4. Cliff chipmunk (_Eutamias dorsalis_)

[Illustration: cliff chipmunk]

Range: North and western Utah extending through southeastern Arizona and

western New Mexico. Found mainly in the Upper Sonoran Zone. Total length

8⅘ to 9½ inches. Tail 3⅘ to 4½ inches. _The most indistinctly striped of

any of these chipmunks._

Generally speaking, chipmunks are the link between ground squirrels and

tree squirrels. Physically they have characteristics of both groups, a

combination that is pleasing indeed. A field mark that is a positive

identification of the chipmunk group is the striped face. In addition to

facial stripes, chipmunks also are striped along the back. The pattern

consists of a dark to black median line bordered by two more similar

lines of varying intensity along each side. These fine lines are

separated by broader bands of contrasting color ranging from chestnut to

white. The latter characteristic is shared by several of the ground

squirrels, which often are confused with chipmunks. Predominant colors

of southwestern chipmunks run to rufous, chestnut, and grayish white

with the dark to black lines mentioned above. Underparts are always

considerably lighter than the back. Chipmunks’ tails are usually shorter

than their bodies, flattened horizontally, and short haired when

compared with tree squirrels. All species have cheek pouches of

considerable capacity.

As will be seen from ranges given above, habitat of the chipmunks

encompasses the whole area from sagebrush-covered foothills to

timberline. Their densest population, however, is to be found in thick

forest about midway between these two extremes. Here their bright colors

and sprightly actions do much to enliven somber surroundings. Despite

their wonderful climbing ability, they are most often seen at ground

level or just a little higher. They are fond of areas containing fallen

trees. The prostrate trunks serve admirably as highways for their forays

in search of food, and under the litter which accumulates around them

are many havens into which a hard pressed chipmunk may pop when pursued

by an enemy. The territory appropriated by each of these little

creatures is explored with the most minute care, and all places of

refuge are noted for future emergencies. Any attempt to chase them will

reveal their uncanny memory for these temporary hiding places and that

they are seldom at any great distance from one.

Their permanent homes usually are underground, excavated beneath the

roots of trees or in rocky terrain. At the end of a narrow tunnel a room

of considerable size is worked out. The dirt is often carried out by a

side tunnel, which is permanently plugged with soil when the excavation

is completed. The underground chamber is lined with soft grasses and

fibers as insulation against the cold. At the higher elevations the

ground may freeze to a depth of several feet during the long winters.

Permanent nests are sometimes built in hollow logs, but almost never in

holes in upright trees. Chipmunks have little taste for upstairs

apartments. In addition to the large cavity which contains the nest,

several storage chambers are constructed to hold the winter’s food.

These may be connected to the main apartment by tunnels or may be

entirely independent of living quarters and some distance away. As a

special feature, many of the more elaborate homes have a separate

chamber reserved for sanitary purposes. Like most of our native rodents,

chipmunks are fastidiously clean in their habits.

It is difficult to discuss the habits of a group as large and of such

wide distribution as our southwestern chipmunks in any but a most

superficial manner. In general they are much more terrestrial than

squirrels and prefer brushy, rock terrain to the more open forests

frequented by their larger relatives. Nevertheless, they are adept

climbers and do not hesitate to take to the trees in search of food or

to escape their enemies. These arboreal excursions are usually limited

to one tree; they do not ordinarily attempt the daring leaps from one to

another that are characteristic of the squirrels. They progress quietly

while on the ground, threading their way through the undergrowth so

expertly that their presence is often undetected.

Normally chipmunks are shy creatures at first acquaintance, but if their

friendship is encouraged they often become bold to the point of being

unwelcome. Woe to the camper whose grub box is invaded during his

absence. These tiny opportunists can carry away a surprising amount of

food in a very short while. Their natural diet differs widely according

to habitat. Chipmunks of the foothills eat a great variety of grass

seeds, berries, and cactus fruits. These are possibly the favorite foods

of the whole group, but as the elevation increases this supply becomes

limited and is supplemented by juniper berries, acorns, and pine nuts.

Considerable quantities of these less perishable foods are laid away for

future needs. During the summer months herbage, fungi, small tubers, and

some insects add variety to an otherwise dry menu.

It is doubtful if any southwestern chipmunks enter true hibernation

during the winter. Those of lower elevations are active throughout the

colder months, except when a period of exceptionally inclement weather

will force them to remain underground for a few days. At higher

elevations they will disappear, perhaps for weeks at a time, but it is

assumed they remain active in their underground quarters. The fact that

during the fall they do not lay on a coat of fat, like many species

which are known to hibernate, substantiates this theory.

Breeding habits of chipmunks are not too well known. The number of young

averages from four to six. Those species living at low elevation

sometimes bear two litters each year; those at higher elevations are

limited to one. Like the ground squirrels, the young are able to leave

the burrow when but little more than half grown. At this early age they

present a rather ludicrous appearance with their large heads and

sparsely-haired tails. This is a time of great danger, for the

youngsters are easily caught by predators which would be eluded with

little difficulty by a mature individual. Principal predators of the

chipmunks are bobcats, hawks, foxes, and coyotes. The last two often dig

out the burrows. The marten is possibly their worst enemy, but

fortunately for the chipmunk tribe is a rare animal throughout its

range.

Chipmunks are quite common in several of our southwestern National Parks

and Monuments. Despite signs to the contrary, the public cannot resist

feeding these little beggars, and many are the situations that develop

from this practice. I recall camping at Bryce Canyon National Park where

the least chipmunk is a common resident. Upon our return from Rainbow

Point one day we spied a chipmunk with bulging cheek pouches leaving our

tent for its den somewhere on the edge of the canyon rim. We found that

our visitor had entered the grub box and gnawed a neat hole in the top

of a carton of rice. Although we had been gone but a short time, more

than half the contents had already been carried away. This was a state

of affairs that needed mending so we decided to teach the marauder a

lesson. On his return trip we waited until he had entered the carton and

then clapped a dishtowel over the hole. The cellophane window in the

side of the carton gave us an excellent view of our prisoner.

Interrupted in his pilfering, he at first tried to get out of the carton

but, finding no exit, returned to stuffing his cheek pouches with more

rice. When they were filled to capacity he calmly sat back and returned

stare for stare. In the end we let him go and gave him the rest of the

rice, exacting such payment as we could by taking pictures of his

labors.

Golden-mantled ground squirrel

_Citellus lateralis_ (Latin: citellus, swift, and lateralis, belonging

to the side, referring to the stripe along the side)

Range: Western United States and Canada. In the area covered by this

book to be found in western Colorado, from northeastern Utah south

through central Utah to central Arizona thence east into western New

Mexico.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: Higher mountains of this area. Usually found in evergreen

forests of the Transition, Hudsonian, and Canadian Life Zones. It

sometimes occurs near the upper limits of the Upper Sonoran Zone.

Description: A chipmunk-like ground squirrel lacking the stripes along

the sides of the face characteristic of the chipmunks. Total length 8½

to 12½ inches. Tail 2½ to 4½ inches. There is much color variation in

this species. Head coppery to chestnut, upper surfaces of body brownish

gray to buffy. A light to white stripe bordered with black is present on

each side of the back. Under surface of tail gray to yellow. Tail short

but fully haired. Under surfaces of body lighter, gray to buffy gray.

Legs short, body chunky in comparison with chipmunks. Young, four to

eight, with but one litter each year.

The golden-mantled ground squirrel has been chosen from the rather large

group of southwestern ground squirrels because it is most typically a

mountain dwelling species. As such it does not have the advantages of a

long summer season like its lowland relatives. This results in two

definite periods each year. One is feverish activity during summer, a

time of breeding, rearing the young, storing food, and laying on fat for

the cold months ahead. The other in winter is the exact opposite—a long

interval of hibernation when, buried deep under the snow in a snug

burrow, the squirrels sleep away the winter.

