"Oh, I
know--prairie-dogs!"
There was a whole town of them right beside the road, with
every dog sitting on top of the mound that marked his home, and
uttering his shrill little bark, and marking each bark by a
peculiar little jerk of his tail.
"How do you know they are prairie-dogs?" asked Jack.
"They had some of them in the park at home," said Ollie. "But
last fall they all went down in their burrows for the winter, and
in the spring they didn't come up. Folks said they must have
frozen to death."
"Nonsense," said Jack. "They got turned around somehow, and
in the spring dug down instead of digging up. They may come out
in China yet if they have good-luck."
"I can hardly swallow that," replied Ollie. "But, anyhow,
these seem to be all right."
There must have been three or four hundred of them, and not
for a moment did one of them stop barking till Snoozer jumped out
of the wagon and charged them, when, with one last bark, each one
of them shot down his hole so quick that it was almost impossible
to see him move.
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