"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.