Though hampered by the short summers of higher elevations, the

golden-mantled ground squirrels manage to lengthen the season slightly

by a very simple expedient. Instinct prompts them to dig their burrows

on a southern exposure, often under the base of a log or in a rock

slide. Here the snow melts away first and they often have a bare spot of

ground in front of the burrow several weeks in advance of the season.

The squirrels emerge from their long sleep weak and emaciated, and their

first days above ground are spent soaking up the warm sunshine and

waking up, so to speak. During this period they live on stores laid away

the previous summer, and by the time the snow has melted they are fully

active and ready for mating.

[Illustration: golden-mantled ground squirrel]

As with the ground squirrels of lower areas, the summer diet consists

largely of whatever starts to grow first. During late spring, grass,

buds, young leaves, and flowers are eaten. Later, seeds of the annuals

are gathered, berries are taken whenever possible, and insects often

form a considerable part of the diet. As fall comes on, acorns, pine

nuts, and a great number of smaller seeds and fruits become available.

At this time the ground squirrels must not only lay on enough fat to

maintain themselves through hibernation, but must also store away enough

food to tide them over between the time of their emergence and the

appearance of new growth. Evidently this is an adaptation forced upon

them by the exceptionally long winter season. Most rodents which lay on

coats of fat preparatory to hibernation depend almost entirely on it to

carry them through. With a hibernating period of from 5 to 7 months,

however, it is not difficult to realize the problems this ground

squirrel must face.

Though the golden-mantled ground squirrel resembles the chipmunks in

appearance, its temperament is quite different. Chipmunks are bright,

nervous little sprites, always pursuing their activities with explosive

energy. The ground squirrels move more sedately, as though they had

planned every move and there was no hurry. They love to lie in the sun

in some exposed place and watch the rest of the world go by. In habitat,

too, the species differ materially. Chipmunks choose thick undergrowth

where they can go about their business unobserved. Ground squirrels

prefer more exposed locations where they take their chances in the open,

but with one eye always cocked aloft as insurance against attack by hawk

or eagle. Creatures of the earth, they are always reluctant to climb.

Rarely do they ascend more than a few feet, and then only to reach some

especially toothsome delicacy that their keen noses have detected in a

low shrub or small tree.

With its wide distribution, visitors to the southwestern mountains can

hardly fail to notice this golden-headed member of the ground squirrel

family. It is easily tamed; too easily in fact for, like the chipmunk,

it can quickly wear out its welcome. In many of the National Parks and

Monuments they compete with chipmunks for the crumbs around camp sites

and picnic tables. Visitors find their cunning way irresistible and feed

them despite warnings to the contrary. Because they do tame so easily

there is always danger that some well-meaning person will attempt to

pick them up. This can lead to unpleasant results. Their long sharp

incisors can inflict a serious wound.

One of the most fascinating places to observe both chipmunks and these

ground squirrels is from the windows of the long tunnel leading

northward out of Zion National Park. On the talus slopes beneath the

windows a great number of these rodents take up summer quarters,

depending for food on the largesse distributed by visitors as they eat

their picnic lunches on the broad ledges of the windows. Their constant

movements as they run among the rocks seeking stray crumbs result in

many a collision and often an angry dispute as well. This proves a

dangerous game, as rocks sometimes will be loosened by their movements

and roll down the steep incline. I recall seeing a ground squirrel

crushed by one of these miniature rock slides in 1946.

White-tailed prairie dog

_Cynomys gunnisoni_ (Greek: kun, a dog and mys, mouse ... for Captain

Gunnison whose expedition took the type)

[Illustration: white-tailed prairie dog]

Range: Western Colorado and eastern Utah to central Arizona and New

Mexico.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: Grassy meadows and mountain parks mainly in the Transition Life

Zone although they are often found both above and below this area.

Description: A ground-dwelling rodent somewhat resembling a ground

squirrel but several times larger than the biggest species of that

genus. Total length 12½ to 15 inches. Tail 2¼ to 2½ inches. Weight 1½ to

2½ pounds. Color buff to cinnamon buff, the short fully-haired tail

tipped with white. Sides of face darker with a dark area over the eyes.

Legs, feet, and underparts pale cinnamon buff. Young, usually five in

number, born in early summer.

_Cynomys gunnisoni_ is the representative species of the western group

of prairie dogs. The two remaining of the group, _Cynomys leucurus_ and

_Cynomys parvidens_, both white-tailed species, are very similar and

possibly will be classified with _Cynomys gunnisoni_ in the future.

_Cynomys leucurus_ is found in northwestern Colorado and northeastern

Utah, while _Cynomys parvidens_ is native to mountainous valleys in

central Utah.

The common name “white-tailed prairie dog” is usually applied to

_Cynomys gunnisoni_, the most widely distributed member of the race. The

range of this species borders on but seldom overlaps that of the

black-tailed prairie dog which lives farther east and at lower

elevation. Climatic and geographic barriers separating these two races

are largely responsible for pronounced differences in their habits.

Prairie dogs are gregarious creatures, perhaps more so than any other

rodent. Formerly the black-tail species inhabited countless thousands of

acres in the Great Plains region. A single colony might occupy an area

several miles in diameter and number many thousands. On this relatively

flat land, every home site was equally advantageous and the grass and

herbage all ideally suited to the prairie dog’s use. Periodic flooding

of their burrows on these level prairies was avoided by building conical

mounds with a rim of earth around the entrance. This ingenious practice,

simple though it seems, represents a long step in the adaptation of

these animals to their environment.

White-tailed prairie dogs, on the other hand, are limited to the narrow

valleys and infrequent open meadows of the mountains. Here there is

neither room nor food to maintain the huge colonies characteristic of

the black-tailed. Under these conditions the number of individuals in a

town will vary from a few to 200, seldom more. If the town becomes

crowded, many of the inhabitants may migrate to some more favorable

location. This sometimes entails a trip of several miles, a hazardous

undertaking for a small animal whose only escape from large predators is

in an underground burrow.

Food of this mountain prairie dog is varied. The standard diet of grass

and roots is augmented with browse, bark, and tubers. Bulbs of mariposas

are taken wherever available. Coarse-leaved annuals such as sunflowers

are not passed by. In addition to this vegetable diet, worms, beetles,

and larvae as well as mature forms of most insects are eaten whenever

possible.

Burrows of white-tailed prairie dogs, though comfortable, are not made

with the painstaking care found in those of the lowland species. There

is no need for a conical mound or built-up rim because there is

virtually no drainage problem on the sloping terrain of the mountains.

Naturally the burrows will not be excavated in the path of flood waters,

but on higher ground. Earth brought out from the underground workings is

piled to one side or in front of the entrance. The mound thus formed is

used as a place to sun bathe or, even more important, as a look-out post

from which to see all that goes on. Because these small colonies do not

have the advantage of numbers, each individual must be especially alert

to approaching danger. Burrows often have more than one entrance, each

with its well-packed sentry post at hand, the underground plan is

simple. It consists of a more or less vertical shaft from which one or

more tunnels extend horizontally. It is common supposition that the

prairie dog digs deeply enough to strike water. This is not so; many

burrows do not go deeper than 6 feet. In any event, they penetrate just

far enough to insure a comfortable average temperature in both summer

and winter. Water requirements of prairie dogs are met largely by the

succulent nature of their food. It is also presumed that during late

summer months when the diet consists to some extent of seeds, a chemical

process within the system transforms some of the starches to water.

