THE PRAIRIE DOG AT HOME. 



433 



existed, will soon be a thing of the past. In 

 the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico 

 it is such hard work to hunt that game of 

 all kinds will exist for a long time. It is not 

 likely that those mountains will ever be 

 thickly settled, therefore turkeys, deer, and 

 bear will continue to find there homes se- 

 cure enough to prevent their total extinc- 

 tion. 



The numbers of turkeys killed in Texas 

 and the old Indian Territory will never 

 again be equalled. In the winter of '86-'87, 

 on Deep Red creek South of Fort Sill, a 

 hunting party of about 10 hunters killed in 

 one night more than 80 turkeys, and about 



125 in 3 days. One year from that date, an- 

 other party, having in it several hunters of 

 the year before, hunted that same creek 

 for more than 20 miles, killing but 5 in 5 

 days. 



The shotgun, loaded heavily with BB 

 shot, is the best weapon 10 use for these 

 birds, although smaller shot do better 

 against a half-grown one, not tearing the 

 flesh so badly. The rifle is often used too, 

 and I have even killed 2 turkeys at one shot 

 with a rifle; but a large bullet tears so badly 

 that it almost spoils the bird. It is good 

 shooting to kill a turkey with a rifle, and to 

 kill 2 at one shot is always accidental. 



THE PRAIRIE DOG AT HOME. 



GEO. G. CANTWELL. 



One of the novelties to the Eastern trav- 

 eler crossing the plains is a prairie dog 

 town. Although he may never have seen 

 one of these rodents before, its saucy face is 

 instantly recognized, for its fame has spread 

 over the land. A spirit of romance hovers 

 about this little dweller of the plains, and he 

 is almost the last picturesque feature in the 

 great panorama of the West, now rapidly 

 fading away. 



When our first daring pioneers pushed 

 their way across the Kansas prairies, they 

 found the prairie dog there, filling in the 

 little places not occupied by buffalo or In- 

 dians. But alas, for the little dog! He has 

 watched from the top of his mound the In- 

 dian chasing the last buffalo over his town. 

 The buffalo has gone and the Indians have 

 nearly all departed to the happy hunting 

 grounds; yet the little dog is there still. 

 The Texas steer and the cowboy have long 

 been his companions, but they, too, are fast 

 passing away. 



Approaching civilization has served to 

 make the drog crafty and to sharpen his 

 wits, for it is only by persistent watchful- 

 ness, that he has been able to hold his own 

 against a pest of enemies. 



Although scattered generally throughout 

 their range the dogs seem to court the so- 

 ciety of man, for they are most plentiful 

 about the outskirts of villages and along the 

 roads among the ranches. Their colonies, 

 or towns, as they are called, are generally 

 on high, dry ground, sometimes on hill- 

 sides, but never in the creek bottoms. They 

 have a dread of water. Instinct seems to 

 warn them of its dangers, and in later days 

 the small boy has taught them the folly of 

 locating under the slope of irrigating 

 ditches. 



On the high plains water is not found 



running along every roadside, for the boys 

 to dip out by the canful, and pour into the 

 holes to drown the dogs out as they would 

 drown a gopher. 



When holes are dug in level places, the 

 dogs pile the dirt that is taken out, about 

 the entrance, so as to bring the opening of 

 the tunnel a foot or more above the sur- 

 rounding surface. The holes are large for 

 the size of their owners, for 2 dogs can pass 

 each other easily, in most of them. The 

 hole goes almost straight down, for 3 or 4 

 feet; then makes a sharp turn, and con- 

 tinues 8 or 10 feet on a slight inclination up- 

 ward, where it ends in a chamber, a foot or 

 more in width, and 2 to 5 feet under the sur- 

 face. 



In an ordinary town of a few dozen dwel- 

 lers, the holes are usually about 25 feet 

 apart; but in the large colonies, where they 

 occupy hundreds of acres, the holes are 

 close together, and the tunnels join each 

 other in a perfect network. This is the 

 cause of many a family row. In this tene- 

 ment style of living, fierce combats are 

 waged between jealous males. 



As a general thing the prairie dog feeds 

 on roots, grass, alfalfa when they can get it, 

 and almost anything that goes to make up 

 the food of a rabbit; but unlike the rabbit, 

 the dog eats also lizards, toads, snakes, 

 grasshoppers and other insects. He is 

 about the size and shape of the musk-rat; 

 of a light golden color, darker on the back, 

 and shading to black on the tail. This is 

 the species that lives in Eastern Colorado. 

 In the mountains another variety has taken 

 up its home, in the grassy parks below the 

 snow-capped peaks. He is similar to the 

 plains variety, but is the proud possessor 

 of a white tail, and is known as the white- 

 tailed prairie dog (Cynomys leiicurus) . 



