Part 20

At this time it cuts twigs from bushes and gnaws the bark from the trunks and roots of the smaller trees, sometimes completely girdling and killing trees more than two feet in diameter. Its underground tunnels are also extended at this season, the soils being pushed up in dumps under the snow and parts of the snow tunnels are packed full of it for some distance, so that when the snow disappears the curious earth-forms remain like those of the pocket gopher.

The mountain-beaver lives a monotonous existence and correspondingly lacks the mental vivacity of many other species which have a greater freedom of movement. When one is caught it shows little fear, but struggles to escape, growling, clattering its teeth, and biting viciously at anything within reach. Its desire for food, however, appears to control its emotions, and very soon after being captured it will eat any green vegetation offered, as unconcernedly as though free.

That the mountain-beaver possesses social instincts is evident, as a pair is often found occupying one set of tunnels, and in many favorable places a number will have their burrows closely grouped and connected with a network of communicating surface trails.

Although mainly nocturnal, the animals are active early in the morning and late in the afternoon, as well as throughout dark days. Those kept in captivity would show periods of restless activity at night and have alternating periods of sleep and wakefulness during the day. Sometimes they would sleep coiled with the head turned under the body and again flat on their backs. During these periods their sleep is often so profound that they may be handled without being awakened.

One captive animal is reported to have uttered a curious quavering note resembling that of a screech-owl. They have a strong musky odor, which is very evident when they are first caught, and which is frequently apparent about the burrows.

Careful and repeated efforts to keep these animals in captivity under as near normal conditions as possible in regard to food and surroundings in the vicinity of where they were captured have, up to the present time, resulted in failure. In every case the animals failed to thrive and soon died.

The mating occurs about the middle of March, and a month later litters of two or three young are born. The young grow slowly, not attaining full size for a year or more, and do not breed until the second year, but they leave the shelter of the home nest and scatter to occupy burrows of their own at the end of the first two or three months.

The mountain-beaver feeds upon nearly all small vegetation growing in its haunts, including, in addition to small herbage, shrubs, the bark of trees and bushes, ferns, and fern roots. More than thirty species of native plants have been found among its “hay” piles at the mouths of burrows. Since its country has become increasingly occupied by farmers, it has developed a fondness for cultivated crops that, in many places, is rendering it a pest. It appears to have a special taste for cabbage, potato, and onion tops, and other garden produce.

When gathering its food it sits up squirrel-like and grasps the plant stem with one hand, a long projecting tubercle on the “heel” of the hand opposing the fingers like a thumb and giving a good grasp, so that it can pull plants down to be bitten off with the sharp front teeth. Sometimes it climbs up a few feet into a bush or small branching tree after succulent shoots.

The mountain-beaver has the interesting habit of gathering stores of green plant food much like that of the cony on the mountain tops, but appears to be more methodical in its ways, gathering the stems of such plants as grasses, ferns, and lupins, as well as twigs of various bushes and carrying them in bundles as large as can be held in the mouth, the butts of the stems neatly laid together. These little bundles of “hay” are placed side by side about the entrances of the burrows, with the butts all parallel on sticks or other support to keep them as clear as possible from the ground. They are left thus for a day or more to cure before being carried into the subterranean store-rooms.

Chief among the four-footed enemies of the mountain-beaver are the fisher and bobcat, and an eagle has been seen keeping close watch at the entrance of their burrows.

=THE COMMON WOODCHUCK, OR AMERICAN MARMOT= (=Marmota monax= and its relatives)

(_For illustration, see page 534_)

The woodchuck or “groundhog” is a typical marmot, with coarse hair, heavy body, short neck, short, bushy tail, powerful legs, and feet armed with strong claws for digging. When fully grown it averages about ten pounds in weight. Its usual color is a grizzled brown, but in some districts black, or melanistic, individuals are not uncommon.

Marmots are common to Europe, Asia, and North America. The group contains many species and geographic races varying in size and color. The Alpine marmot of Europe is probably the most familiar of the Old World species and the woodchuck the best known in America.

North America contains several species of marmots, their joint territory extending from coast to coast over the northern parts of the continent and from southern Labrador, the southern shores of Hudson Bay and Great Slave Lake, and central Alaska southward to northern Alabama, and along the high mountains to New Mexico and the southern Sierra Nevada of California. The common woodchuck is well known to every dweller in the countryside of the Eastern States and Canada, where it occurs from sea-level to near the tops of the highest mountains, at altitudes of over 4,000 feet.

