In Utah and Colorado the “haying” time arrives with the height of the summer blooming season. At timberline this usually occurs during August. As though realizing that a hard frost would ruin its delightfully fragrant crop, the pika sets furiously to work. After cutting down as much herbage as it can handle at one time, it gathers the mass into an unwieldy bundle and carries it by mouth to one of the sites it has selected as a curing place. Usually these areas have been used the previous season for the same purpose, and a mass of the least edible stems remain to mark their location. Depositing the load on this base, the pika scurries away for another bundle. Long familiarity with routes across the uneven rocks enables it to make its way with never a misstep, even though the load carried may be of such size that vision to the front is completely obscured. Working early and late the pika distributes its harvest among the various piles. As a result, the hay dries out evenly and when cold weather calls a halt to the work each little stack is perfectly cured without a trace of mildew. The truly monumental work to which this little creature goes is shown by as many as a half dozen haycocks, each of which may contain up to a bushel or more of feed. Comparatively little is known of the pika’s life history. What has been recorded has been noted during those periods when it was seen on the surfaces of rock slides. What goes on deep in the labyrinths of its habitat can only be conjectured. It seems reasonable to suppose that in some subterranean cavity the pika has constructed a comfortable nest lined with soft grasses. Certainly it remains active all winter, although buried under many feet of snow, for in the spring its stacks of hay have been largely consumed. The number of young is thought to range from three to six. They probably are born in early summer, as when they appear on the surface, usually in late July or early August, they are about half grown. Though family ties are closely knit until the young mature, pikas cannot be considered gregarious animals. The scarcity of food alone would be sufficient reason to prohibit large groups in one small area. Each adult takes up squatter’s rights on a territory large enough to support it, and thereafter holds it with but little interference from others of its kind. Few natural enemies prey on the pikas. The very openness of their habitat prevents the larger predators from stealing up unseen. Hawks and eagles account for some, and weasels are able to penetrate their underground maze at will, but the natural fecundity of the species seems to balance these losses very well. To the nature student the pika offers a tempting challenge. It is far from being a rare animal, yet at the same time it is one about which almost nothing is known. As qualifications for learning its secrets, one must be somewhat of a miner and considerable of an arctic explorer.