The nest is usually situated in an underground room dug at the end of a

tunnel, less often somewhere along its length. It is a bulky structure,

built of shredded bark or coarse grasses and lined with the softest

fibers obtainable. In these modern days prairie dogs do not object to

paper, rags, and wool.

The life of the prairie dog is simple. Early in the spring it emerges

from hibernation, a bit groggy but still well padded with fat. This

nourishment sustains it until the first green shoots of grass appear.

From then on food is obtainable in an ever increasing supply, limited

only by the distance to which these indifferent runners dare venture

from their burrows. Summer is a time of eating, of dozing on the mounds

in the warm sun, and of conversing with neighbors in the shrill barking

whistles characteristic of this group. It is also a time of constant

vigilance against predators, of dust bathing to rid themselves of mites

and fleas, and of rearing the young. The four to six young are born in

late spring and first appear at the burrow entrance when about the size

of an average adult ground squirrel. Within a few days they are foraging

for themselves, and about 3 weeks later are able to make their own way.

At this time the mother frequently deserts them and builds herself a new

burrow, leaving her offspring to divide the old homestead as best they

can. As fall draws near, a thick coat of fat is put on, and by the

middle of October most of the town’s inhabitants have retired for the

long winter’s sleep.

Yellow-bellied marmot (woodchuck)

_Marmota flaviventris_ (Marmota, Dutch name of European species of

woodchuck. Latin: flavus, yellow, and venter, belly)

Range: Northwestern United States. Common in northern to south central

Utah, northern and southeastern Colorado, and extreme north central New

Mexico.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: Canadian, Hudsonian, and Alpine Life Zones in rock slides,

rocky hillsides, under rock piles, and around outcroppings in mountain

meadows. Seldom found below the Canadian Zone but often occurring in the

Alpine Zone to the very summits of the mountains.

Description: A large, dark, brown marmot with a comparatively long bushy

tail. Total length 19 to 28 inches. Tail 4½ to 9 inches. Body color,

yellowish brown to dark brown above; under parts yellow. The body fur

has a grizzled appearance. Sides of neck buffy, and sides of face dark

brown to black. Light brown to white between the eyes. The feet are buff

to dark brown. Tail dark brown above, lighter below. Young, five to

eight, born in early summer.

This large western marmot is not too far removed from the ground

squirrels in either relationship or habits. It is the largest

ground-dwelling rodent native to the Southwest. As mentioned above,

marmots occupy a tremendous altitudinal range, reaching from above

timberline down into the Transition Life Zone. This distribution from

arctic to almost desert conditions is responsible for many variations in

their habits. Most important is the practice of estivation by those

individuals which live at the lower elevations. This summer sleep is

used as a defense against that period of drought between rainy seasons.

It usually starts early in June and ends about the latter part of July.

In the higher life zones there is no lack of green food throughout the

summer, consequently marmots there remain active.

Because of large size and ability to make good use of its sharp teeth

and claws, the marmot’s life is not so restricted as that of many

smaller ground-dwelling rodents. It has enemies, to be sure. Bears,

mountain lions, wolves, lynxes, wolverines, and eagles all are alert for

a possible catch. Yet it is so well on guard and has so many burrows

that it is next to impossible to catch one above ground. Should the

marmot be surprised away from a burrow, its bold show of defense often

gains enough time to work its way to a place of safety. When cornered

its appearance alone is enough to make the average predator pause and

consider. With hair standing on end and long claws at the ready, the

marmot clatters its sharp teeth and hisses loudly at the enemy. This

pose is not all bluff. These big rodents are courageous and able

adversaries against any animal up to several times their size. As far as

man is concerned, they are timid and secretive. On many an occasion

their loud, full-toned whistles will be heard, but the whistler will be

nowhere in sight. If cornered, however, they will put up the same

courageous defense they display against other enemies, and certainly are

not animals with which to trifle.

Burrows are usually in open places where a good view of the surroundings

is obtained. Too, they are almost always in clefts of rocks, under

boulders, or in coarse rocky soil. This lessens the probability of their

being dug out by some large predator. Each marmot usually will have

several burrows, some being “escape” means and one a permanent home.

Well-worn trails lead from one to another, for these are active animals

which travel extensively within the limits of their territories. Escape

burrows may be deep or shallow, as circumstances dictate, but the home

burrow generally is a labyrinth of long passages that terminate in a

nest chamber up to 2 feet across. Several auxiliary tunnels are usually

reserved for sanitary purposes. None is used for food storage; records

indicate that this creature does not lay up stores for later use. The

nest is the usual bulky affair, built of coarse materials and lined with

the softest grasses and fibers obtainable.

Late to bed and early to rise is characteristic of the marmots. Classed

as a diurnal animal, they nevertheless travel about a good deal at dusk.

During the breeding season they may even make an extended trip at night

to find a mate. Sunrise signals the beginning of the marmot’s day. The

slanting rays have no more than touched the boulder above its burrow

before the inmate will climb up to take advantage of their warmth. It

may stay atop its vantage point for an hour or more. There are many

things a marmot can attend to while taking the early morning sunbath. A

leisurely toilette, whistled comments to neighbors, a long scrutiny of

the terrain for possible danger—all these are matters requiring thorough

attention.

[Illustration: yellow-bellied marmot]

Should this procedure be interrupted by a prowling enemy, excitement

runs high. If the intruder is still some distance away, the marmot often

will stand up on its hind legs, picket pin fashion. Each explosive

whistle will be accompanied by several flicks of the tail. When it is

judged time to retire it will dash for its burrow, making sharp chirps

as it goes. Once inside the burrow it may chance another look outside,

and if the caller looks menacing enough the burrow entrance will be

plugged with earth from inside, the chirps becoming fainter as the

barricade is forced into place. Emergence from the burrow after a fright

of this kind is governed to some extent by the time of year. If it is

autumn and the marmot is about ready to hibernate, it may go to sleep in

its cozy nest and not reappear until the next day. Even in spring and

summer it will remain underground for a considerable time before

venturing out again.

The marmot is by nature a stocky animal. Short-legged and barrel-bodied,

it can lay on a surprising amount of fat for the period of hibernation.

Length of this winter sleep depends on the elevation at which the animal

lives. On the higher mountain tops it begins about October 1. At lower

elevations it may be considerably later. Older individuals usually go

into hibernation first, presumably because they are able to lay on the

necessary fat sooner than younger ones. As a rule they retire by stages,

disappearing for several days at a time; their movements are lethargic

and they act as if already half asleep. The young of the year have spent

the greater part of the summer growing up, and it is rather a grim race

with time to determine whether they will be able to put on enough fat to

carry them through the long winter with a reserve supply, or whether

they can survive the cold weather that greets them. Especially at the

higher elevations, they do not retire until forced to do so by cold

weather.

Hibernation is as profound with these big rodents as with many of the

ground squirrels. They will curl up into furry balls in their cozy

nests, noses covered with fluffy tails, and sink into a deep sleep that

approaches suspended animation. Bodily functions slow to a fraction of

the normal rate, and the system draws on its store of fat to survive.

The drain on this nourishment is slow, as it necessarily must be, for

this single source of food must last for a period of perhaps 5 months.

The date of emergence varies. Although February 2nd is recognized as

groundhog day on our calendar, this date would be chilly indeed on the

peaks of our Southwest mountains. Nevertheless, the marmots do appear

before the snow is entirely gone, and once their sleep has ended they

rarely resume it, whether or not they see their shadows.

Breeding takes place shortly after emergence. The young are born in

April or May. They are born blind; the eyes do not open until about a

month after birth. The youngsters develop rapidly, and by the time they

are half grown a daily session of sunbathing and playful tussles outside

the entrance of the den is part of their routine. By September they are

fully grown, and at this time they usually strike out for themselves,

although cases have been recorded in which the family remained together

through the first winter’s hibernation.