It is a familiar habitant of fields and grassy hillsides, especially where bordering woodland offers safe retreat. In such places it digs burrows under stone walls, rocks, ledges, old stumps, or even out in the open grass-grown fields. It commonly lives in the midst of the forest, where its dens are located in a variety of situations. The burrows are marked by little mounds of earth at the entrances and ordinarily contain from twenty to forty feet of branching galleries, one or more of which end in a rounded chamber about a foot in diameter, well lined with dry grass and leaves.

Within these warm nests the females bring forth from three to nine blind and helpless young about the last of April or early in May. A few weeks later the young appear about the entrance of the burrows sunning themselves and playing with one another, but usually ready to disappear at the first alarm. At times, however, they are surprisingly stupid and may be captured with ease. Woodchucks have practically no economic value. Their flesh, while occasionally eaten, is little esteemed, and their coarsely haired pelts are worthless as fur.

The woodchuck is a sluggish and stupid animal, which does not ordinarily go far from its burrow, but at certain seasons, especially in spring, wanders widely, as though looking over its territory before locating for the summer. It has much curiosity and often sits upright on its hind feet to look about, remaining for a long time as motionless as a statue. When one is driven into its burrow, if a person approaches quietly and whistles, it will often raise its head in the entrance and look about to satisfy its curiosity.

Its only note is a short shrill whistle, which it utters explosively at frequent intervals when much alarmed. At such times it also chatters its teeth with a rattling sound as owls sometimes clatter their beaks.

Owing to their mainly diurnal habits and persistence in living in and about the borders of fields, woodchucks are among the most widely known of our smaller mammals, and have long been the favorite game of the country boy and his dog. When cornered they will fight savagely and with their strong incisors inflict severe wounds.

They feed on grasses, clover, and other succulent plants, including various cultivated crops, especially vegetables in field and garden, where they sometimes do much damage. The holes and earth mounds they make in fields, in addition to feeding on and trampling down grasses or grain, excite a strong feeling against them, and farmers everywhere look upon them as a nuisance. In New Hampshire so great was the prejudice against them that in 1883 a law was passed placing a bounty of ten cents each on them: “_Provided_, That no bounty shall be paid for any woodchuck killed on Sunday.”

Unlike many rodents, the woodchucks do not lay up stores of food for winter. As summer draws to an end they feed heavily and become excessively fat. On the approach of cold weather they become more and more sluggish, appearing above ground with decreasing frequency until from the end of September to the first of November, according to locality, they retire to their burrows and begin the long hibernating sleep which continues until the approach of spring.

Some time between February and April, according to latitude, they come forth to resume their seasonal activities. In the northern parts of their range they usually come out several weeks before the snow disappears and may be tracked in it as they wander about searching for food or a new location.

The prominence of the groundhog as a popular figure in the country lore of the Eastern States is shown by his having been given a place with the Saints on the calendar, February 2 being widely known as “Groundhog Day.” It is claimed that on this date the groundhog wakes from his long winter sleep and appears at the mouth of his burrow to look about and survey the weather. If the sun shines so that he can see his shadow, bad weather is indicated and he retires to resume his sleep for another six weeks. Otherwise, the winter is broken and mild weather is predicted. Even on the outskirts of Washington some of the countrymen still appraise the character of the coming spring by the weather on “Groundhog Day.”

=THE HOARY MARMOT, OR WHISTLER= (=Marmota caligata= and its relatives)

(_For illustration, see page 535_)

The whistler is the largest and handsomest of the American marmots. It is similar in proportions to the common woodchuck, but averages nearly twice its weight. Its fur, far thicker and of a better quality, might have a value in the fur trade if enough of the skins were available. As it is, the skins are used only for robes and sometimes for clothing by the Indians.

The distribution of this characteristic animal of the northern Rocky Mountains and outlying ranges extends from the Endicott Mountains, fronting the Arctic coast of Alaska, and the peninsula of Alaska, southeasterly to the Bitterroot Mountains of Idaho, Mount Rainier, the Olympics of Washington, and Vancouver Island. In the North its range extends from above timber-line down over hare slopes and through glacial valleys to the sea-level along the southern coast of Alaska. To the southward it is limited wholly to the higher elevations, usually above timber-line.

Owing to variations in climatic conditions and to isolation in different parts of its range, several geographic races of the whistler have been developed. In the mountains to the southward of its range other marmots occur as far as New Mexico and California.

When the French-Canadian voyageurs on their fur-trading expeditions first visited the Rocky Mountains they encountered the hoary marmots and applied to them the name “siffleur,” or whistler, which they had already given the common woodchuck of eastern Canada. The shrill note of the hoary marmot, under favorable circumstances, may be heard more than a mile and justifies the restriction of the name whistler to it.

