A PINCH OF SALT 
flying eagerly to it? A fox or a wolf could warn its 
fellow of the danger of poisoned meat by showing 
alarm in the presence of the meat. Such meat would 
no doubt have a peculiar odor to the keen scent of 
the fox or the wolf. Animals that live in communi- 
ties, such as bees and beavers, codperate with each 
other without language, because they form a sort of 
organic unity, and what one feels all the others feel. 
One spirit, one purpose, fills the community. 
It is said on good authority that prairie-dogs will 
not permit weeds or tall grass to grow about their 
burrows, as these afford cover for coyotes and other 
enemies to stalk them. If they cannot remove these 
screens, they will leave the place. And yet they will 
sometimes allow a weed such as the Norse nettle or 
the Mexican poppy to grow on the mound at the 
mouth of the den where it will afford shade and not 
obstruct the view. At first thought this conduct may 
look like a matter of calculation and forethought, 
but it is doubtless the result of an instinct that 
has been developed in the tribe by the struggle for 
existence, and with any given rodent is quite inde- 
pendent of experience. It is an inherited fear of 
every weed or tuft of grass that might conceal an 
enemy. 
I am told that prairie wolves will dig up and eat 
meat that has been poisoned and then buried, when 
they will not touch it if left on the surface. In such 
a case the ranchmen think the wolf has been out- 
189 