Marmots have always been favorites of this writer. Their clear-toned

whistle is as much a symbol of the rugged peaks and lovely fir-rimmed

mountain meadows as the coyote’s barks are of the desert. Several

writers characterize marmots as “stupid.” Surely this is an unfortunate

choice of word. Stupid by what standards? Can one species be compared

with another when all must live under the different conditions to which

they have adapted themselves? The mere fact that a balance of Nature has

been attained indicates that each has the adaptations, the habits, and

the degree of intelligence necessary for that species to live in harmony

with the whole.

Deermouse (white-footed mouse)

The genus _Peromyscus_ (Greek: pera, pouch, and muscus, diminutive of

mys, mouse)

[Illustration: deermouse]

Range: All life zones throughout North America.

Habitat: Some species of deermouse can be found in almost any

association imaginable.

Description: A large-eared mouse with white feet. Since there are many

species in this genus and most of them are quite similar,

characteristics common to the greatest number will be given. Bear in

mind that these may not hold true with every species of the genus.

Deermice are rather small, averaging 7 to 8 inches long. Tail 3 to 4

inches. Most species are a buffy gray above shading to brighter buff on

the sides and light buff to white beneath. Feet are always white. The

ears are large for a mouse, usually sparsely covered with short, fine

hairs, but in some species almost naked. Eyes appear black but have a

brownish shade when viewed closely in a good light. Tail long, up to the

length of head and body, as a rule sparsely haired; bicolor in some

species. Young, four to six, born almost any time of the year, with

several litters except at higher elevations where only one litter may be

born, and this during late spring.

In the Southwest the mild climate and plentiful food supply of the lower

life zones combine to attract a great number of small rodents. By far

the greater number of species is found in the Upper and Lower Sonoran

Zones. This does not mean that mice are rare in the high mountains. They

live there in great numbers, but of fewer species. One is the

long-tailed deermouse (_Peromyscus maniculatus_), probably the most

outstanding member of the genus, and the most widely distributed mouse

in the United States. As might be expected, it is quite variable in

appearance, having at least three distinct color phases. These vary from

golden tan to a dark gray. All phases have a sharper bicolor tail, white

beneath and like the rest of the upper body on top.

The deermouse is well known to those who are fortunate enough to own

summer cabins in the mountains. This is the little rodent which moves

into the cabin as soon as the vacationer departs. Fortunately it is not

so destructive as the common house mouse (which, by the way, is an

introduced species) and limits its destructiveness for the most part to

building a large and comfortable nest in which to live during the winter

months. Deermice do not hibernate, so they must prepare against the

bitter cold. However, it is not their habit to store food either, and

doubtless many of them starve to death over a hard winter.

Mountain vole

_Microtus montanus_ (Latin: small ear ... of the mountains)

[Illustration: mountain vole]

Range: The mountainous regions of northwestern United States extending

eastward to central Colorado and southward below the northern borders of

Arizona and New Mexico.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: Valleys and grassy meadows seldom lower than the Transition

Zone.

Description: A small sturdy rodent with short tail, total length 5½ to

7½ inches. Tail 1½ to 2½ inches. This is a very short tail for a rodent

of this size, amounting to only about a fourth of the total length.

Color, grayish brown to black above; underparts lighter to a silvery

gray. This is but one of many species found in southwestern mountains.

The Mexican vole and the long-tailed vole are two which share its range.

They are quite similar in appearance and their life histories also are

much the same.

In several ways this heavy-set rodent resembles the pocket gopher. The

small ears and eyes as well as the short tail are all reminiscent of

that animal. Like many other rodents, voles are quite prolific. From

four to eight young are born in a litter. The number of litters each

year depends to a great extent on the altitude. They have been recorded

in the Canadian Zone, where the summers are too short to permit the

rearing of more than one litter. In the Transition Life Zone they

commonly bear two litters and sometimes more each year.

These are the small rodents which most people call “field” or “meadow”

mice. In the prairie states this genus is well known for its habit of

congregating under shocks of small grain and corn. Here they build their

nests and temporarily live in peace and plenty. When the shocks are

taken from the field, they are rudely evicted from their snug shelters

to fall prey to the farmer’s dog or to face the prospect of building a

new home before winter descends upon them. In the West, too, this “field

mouse” makes itself at home in agricultural areas, but its native haunts

are the natural meadows in mountain valleys. Here they build tunnels in

the tangled growth of grass, and excavate shallow burrows in the soft

earth. Marshy places are particularly to their liking, because they are

quite at home in water. Too, the thick cover in these areas gives them

considerable protection from their many enemies. A normally high

reproduction rate (several litters per year with up to eight young in

each litter) coupled with a secretive way of life insures their

perpetuation. In cases where a natural balance has been upset, their

population can soar to fantastic heights. In one agricultural district

in Nevada a survey revealed an estimated 8,000 to 12,000 “field mice”

per acre.

Voles do not hibernate. They are active night and day, summer and

winter. During winter storms they may remain in their snug nests for a

few days at a time, but with the return of clear weather, openings to

their tunnels will soon appear in freshly fallen snow.

Western jumping mouse

_Zapus princeps_ (Greek: za, intensive and pous, foot. Latin: princeps,

chief)

Range: Western United States from central Arizona and New Mexico to

Alaska.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: High mountains in dry places with abundant low ground cover.

Description: A small rodent, two-toned in color, that leaps through the

grass much like a kangaroo rat. Total length 8 to 10 inches. Tail 4½ to

6 inches. Color buffy along sides, shading to almost black on the back

and white on the underparts and feet. Tail bi-color, dark above and

light gray beneath. Ears relatively long, dark in color with light buffy

marginal lines. Eyes beady, set in long face with sharp nose. Front legs

short but hind legs and feet large and muscular. Young, four to six in a

litter, with no more than one litter a year in the higher elevations.

The jumping mice are among the most specialized small rodents in the

United States. The genus is typically North American, only one species

being found outside this continent. At some time in the distant past

this little creature adapted itself to a mode of flight much like that

of the kangaroo and jerboa. In this respect it exceeds the kangaroo rats

and pocket mice of the United States, species to which it is distantly

related. Its general build is distinctly like that of the kangaroo, with

the same delicately formed front quarters and heavier hind quarters. The

tail, though not club-shaped like the kangaroo’s, is long enough to

serve the same purpose—that of a rudder to guide the direction of

flight. The hindlegs are muscular enough to propel the body on

proportionally longer jumps than even the kangaroo. Here the resemblance

ceases, however, for the jumping mouse is not related, even distantly,

to this marsupial. The only pouches the jumping mice have are internal

cheek pouches used exclusively for transportation of food.

Jumping mice have one more peculiarity that set them apart from most

other North American mice; they hibernate. The period of hibernation is

not a short one at the elevations at which these mice live. It may last

for as long as 6 months. Preparation for this extensive period of

inactivity consists mainly in gathering and eating grass seeds until a

thick layer of fat is stored under the skin. With the first cold weather

the jumping mice retire to previously prepared underground burrows and

sleep the winter away.

Since they are almost exclusively seed eaters, they may have a difficult

time on emerging in the spring. Apparently there is no food cache stored

away for this period, so the hapless rodents must search for what can be

found until the grasses head out again. The method of harvesting grass

seed is unique, and once seen will not be easily mistaken. Living as

they do in a jungle of tall grass, they are not able to reach the heads

nor to climb the slender stems. Instead, they cut off the stem as high

as they can reach, pull the upper part down to the ground and cut it

again. This goes on until the head is brought within reach. Small piles

of grass stems, all cut to an average length, indicate that this is the

species which has been at work.

