Thousands of them were running about among their dwellings when Dick first beheld them; but the moment they caught sight of the horsemen rising over the ridge they set up a tremendous hubbub of consternation.  Each little beast instantly mounted guard on the top of his house, and prepared, as it were, “to receive cavalry.”

The most ludicrous thing about them was that, although the most timid and cowardly creatures in the world, they seemed the most impertinent things that ever lived!  Knowing that their holes afforded them a perfectly safe retreat, they sat close beside them; and as the hunters slowly approached, they elevated their heads, wagged their little tails, showed their teeth, and chattered at them like monkeys.  The nearer they came the more angry and furious did the prairie-dogs become, until Dick Varley almost fell off his horse with suppressed laughter.  They let the hunters come close up, waxing louder and louder in their wrath; but the instant a hand was raised to throw a stone or point a gun, a thousand little heads dived into a thousand holes, and a thousand little tails wriggled for an instant in the air—­then a dead silence reigned over the deserted scene.

“Bien, them’s have dive into de bo’-els of de eart’,” said Henri with a broad grin.

Presently a thousand noses appeared, and nervously disappeared, like the wink of an eye.  Then they appeared again, and a thousand pair of eyes followed.  Instantly, like Jack in the box, they were all on the top of their hillocks again, chattering and wagging their little tails as vigorously as ever.  You could not say that you saw them jump out of their holes.  Suddenly, as if by magic, they were out; then Dick tossed up his arms, and suddenly, as if by magic, they were gone!

Their number was incredible, and their cities were full of riotous activity.  What their occupations were the hunters could not ascertain, but it was perfectly evident that they visited a great deal and gossiped tremendously, for they ran about from house to house, and sat chatting in groups; but it was also observed that they never went far from their own houses.  Each seemed to have a circle of acquaintance in the immediate neighbourhood of his own residence, to which in case of sudden danger he always fled.

But another thing about these prairie-dogs (perhaps, considering their size, we should call them prairie-doggies), another thing about them, we say, was that each doggie lived with an owl, or, more correctly, an owl lived with each doggie!  This is such an extraordinary fact that we could scarce hope that men would believe us, were our statement not supported by dozens of trustworthy travellers who have visited and written about these regions.  The whole plain was covered with these owls.  Each hole seemed to be the residence of an owl and a doggie, and these incongruous couples lived together apparently in perfect harmony.