DOG-TOWN DIGGINGS 223 
deserted dog holes, rabbits possessed many, and 
two were taken by skunk families. 
The black-footed ferret is the terrible enemy 
of prairie dogs. This small, agile, powerful 
fellow boldly invades the dens and slays the dog, 
rabbit or other inmates. The dogs do not ap- 
pear even to attempt to resist him. But ap- 
parently he does not often call. 
The mixed population of dog towns is not at 
peace. Lizards, rabbits, dogs, owls, snakes con- 
gest in the same block, but the block is red in 
tooth and claw. In a few cases I noticed these 
warring species all used the same subway en- 
trance, but below the surface they surely lived 
in separate apartments. 
No, the rattlesnake, prairie dog, and owl do 
not lie down together, unless a flood or other 
calamity throws them together. 
One time I was approaching a town limits 
where yelpings and yappings filled the sky like 
a wind. From the summit of the ridge treeless, 
houseless, fenceless plains extended in leagues 
of level distances to every horizon. Before me 
there must have been one hundred thousand dogs 
swarming like the inhabitants of a disturbed ant 
hill. Beside a lone and grizzled old cottonwood 
I explored localities of dog town through my 
glasses. 
Cloud shadows were sliding in silence across 