Jumping mice seldom will be seen except when in flight. Then their

jack-in-the-box tactics make it almost impossible to determine what they

are really like. They are timid, inoffensive little creatures which, if

caught, will seldom offer to bite.

Bushy-tailed woodrat

_Neotoma cinerea_ (Greek: neos, new and temnien, to cut ... Latin:

cinereus, ashy)

Range: Mountainous portions of western North America from Alaska south

to central California, northern Arizona and New Mexico.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: Found usually in association with the pines of the Transition

and Canadian Life Zones; crevices in cliffs and among rock slides are

favorite nesting sites.

Description: This woodrat will be recognized at once by its bushy,

squirrel-like tail. The several other species in the same range have the

usual scanty growth on the tail, so thin as to be almost unnoticeable.

This species is large for a woodrat; total length ranges from 12½ to 18

inches. Tail 5½ to 8 inches. The soft, thick fur shows wide variation in

color, as might be expected from the great range occupied by this

species with its many subspecies. In general it varies from ashy to

cinnamon above, to pure white on the underparts. Although the head has

the same general shape as that of other woodrats, its appearance is

altered somewhat by long, silky whiskers up to 4 inches in length, and

extremely large ears. The dark, beady eyes, however, are typical of the

genus. The young, from two to six, are born in early summer. This

average of four or possibly less, when the breeding habits of all the

subspecies are taken into consideration, seems low when compared with

other small rodents. The low death rate indicated probably is due not

only to this species’ secretive habits but to a high order of native

intelligence as well.

[Illustration: bushy-tailed woodrat]

Many are the names applied to this interesting little animal. “Mountain

rat,” “pack rat,” “trade rat,” and woodrat are some of the most common.

Several stem from the supposition that when the animal takes an article

that suits its fancy, it always replaces it with something which it

supposes to be of equal value. Observation of the creature’s habits will

indicate that these “trades” are entirely by chance. These animals are

continually carrying small objects about and often drop one in favor of

another more to their liking. The fact is that the most attractive items

usually are carried to the vicinity of the nest, and so the scientific

name of one of the subspecies is perhaps one of the most appropriate for

this industrious collector. This subspecific title is _orolestes_, which

translated from the Greek means _oros_, mountain, and _lestes_, robber.

The penchant for carrying away another’s property leads to many

incidents both comic and tragic. The rats are not at all averse to

sharing a prospector’s cabin, and during hours when the rightful owner

is away at work raise havoc with his possessions. During long winter

nights they are no less industrious, and the mysterious sounds of their

activities will keep even a sound sleeper awake for hours. Eventually

this becomes so exasperating that drastic action is called for. One old

prospector told me of a woodrat that had been bothering him for a long

time. Traps proved of no avail and finally one night he placed his

forty-five on a box beside his bed, together with a candle and matches.

During the night he was again awakened and quietly sat up and lighted

the candle. There on one of his cupboard shelves was the dim form of the

rat. Taking careful aim in the flickering candlelight, he pulled the

trigger and hit the animal “dead center.” The heavy slug literally blew

it apart. Unfortunately it happened to be sitting directly in front of a

5-pound can of coffee. One may assume that without either woodrat or

coffee he slept soundly thereafter.

My own experiences with this species have been no less exasperating.

When but a youth, my brother and I were quartered in an old bunkhouse

one winter. We chose the smaller of the two rooms as being easier to

keep warm, and after a thorough clean-up moved in. No rank novices, we

wired our watches to a nail driven into the wall and hung our other

valuables from a wire stretched across the room. In the morning our

socks were missing! Thereafter matters were uneventful for a week. The

woodrat would come up through a hole in the corner of the room as soon

as the lights were out. All night long it would make trips through the

connecting door into the adjoining room and carry away loads of cotton

from an old mattress on the unused bed.

Came the week-end and the Saturday barn dance about 3 miles up the

canyon. Fresh shirts and trousers donned, coats and vests were taken

from the chair backs upon which they had been carefully hung. Behold!

One vest front was completely chewed out and carried away, presumably

for nesting material. This was the last straw; the creature must be done

away with.

On the following night plans were laid with care. Two 5-gallon oil cans

were placed in the doorway. This left a narrow passageway just wide

enough to accommodate a small jump trap. A piece of newspaper was placed

over the trap and the end of the chain wired to the head of the steel

bedstead. A short time after the lights were put out, a scratching noise

indicated that the animal had come in through the hole. All was quiet

until its nose came into contact with one of the empty cans. Then snap!

A series of squeaks and the rattle of the chain gave warning that the

creature was climbing into bed. As it came in over the head, the wildly

excited occupants left by the foot. When the light was struck the rat

was sitting in the middle of the bed. A heavy boot soon dispatched it

and a semblance of order again returned to the bunkhouse. Strange to

say, no more woodrats came in for the remainder of the season.

Although such experiences are the rule when this rat has moved into a

dwelling, it is a delightful creature in its native haunts. It is a rim

rock dweller; that is, it likes best to build its nest far back in some

deep crevice of a cliff. If such a location is not available it may find

a protected site in a talus slope or even among the roots of a tree.

Usually these natural fortresses are further reinforced by the addition

of a pile of sticks and miscellaneous materials piled helter skelter

over the nest. The nest itself is quite large, usually a foot or more in

diameter, built of the softest and warmest materials at hand. Somewhere

adjacent to the nest will be found one or more caches of food against

the time when the snows are deep and famine stalks the land. As has been

mentioned, the woodrat is usually associated with the pines of the

Transition Life Zone and above, and pine nuts are one of its most

popular items of food. Acorns, seeds, berries, stone fruits, and some

vegetation round out its vegetable diet. It will also eat meat whenever

available although, except for insects, shows little inclination to kill

its own. With such a varied menu, it seems entirely proper to call this

rodent omnivorous.

One of the most characteristic marks of the woodrat’s home is a strong,

musky odor. This is not an indication of uncleanliness. The animal is

most fastidious in its toilette but has this body odor in large measure.

A study skin will retain a strong trace of it for many years. Whether it

functions for an identification to others of the species is not known,

but it could well serve this purpose.

Although classed as a nocturnal animal, the bushy-tailed woodrat is

often active throughout the daylight hours. They are not gregarious

creatures; yet, since suitable nesting sites may not be found in some

areas, other more favored localities often will harbor considerable

numbers of the animals. Overhanging ledges may shelter the piles of

litter denoting a nest every few feet. In such cases, a well-worn trail

will lead from one to the other. This is not an indication that a colony

lives there in peace and harmony. These rats are truculent creatures

among themselves, and if a stranger should venture into a nest mound, he

is evicted with many indignant squeaks and a fearsome snapping of teeth.

The interloper seems to know he is out of order and usually leaves the

nest at once without more than a token show of resistance. In neutral

territory such as a cabin, however, several woodrats may share the area

quite peacefully, but to the great annoyance of the human occupant.

The variety of sounds produced by such a group is quite amazing. Added

to the usual high-pitched squeaks and patter of running feet are the

mysterious rustlings of paper and other objects being dragged about. A

peculiar thumping sound indicates a gait which I have never seen but

often heard at night. It must be somewhat like the leaping flight of a

kangaroo rat, at least it indicates a swift succession of leaps across a

flat surface such as a floor or roof. Perhaps the broad surface

presented by the flat of the bushy tail is of assistance in this

maneuver. Then, like most rodents, the woodrat will thump with its hind

legs as an alarm signal. This is perhaps the most noticeable sound of

all, for it marks the instant cessation of all activity for every member

of its kind within hearing distance. The “ear-splitting silence” that

follows this signal literally presses in on one in the darkness.

