Well, one Saturday the school had a picnic, and Twinkle and Chubbins both went. On the Dakota prairies there are no shade-trees at all, and very little water except what they get by boring deep holes in the ground; so you may wonder where the people could possibly have a picnic. But about three miles from the town a little stream of water (which they called a "river," but we would call only a brook) ran slow and muddy across the prairie; and where the road crossed it a flat bridge had been built. If you climbed down the banks of the river you would find a nice shady place under the wooden bridge; and so here it was that the picnics were held. All the village went to the picnic, and they started bright and early in the morning, with horses and farm-wagons, and baskets full of good things to eat, and soon arrived at the bridge. There was room enough in its shade for all to be comfortable; so they unhitched the horses and carried the baskets to the river bank, and began to laugh and be as merry as they could. Twinkle and Chubbins, however, didn't care much for the shade of the bridge. This was a strange place to them, so they decided to explore it and see if it was any different from any other part of the prairie. Without telling anybody where they were going, they took hold of hands and trotted across the bridge and away into the plains on the other side. The ground here wasn't flat, but had long rolls to it, like big waves on the ocean, so that as soon as the little girl and boy had climbed over the top of the first wave, or hill, those by the river lost sight of them. [Illustration: TWINKLE AND CHUBBINS START TO EXPLORE] They saw nothing but grass in the first hollow, but there was another hill just beyond, so they kept going, and climbed over that too. And now they found, lying in the second hollow, one of the most curious sights that the western prairies afford. "What is it?" asked Chubbins, wonderingly. "Why, it's a Prairie-Dog Town," said Twinkle. [Illustration] Chapter II Prairie-Dog Town Lying in every direction, and quite filling the little hollow, were round mounds of earth, each one having a hole in the center. The mounds were about two feet high and as big around as a wash-tub, and the edges of the holes were pounded hard and smooth by the pattering feet of the little creatures that lived within. "Isn't it funny!" said Chubbins, staring at the mounds. "Awful," replied Twinkle, staring too. "Do you know, Chub, there are an'mals living in every single one of those holes?" "What kind?" asked Chubbins. "Well, they're something like squirrels, only they _aren't_ squirrels," she explained. "They're prairie-dogs." "Don't like dogs," said the boy, looking a bit uneasy. "Oh, they're not dogs at all," said Twinkle; "they're soft and fluffy, and gentle." "Do they bark?" he asked. "Yes; but they don't bite." "How d' you know, Twink?"