The neck was short, as in the pigs generally, the body not very elongate and the tail of moderate length; at the shoulders, the spines of the dorsal vertebræ were very long, making a decided hump, and in the lumbar and posterior dorsal region the processes for articulation between the vertebræ were extremely elaborate. For one of the pigs, the limbs were very long and gave quite a stilted look to the animal. As in the modern peccaries, the fore-arm bones were indistinguishably fused together and the feet had only two toes each, the only members of the suborder in which digital reduction had proceeded so far, though the existing peccaries approximate this condition. There were, however, nodular vestiges of two other digits, which prove the derivation of this form from at least a four-toed type; no cannon-bone was formed. In view of the size of the animal, the hoofs were surprisingly small, which suggests that the weight was chiefly borne upon a pad. _†Dinohyus_ was a very large animal, six feet or more in height at the shoulder. [Illustration: FIG. 192.—Right manus of †entelodont (_†Archæotherium ingens_) from lower White River beds. Princeton University Museum.] [Illustration: FIG. 193.—Skull of White River †entelodont (_†Archæotherium mortoni_). Princeton University Museum. For restoration, see Fig. 137, p. 260.] In the upper Oligocene were very large species of another, but closely similar, genus (_†Boöchœrus_) though somewhat smaller than those of _†Dinohyus_, and the species of the upper White River beds (_†Archæotherium_) were little, if at all, smaller than those of the John Day. A number of specimens in the museum of Princeton University throw a welcome light upon the habits of these strange creatures. In one, the external, or third, upper incisor tooth has a deep, triangular notch worn in its postero-external face, and the lower canine has a well-defined groove worn on the posterior side at the base of the crown; other individuals show less distinct marks of similar kind. (See Fig. 194.) It is out of the question to suppose that these grooves and notches could have been produced by abrasion with other teeth, for no other teeth could reach the worn areas, and it is altogether probable that they were made in digging up roots. The root, held firmly in the ground at both ends and looped over the teeth which pulled until it broke, and being covered with abrasive grit, would wear just such marks as the teeth actually display.[7] While the †entelodonts were thus rooters, they were doubtless omnivorous, like other pigs, and did not disdain a meal of carrion when they could get it. It is likely that the heavy canine tusks were also used as weapons, both in defence against the attacks of carnivores and in fighting between the males of the same species. It must have been in some such encounter that the animal represented by a complete skeleton in the Princeton Museum received its broken rib; that the fracture was made