Muskrat

_Ondatra zibethicus_ (French Canadian word from the Iroquois and Huron

Indian word for muskrat. Latin: the odorous substance of the civet

alluding to the musk secreted by the muskrat)

Range: Virtually all of North America north of the Mexican border.

Muskrats are found from near sea level to as high as 10,000 feet above

it.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: This large rodent can exist only near a permanent water supply

which is deep enough to shelter it from its enemies. This may be a lake,

a marsh, or a running stream.

Description: A large aquatic rodent whose long, flat tail undulates from

side to side when it swims. Total length 18 to 25 inches. Tail 8 to 11

inches. Weight 2 to 4 pounds. The thick, dark brown fur of the upper

body is overlaid with brown to black guard hairs. The legs are short but

powerful. The front feet are small, but the hind feet are relatively

large and partially webbed, with stiff hairs on the edges of the webs

and along the sides of the toes. The long, black tail is flattened

vertically. It is so scantily haired that it may be said to be naked,

but is covered with small scales up to 2 millimeters in diameter. The

head is quite similar to that of a vole. The ears are so short as to

barely protrude through the fur, and the eyes are small. Average number

of young thought to be six per litter. Several litters may be born each

year.

The presence of muskrats in a shallow lake or marsh is not difficult to

detect. This is their chosen habitat, and here in water about 1½ feet

deep, they build their characteristic mounds of rushes and cat-tails.

Here they may also be seen on quiet days swimming about and carrying on

their normal activities. In much of the Southwest, however, such

favorite habitats are few and far between and the muskrats must take

their choice, if there be one, between the few permanent streams and

irrigation canals. In these altered circumstances they react quite

differently; they may often be present in considerable numbers without

anyone being the wiser. The change in habits required by this different

environment illustrates the great adaptability exhibited by many of our

most common mammal species.

The most important requirement of a muskrat is a permanent body of water

of a depth sufficient for it to dive into and escape from its enemies.

Given this, it will at once set about constructing a home. In a lake or

marsh, there is little or no current. In sheltered bays, where wave

action is slight, the bottom often will be muddy. In the shallow water

along the shore, water plants such as tules and cattails will become

established. This is indeed muskrat heaven, for these and other aquatic

plants are both their food and building materials. The most edible

portions of the plants are the roots and the stem portions which are

below the surface of the mud. When one of these choice tidbits has been

cut free by the muskrat’s sharp teeth, it is carried to some favorite

place to be eaten. This may be a mud bar well sheltered by overhanging

vegetation from prying eyes, the end of a log projecting above the

surface of the water, or perhaps the roof of the “house.” The discarded

portion of the stem is buoyant and usually lodges among the remaining

plants until needed for building purposes.

[Illustration: muskrat]

When the muskrat house is being built, a great quantity of this flotsam

is piled up until the resultant mound may project as much as 3 feet

above the water and be 5 or 6 feet in diameter. The nest is built above

the waterline in this half-submerged “haystack.” Entrance to the living

quarters is by a tunnel which usually starts through the mud a short

distance from the base of the house, goes under the edge of the

structure, then inclines upward to the nest. Only one entrance is

necessary for even if some enemy should tear through the tangle of

rushes deep enough to reach the nest, it would take so long that every

inmate could easily escape by this submarine route. The house serves one

more important purpose in the far north. When the ice lies thick over

the marsh and seals this water world away from air, the muskrats can

still take short forays under the ice for food and return again to free

air, without which no mammal can exist.

Had the muskrat learned to build dams such as beavers construct, the

species might very well be near extinction in the Southwest, since such

structures would seriously interfere with irrigation. However, since

they have accepted conditions as they are, the muskrats do very well for

themselves in the shallow streams and irrigation ditches. In fact, their

population under the adverse conditions of today is probably far above

that of the days before the white man arrived on the scene. Do not

assume from this statement that a whole new way of life has been opened

up for the muskrat. There has always been a “bank” muskrat that lived in

burrows in the stream banks. This fast-water addict has now taken full

advantage of the artificial streams that are the forerunners of

agriculture almost everywhere in the Southwest. The burrows built into

the canal banks seem to be identical with those constructed under

natural conditions.

The “bank” muskrat builds three types of shelters, each with a definite

and necessary function. These might be called the feeding burrow, the

shelter burrow, and the breeding burrow, respectively. The first two are

simple in design and have few variations, but the breeding burrow may be

extremely complex. If a choice is available, all burrows will be in a

bank along the swiftest flow of water, as on the outside of a curve in

the canal, for instance. This prevents the entrances from silting shut

as they would in the more quiet reaches.

There are two types of feeding burrows. The first and more common

consists of a cut made just above water level in the side of a vertical

bank. If possible, it is behind a portiere of hanging grass or weeds, so

as to be completely screened from view. This is merely a safe place to

which the muskrat can take its food and eat without being bothered by

enemies. The second type of feeding burrow is more elaborate, consisting

of several such chambers along the bank connected by short tunnels.

These seem to be community shelters since they are used by several

individuals at the same time. The added safety provided by the

connecting tunnels seems to be the advantage in this type of dining

room.

The shelter burrow not only affords escape from enemies, but may be a

sleeping burrow as well. It consists of two tunnels which start at

different levels under water and join just before they reach the main

chamber, which of course, is above water level. The two tunnels assure

an escape route if one or the other is invaded by an enemy. Each muskrat

may have several of these shelter burrows. The one used as a sleeping

burrow will be furnished with a soft nest of shredded leaves. Cattail

leaves are a favorite material for this purpose. Wet, green cattail

leaves in a damp underground cavern make a poor bed by most standards,

but no doubt, it seems a dry, cozy retreat to the muskrat as it emerges

dripping from its underwater tunnel.

The breeding burrows are large and elaborate in design. There is reason

to believe they are not always the work of one individual. They may even

represent combined efforts of several generations of muskrats. Often

they are a labyrinth of tunnels connecting many nesting chambers, each

with a nest of different age. This can be determined by the yellowing of

the shredded leaves. As might be expected, there are usually a number of

tunnels leading from this maze into the water. A half dozen of these

underwater entrance tunnels is not unusual. All this room gives the

young a place to exercise before they are able to take to the water.

Young muskrats are surprisingly precocious. They are able to leave the

nest when very small, and at 4 weeks of age are weaned and capable of

taking care of themselves, although only about one-fourth grown. At this

stage, they are peculiar looking little individuals. The fur is still in

the woolly stage, dark and bluish in color. The guard hairs have not yet

appeared, and altogether they have an unkempt appearance. This rapidly

disappears, however, when they leave the burrow. Their progress is so

rapid that young born early in the spring are believed to breed during

the following fall.

Though ordinarily confined to the immediate vicinity of water, muskrats

sometimes are found in amazing places. The urge to travel sometimes

influences them to go across country for many miles to some other body

of water. They may also become overcrowded in an area so that food

becomes scarce and some may leave on that account. It is not uncommon in

the Middle West for them to burrow into a farmer’s root cellar in early

fall and spend months in this haven of warmth and good food before they

are discovered. Floods may carry them many miles away from established

haunts and leave them stranded on high ground when the waters recede. A

muskrat found in this predicament is not an animal with which to trifle.

If it cannot escape by water, it will probably elect to make a stand.

The long, sharp incisors are formidable weapons indeed, and any enemy,

including man, had best allow judgment to become the better part of

valor.

The tracks of muskrats are so characteristic that they cannot be

mistaken for those of any other animal. Strangely enough they resemble

to a striking degree those of certain types of extinct reptiles called

dinosaurs. The tracks of the two small front feet are close together and

overlapped somewhat by those of the larger hind feet. Between the tracks

is the sinuous trail left by the sharp-edged tail.