The whistler lives in such remote and unfrequented districts that little is known of its life history. It is diurnal in habits and loves the free open spaces of the high mountain ridges. There its loud, oft-repeated call note, striking colors, together with its habit of running about on the snowbanks, render it unusually conspicuous.

High in the mountains it usually inhabits rock slides, the tumbled rock masses of glacial moraines, or rocky points, but sometimes takes up its abode on open earth slopes or in the bottoms of little glacial valleys. Ordinarily the dens are hidden in the rock slides and broken-down ledges, or burrows are dug under the shelter of large boulders and even in open ground away from any rocky shelter.

During the sunny days of summer the whistler regularly frequents the top of some conspicuous boulder or projecting rocky point, from which it commands a sweeping view of all its surroundings. Its sight and hearing are extraordinarily keen, and when perched on its lookout it is difficult to stalk. When one has its burrow located in an open place it often sits upright on its haunches to look watchfully about, and at the first alarm disappears into its den. This watchfulness is necessary, for even in the remote alpine highlands it occupies, the whistler is beset by enemies. The most formidable of these are the great brown and grizzly bears of the North, which dig it from its burrow. In addition prowling wolves, Canada lynxes, wolverines, and eagles take occasional toll from its numbers.

Toward the end of summer, when the high alpine slopes are thickly grown with small flowering herbage, the whistler feeds heavily on many of the plants and, like the woodchuck at this season, becomes excessively fat. Before the arrival of winter it retires to the shelter of its den and begins the long hibernating sleep which may last six months or more. In spring, before the snowy mantle is gone from the mountains, it is out, ready to welcome the approaching summer. A few weeks later the three or four young are born. They remain with the mother throughout the season and during their first winter may hibernate in the home den.

The unspoiled wilderness of remote northern mountain slopes and ridges where the whistler lives is also the home of the mountain sheep, caribou, and huge northern bears. As the hardy sportsmen roam these inspiring heights in search of game their attention is constantly attracted to the marmots, whose presence and shrill call notes lend a pleasing touch of life to many an otherwise harsh and forbidding scene.

=THE PRAIRIE-DOG= (=Cynomys ludovicianus= and its relatives)

(_For illustration, see page 538_)

Prairie-dogs are not “dogs,” but typical rodents, first cousins to the ground squirrels, or spermophiles. As a rule, they may be distinguished from the ground squirrels by their larger size, proportionately shorter and heavier bodies, and shorter tails. In length they vary from fourteen to over seventeen inches, and in weight from one and one-half to more than three pounds.

These rodents are limited to the interior of North America and form a small group of five species and several geographic races. Although closely alike in general form and habits, the species are divided into two sets: one, the most widely distributed and best known, having the tails tipped with black, and the other having the tails tipped with white.

On the treeless western plains and valleys from North Dakota and Montana to Texas and thence west across the Rocky Mountains to Utah and Arizona, they are one of the most numerous and characteristic animals. Southward they range into northwestern Chihuahua and one species occupies an isolated area on the Mexican table-land in southern Coahuila and northern San Luis Potosi, Mexico. Their vertical range varies from about 2,000 feet on the plains to above 10,000 feet in the mountainous parts of Colorado and Arizona.

Owing to their diurnal habits, their exceeding abundance over vast areas, and their interesting mode of living in colonies, prairie-dogs have always attracted the attention of travelers and have become one of the most widely known of our smaller mammals. All who have lived in the West, or who have merely traversed the Great Plains on the transcontinental railroads, have had their interest excited by these plump little animals sitting bolt upright by the mounds which mark the entrances to their burrows, or scampering panicstricken for shelter as the train roars through their “towns.”

So strong is the gregarious instinct in prairie-dogs that they customarily make their burrows within short distances of each other, varying from a few yards to a few rods apart. The inhabitants of these communities, or “towns,” as they have often been termed, vary in number from a few individuals to millions. In western Texas one continuous colony is about 250 miles long and 100 miles wide. In the entire State of Texas 90,000 square miles are occupied by prairie-dogs, and the number of these animals within this area runs into the hundreds of millions. The extent to which they occupy parts of their territory is well illustrated by one situation in a mountain valley, containing about a square mile, in eastern Arizona, which by actual count contained 7,200 of their burrows.

