The children's greatest delight was when the camp happened to be pitched near a prairie-dog town, and they were never weary of watching the antics of these funny little creatures. Some of these towns were of considerable extent, the ground within their circle being quite bare of herbage from their scratching, and the constant scampering of their little feet, and covered thickly with the mounds which marked the entrances to the innumerable holes. The prairie-dogs themselves were about the size of rabbits, but seemed to Frank, from their quick, jerking motions, and their habit of sitting up on their hind-legs, to resemble squirrels more than any other animal. They were as much interested in the travellers as the latter were with them, almost every mound having its occupant sitting up watching them inquisitively. There were four or five dogs with the caravan, and until the novelty had passed off, and they became convinced of the utter futility of the chase, the dogs exhausted themselves in their endeavours to capture the prairie-dogs. These seemed to feel an absolute enjoyment in exasperating the dogs, sitting immovable until the latter were within a few yards of them, and then suddenly disappearing like a flash of lightning down their holes, popping their heads out again and resuming their position on the tops as soon as the dogs had dashed off in another direction. But the prairie-dogs were not the only occupants of the towns; with them, apparently on terms of great friendship, lived a colony of little owls, sharing their abodes, and sitting with them on their hillocks. There were also a third species of inhabitant, and the presence of these caused strict orders to be given to the children not to wander over the ground; these were rattlesnakes, of which, on a sunny afternoon, many could be seen basking on the sand-heaps.