"silence," he dropped his tail at once and stepped to the rear. He did
not, however, cease to regard the prairie-dogs with intense curiosity.

These remarkable little creatures have been egregiously misnamed by
the hunters of the west, for they bear not the slightest resemblance
to dogs, either in formation or habits. They are, in fact, the marmot,
and in size are little larger than squirrels, which animals they
resemble in some degree. They burrow under the light soil, and throw
it up in mounds like moles.

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.