The burrows, from four to five inches in diameter, are usually located on flat or gently sloping ground. They descend abruptly from eight to sixteen feet, then turn at a sharp angle and extend ten to twenty-five feet in a horizontal or slightly upward course. The tunnel at the end of the steep descending shaft is always more or less irregular in course, and branches in various directions, the branches often ending, in a rounded nest or storage chamber, but sometimes forming a loop back to the main passageway. Not infrequently two entrances some distance apart lead to these deep workings. A little niche is ingeniously dug on one side of the steep entrance shaft, four to six feet below the surface, to which on the approach of danger the owner retires to listen and determine whether it may or may not be necessary to seek safety in the depth of the den. It is from these vantage points that the resentful voices of the habitants come to an intruder in a prairie-dog “town” as he passes.

The black-tailed prairie-dog, which is so numerous on the Great Plains, surrounds the entrance to its burrow with a crater-shaped pyramid of soil varying from a few inches to nearly two feet in height and serving perfectly as a dike to keep out the water. The owners keep the funnel-shaped inner slopes of the rims about the entrances in good condition by setting briskly to work to reshape them at the end of a rain-storm, digging and pushing the earth in place with their feet and molding it into a more compact mass by pressing it in with their blunt noses.

The white-tailed prairie-dogs pile the dirt from their excavations out on one side of the entrance, as in the case of most other burrowing animals. Sometimes the dirt in these piles amounts to from ten to twenty bushels, thus indicating extended underground workings.

The vivacity and hearty enjoyment of life by the occupants of a prairie-dog “town” is most entertaining to an observer. With the first peep of the sun above the horizon they are out on the mounds at the entrances of their burrows, first sitting erect on their hind feet and looking sharply about for any prowling enemy. If all is well they begin to run about from one hole to another, as though to pass the compliments of the day, and scatter through the adjacent grassy feeding ground.

The favorite food of prairie-dogs consists of the stems and roots of gramma grass and other richly nutritious forage plants. In addition they eat any native fruits, such as that of the pear-leaved cactus (_Opuntia_) and are extremely destructive to grain, alfalfa, and other cultivated crops. In addition to ordinary vegetation, they eat grasshoppers and are fond of flesh, sometimes being caught far from their homes in traps set for carnivores. They keep the grass and other vegetation cut down or entirely dug out over much of the “town” and especially in a circle about each entrance mound, apparently for the purpose of obtaining a clear view as a safeguard against the approach of any of their many four-footed enemies. This habit is exceedingly injurious to the cattle ranges and often results in much erosion of the fertile surface soil.

The vast numbers of prairie-dogs over so large a part of the grazing areas of the West take a heavy toll from the forage and other crops. As a consequence a campaign of destruction is being waged against them as the country becomes more and more settled, and they will eventually disappear from much of their present range. However detrimental they may be from an economic point of view, they are among our most interesting species, and when taken young their playful disposition and intelligence render them most entertaining captives.

Owing to the constant danger to which they are subject from coyotes, foxes, bobcats, badgers, and black-footed ferrets, in addition to eagles and other birds of prey, prairie-dogs are constantly on the alert. At any suspicious occurrence the first to observe it runs to his entrance mound, if the danger is not pressing, but otherwise to the nearest mound, where he sits up at his full height, “barking” and vibrating his tail, ready, if necessary, to disappear instantly. At the same time the “town” is alive with scurrying figures of the habitants rushing panic-stricken for their homes, and the air is filled with a chorus of their little barking cries. When all have been frightened to cover barking continues in the burrows, but an hour or more may pass before a “dog” will reappear.

I once stalked a solitary antelope by creeping flat on the ground through a prairie-dog “town.” As I drew near the first burrows, the “dogs” all rushed to their mounds, sitting there and barking at the queer and unknown animal thus invading their precincts. The strange sight excited as much curiosity among them as alarm. As I approached one mound after another the owners would become almost hysterical in their excitement and would sit first on all fours and then stand up at full height on their hind feet, the tail all the time vibrating as though worked by some mechanism, while the barking continued at the intruder as rapidly and explosively as possible. When I came within six or eight feet the “dog” would dive down his hole, sputtering barks from the depths as he went, but often would pop up again to take another look before finally disappearing. In this way I passed ten or a dozen mounds while the dozens of “dogs” off my line of progress worked themselves into a frenzy of curiosity and protest. When the stalk was finished I passed back through the “town” and my upright figure was promptly recognized by the habitants as that of an enemy and every one disappeared before I was within fifty yards of the first mound.

The common note of the black-tailed prairie-dogs is a squeaking “bark,” much like that produced by squeezing a toy dog; in addition, there is a rapid chattering note, often given as the “dogs” vanish down the hole. The white-tailed species have a shriller, more chirping note. In both species the odd vibrating motion of the tail, held stiffly close to the back, is characteristic.