by his kitchen stove and to see his squashes
and Christmas melons, heaped in the store-
room for winter. As we rode away with the
spade, Antonia suggested that we stop at
the prairie-dog town and dig into one of the
holes. We could find out whether they ran
straight down, or were horizontal, like mole-
holes; whether they had underground connec-
tions; whether the owls had nests down there,
lined with feathers. We might get some pup-
pies, or owl eggs, or snake-skins.

The dog-town was spread out over perhaps
ten acres. The grass had been nibbled short
and even, so this stretch was not shaggy and
red like the surrounding country, but gray and
velvety. The holes were several yards apart,
and were disposed with a good deal of regu-
larity, almost as if the town had been laid out
in streets and avenues. One always felt that
an orderly and very sociable kind of life was
going on there. I picketed Dude down in a
draw, and we went wandering about, looking
for a hole that would be easy to dig. The
dogs were out, as usual, dozens of them, sit-
ting up on their hind legs over the doors of
their houses. As we approached, they barked,
shook their tails at us, and scurried under-

[[49]]

p048 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p049w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p050

v?