Beaver

_Castor canadensis_ (Latin: a beaver ... from Canada)

Range: The beaver, like the muskrat, can be found almost everywhere in

North America north of the Mexican border.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: Near any water supply of enough volume, with or without

damming, to provide security for a beaver family.

Description: The largest North American rodent; further distinguished by

having a broad flat tail. Total length 34 to 40 inches. Tail 9 to 10

inches. Weight from 30 to 60 pounds. In color the beaver varies from a

deep, rich brown in the northern states to a much paler shade in desert

regions of the Southwest. The soft, rich underfur is partially concealed

by coarse, rather stiff guard hairs. The brown color of the upper parts

shades to a chestnut under the belly and on the inner sides of the legs.

The forefeet are small with well developed claws. They appear naked but

have a scanty cover of coarse hairs. The hind feet are large and webbed,

and are similarly covered with a few coarse hairs.

The body of the beaver has somewhat the appearance of a kangaroo in that

the rear portion is heavy and appear overdeveloped in comparison with

the more stream-lined head and forequarters. Much of this impression is

gained from the heavy, flat tail which is thick and muscular at the

point where it joins the body. One of the most useful appendages

possessed by any creature, the tail is paddled-shaped horizontally and

about an inch thick in the middle, tapering to thin edges and tip. It

appears naked, but is covered with scales.

The young, averaging four in number, are born in the late spring and,

although they are soon able to take care of themselves, the family

remains together for most of the year.

Indications of beavers in an area are their dams or the distinctive

stumps left by their tree felling. Beaver tracks are seldom found.

Although this aquatic animal often leaves the water, and may go a

considerable distance overland, its tracks usually are obliterated by

the passage of the heavy rump and the dragging tail.

The beaver, perhaps as much as any other factor, was instrumental in

opening up western America to civilization. Even before the Thirteen

Original Colonies had become firmly established along the eastern

seaboard, venturesome men were working westward in search of more beaver

to supply the ever-increasing demand for this soft-rich fur. Industrial

empires were founded on this traffic in skins which came from as far

west as the Mississippi River. By the early 1800’s, the trappers had

penetrated to the Rocky Mountains, and in 1806, upon the return of the

Lewis and Clark Expedition from the Pacific Northwest, they swarmed to

the headwaters of the Missouri River system. Prior to this, the

Southwest had been given little attention by the fur industry. It was

considered an inhospitable region, inhabited by hostile Indians, and

with a few settlements of Spanish colonists who, up to that time, had

actively resisted the intrusions of the more aggressive Americans.

However, by the year 1820, relations had improved to such a degree that

a few of these hardy individuals were trapping on the headwaters of the

desert rivers. Later, their activities spread to include the entire

length of these remarkable watercourses.

These were the Mountain Men, a hard-as-nails breed of frontiersmen in a

class by themselves. In the period from 1820-1854, when a large part of

the Southwest became part of the United States through the Gadsden

Purchase, they roamed the plains and mountains of the American Desert.

Their roster includes such legendary figures as Bill Williams, Pauline

Weaver, Kit Carson, and James Pattie. Their argosy was a quest for the

rich, brown beaver pelts which were a golden fleece indeed when

presented to the fur traders in far-off St. Louis. In time, their

moccasined feet beat a broad path across the western plains—a path then

known as the Santa Fe Trail, but identified today as U.S. 66, the “Main

Street of America.”

Today, many of the streams which supported beaver colonies in the desert

places have vanished entirely, and others have been so effectively

harnessed for irrigation and power that there is no place for beavers in

them. In the higher mountains, however, there are many streams remote

from civilization where clear ponds still sparkle in the sunlight, and

the splash and dripping of busy beavers can be heard on quiet, summer

evenings. Because beavers quickly become established under any

conditions which are at all favorable, they have been reintroduced into

numerous places where they had been extinct for many years. Usually this

is good conservation practice, but under some conditions, it may prove a

mistake. Ecologically speaking, beavers probably are the most important

creatures in any animal community of which they are members. This is

because these busy engineers not only impose a tremendous drain on the

surrounding area for material, very often they also radically alter the

character of the terrain to fit their own needs.

[Illustration: beaver]

The life history of the beaver is one of the most interesting of all

mammals. It has been studied for centuries by naturalists in both the

New and Old Worlds, for the beaver, with but few differences, is native

to both. All this study and observation notwithstanding, the habits are

still only partially known. This is because the beaver is mainly a

nocturnal creature which spends most of its daylight hours in the

concealment of a lodge or burrow. Then, too, in the northern latitudes

where the ponds are covered with ice throughout the long winters there

is little opportunity to observe this phase of its existence. There is

but one species of beaver in North America but about two dozen

subspecies. The northern types and those which live in the mountains of

the Southwest seem to be dam builders who live in beaver “lodges.” Those

which inhabited rivers of the lower desert were mostly “bank” beavers

which lived in burrows in the banks of streams. This latter type is rare

today.

Perhaps the best way to understand the ecological importance of the

beaver is through watching the rise and decline of a typical colony.

Picture if you will a small, shallow stream flowing gently down a narrow

valley in the mountains. Bordering the low banks is a thicket of alders.

Back of them a thick growth of aspens extends to the edge of the valley

and mingles with the spruce trees on the slope. Down this slope comes a

young male beaver at a clumsy gallop, his broad tail striking the ground

with an audible thump at every lope. This emigrant has struck out for

himself because the colony to which he belongs has become crowded. He

finds the stream and, since the water is too shallow to conceal him,

crouches under an overhanging bank until darkness falls.

As soon as it becomes completely dark, he hunts for a suitable place to

build a dam and soon finds a site to his liking. On one side of the

stream a thick clump of alders projects from the bank, and on the other

a water-soaked log is half buried in the bottom of the creek. From these

anchor points, he begins his dam, building toward the middle from each

side. The work calls for a great deal of the alder brush to be cut and

sunk in the bed of the stream. There it is weighted down with rocks and

mud until secure. Additional brush is brought and interwoven with the

first; gradually the structure grows until in a few days it converts the

stream into a quiet pool deep enough to hide the beaver, should an enemy

appear. As the water rises it covers the bases of the alders, which

begin to die in the pond.

The beaver next turns his attention to building a lodge. Selecting a

point to one side of the current entering the pond, he begins as he did

with the dam by sinking brush to the bottom and weighting it down with

rocks. As he builds, he cleverly fashions several underwater entrances

to the house that will be. When he has finished, the house projects

several feet above the water, and the materials are so thoroughly

interlaced and plastered that even the most determined enemy would

despair of gaining entry to the living room. Debris from the

construction has floated downstream to become lodged in and on the dam,

making it more secure and watertight that it was when first built.

With the dam and the lodge both completed, the next task is to collect a

food supply for the following winter. This is carried on intermittently

during the autumn. It consists of cutting down aspens, whose bark the

beaver dearly loves, sectioning the branches and small trunks into

pieces which may be handled conveniently, and dragging them to the pond.

Once in the water, they are weighted down and will remain in good

condition for a long time. The beaver is joined in this task by a female

which has also migrated from an overcrowded colony. Two need more food

than one, consequently their trails begin to head a little farther into

the aspen forest as they work through the crisp autumn nights. These

trails converge as they leave the forest and approach the pond, and end

in a few well-developed mud slides that enter the water. Constant

traffic of the wet beavers leaving the water keeps the slides moist and

slippery.

