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, cooperate 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- 

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