cooper has mistaken the animal, and describes it as 

 a bird, known by the name of Whippoorwill. Say remarks, 

 that "this interesting and sprightly little animal has received 

 the absurd and inappropriate name of Prairie dog, from a 

 fancied resemblance of its warning cry to the hurried bark- 

 ing of a small dog. This sound may be imitated with the 

 human voice, by the pronunciation of the syllable cheh, 

 cheh, cheh, in a sibilated manner, and in rapid succession, 

 by propelling the breath between the tip of the tongue and 

 the roof of the mouth. 



As particular districts, of limited extent, are, in general, 

 occupied by the burrows of these animals, such assemblages 

 of dwellings are denominated Prairie dog villages by hunt- 

 ers and others who wander in these remote regions. 



These villages, like those of man, differ widely in the 

 extent of surface which they occupy; some are confined to 

 an area of a few acres, others are bounded by a circumfe- 

 rence of many miles. Only one of these villages occurred 

 between the Missouri and the Pawnee towns; thence to the 

 Platte they were much more numerous. 



The entrance to the burrow is at the summit of the little 

 mound of earth brought up by the animal during the pro- 

 gress of the excavation below. 



These mounds are sometimes inconspicuous, but gene- 

 rally somewhat elevated above the common surface, though 

 rarely to the height of eighteen inches. Their form is that 

 of a truncated cone, on a base of two or three feet, perfo- 

 rated by a comparatively large hole or entrance at the sum- 

 mit or in the side. The whole surface, but more particularly 

 the summit, is trodden down and compacted, like a well- 

 worn pathway. The hole descends vertically to the depth 

 of one or two feet, whence it continues in an oblique direc- 

 tion downward. 



A single burrow may have many occupants. We have 

 seen as many as seven or eight individuals sitting upon one 

 mound. As they pass the winter in a lethargic sleep, they 

 lay up no provision of food for that season, but defend them- 

 selves from its rigors by accurately closing up the entrance 

 of the burrow. The further arrangeinents which the Prairie 

 dog makes for its comfort and security are worthy of atten- 

 tion. He constructs for himself a very neat globular cell 

 with fine dry grass, having an aperture at top, large enough 

 to admit the finger, and so compactly formed that it might 

 almost be rolled over the floor without receiving injury." 