As winter settles in on the mountains, a thin skim of ice begins to form

on the edges of the quiet water on cold nights. Then one night it

freezes completely over. This causes the beavers no inconvenience at all

because if on one of their underwater excursions they should wish to

surface for air, they have but to swim to a shallow place with firm

bottom, and with one quick lift of their powerful muscles break a hole

through the ice with their backs. They can break surprisingly thick ice

in this way. The beavers live in comfort and plenty throughout the

winter. The living room of the lodge has been furnished with comfortable

beds of the cattails that have already become established along the edge

of the pond. The lodge, although tightly built, still admits enough air

for the beavers and food is stored in plenty on the bottom of the pond.

As the bark is gnawed from the aspen branches, the bare poles are added

to the bulk of the house or used in further construction of the dam.

Before long, the mild southwestern winter merges into spring.

In late spring the beaver family is considerably increased by the

arrival of four miniature beavers. They weigh but 1 pound each at birth

and are fully furred. At this time, the father is ostracized and the

mother and her young live together in the lodge. When the young are

about 3 weeks old, they take to the water for the first time. They

quickly learn the beaver method of swimming; this is to kick with the

hind feet and let the forelegs trail loosely alongside the breast, using

the flat tail both as elevator and rudder. The young beavers are called

kits, and indeed are as playful as true kittens can be. It is most

amazing to watch them cavorting about in the water with as much ease as

youngsters of other mammals do on dry land. As autumn nears, this play

is exchanged for the sterner duties of existence, and the young take

their places as adults of the family.

Fifty years pass. As the colony increases the dam must be made larger,

new lodges must be built; and when the trails to the aspen forest become

too long, canals are dug part way out to lessen the hazards which may

befall the beaver on dry land. The pond gradually silts up to higher and

higher levels until at last it is full of black, fertile soil. All of

the aspens within reach are finally cut down and the hungry beavers turn

to the resinous bark of the spruces. Finally the struggle is given up.

The beavers migrate to a new location, and the following spring a

freshet tears out the center of the dam. Now the pond is gone. With it

are gone the trout that played in its depths, and the teal that rested

there on their way south. In its place is a beaver meadow, a grassy park

in the center of the spruce forest with spring flowers spangling its

green surface. Aspens are already beginning to crowd in about its edges,

and the creek is cutting deeper into its soft soil with every spring.

Before long heavy erosion will begin to take its toll, and some day in

the future a male beaver will again come galloping awkwardly down the

slope.

The changing conditions which such a cycle bring about are almost

impossible to evaluate. At least three climax types of environment are

represented: those of the alder thicket, the beaver pond, and the beaver

meadow. In a graphic fashion this cycle illustrates what is going on in

Nature continually, more slowly perhaps, but just as surely.

Porcupine

_Erethizon dorsatum_ (Greek: to irritate in allusion to the quills and

Latin: pertaining to the back)

Range: Most of North America north of the Mexican border. Notable by

their exception are the south central and southeastern United States.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: Usually associated with conifer forest, yet may sometimes be

found miles from any forest. An inhabitant of all life zones up to

timberline (Arctic-Alpine).

Description: A black to grizzled black and yellow creature covered with

quills. Total length 18 to 22 inches. Tail 7 to 9 inches. Weight 10 to

28 pounds. Body short and wide; supported by short bowed legs. Tail

heavy and muscular, armed with short slender quills. Head small with

dull eyes and long black whiskers, but with short ears. The incisors are

extremely large and are of a bright, rich yellow color. The quills are

shortest on the face and reach their greatest length near the middle of

the back. Often they are nearly hidden in the coarse, seal brown to

black underfur. The long guard hairs are also seal brown close to the

body, but change to a rather sere yellow at the tips. Only one young is

brought forth each year in a den among the rocks, or sometimes in a

hollow log. The young are among the most precocious of any mammal.

The porcupine in North America is considered as belonging to but the one

species _dorsatum_, although there are seven subspecies. The most common

subspecies found in the Southwest is _epixanthum_ (Greek _epi_, upon,

and _xanthus_, yellow), sometimes called “yellow-haired” porcupine. The

porcupine is unique among North American mammals in bearing the sharp

quills which are perhaps its most interesting feature. Certainly they

are responsible in large part for the unusual life history of this

misunderstood animal.

Quills are no more than greatly modified hairs, and in sorting through

the various types of pelage on a porcupine’s back, a few examples will

be found which are intermediate between the hair and the quills. This

does not mean that coarser hairs gradually turn to quills. Each follicle

produces hair or quill, as the case may be, for the life of the animal.

A quill consists of three well-defined parts: a solid sharp tip usually

black in color; a hollow shaft, which is white; and a root similar to

that of a hair.

[Illustration: porcupine]

The sharp tip is smooth for a fraction of an inch, but from this point

on, it is covered with a great number of closely appressed barbs. These

can be felt by rubbing the quill the “wrong” way between thumb and

forefinger. It has been found that these barbs flare away from the

surface, when the quill is immersed in warm water. It seems natural that

they would do the same when embedded in warm, moist flesh. At any rate,

quills are always difficult to extract, and if left in the victim they

penetrate ever more deeply until they may pierce some vital organ and

cause death. In other cases, they have been known to work entirely

through body or limb and emerge on the opposite side. This is due to

muscular action of the victim, some movements tending to force the point

farther, the barbs at the same time effectively preventing any retreat.

Below the barbs the tip of the quill flares to join the shaft. Pure

white and opaque, this portion is used by Indians to form decorative

bands of quill work on the fronts of buckskin vests and jackets. This

part is also hollow, and before removal of a quill from the flesh is

attempted, a little of the end should be cut off. This collapses the

shaft and makes extraction somewhat more easy, but very little less

painful. Actually there is little excuse for a human to become involved

with one of these mild-tempered creatures, but sometimes dogs are badly

hurt in encounters with them.

The root is the portion by which the quill is attached to the body.

Although it is a common belief that the porcupine can “throw” its

quills, the truth is that the root portion is extremely weak and the

quills are easily withdrawn from the body when the barbed tip is driven

into an enemy. In fact, any violent movement of the animal may dislodge

quills, even though nothing has touched them. There are several

well-authenticated accounts of quills having been flipped for several

feet in this way, but in each case, it was entirely accidental and

through no conscious effort of the porcupine. In other words, the

armament of this slow, awkward creature should be considered strictly

defensive in every respect.

Like the skunk, which can also defend itself most effectively, the

porcupine has little apparent fear of its enemies. When threatened with

violence it simply brings its head down between the forelegs and turns

its rump toward the attacker. With hair and quills erect it resembles a

soft furry ball. Appearances are seldom more deceiving! The guard hairs

half conceal a spot on the back where a whorl of long quills radiates

out in a large “cowlick.” Should any enemy touch these long guard hairs,

the muscular tail is thrashed vigorously about in an effort to drive the

somewhat shorter but equally keen-pointed tail quills into the attacker.

With every attempt at attack from another angle, the porcupine turns so

as to present its rump to the enemy. There is one Achilles heel,

however, in this otherwise almost perfect defense. It is the unprotected

underparts, which at times of danger are always kept pressed against the

ground or against a tree trunk. A few carnivores, among them the

mountain lion and the fisher, are known to kill the porcupine by

flipping it over on its back and tearing it open. Even these large

predators seldom escape unscathed, however, and both lions and fishers

are known to have died from the effects of quills accidentally taken

into the digestive tract.

To those who have heard that porcupines live only on bark and always

girdle the host trees, it may come as a surprise to find that this is

only partly true. Although “bark” is eaten to some extent throughout the

year, it is seldom the main diet. When a great deal is taken from one

tree, it is gnawed off in an aimless pattern which may or may not girdle

the tree. During the spring and summer, a porcupine becomes a browser on

tender leaves and twigs in the undergrowth. In autumn and winter, it

feeds more on mistletoe and pine needles than on bark. With its low

reproduction rate, there is little danger of it eating up our forests,

unless its natural enemies are removed.

Northern pocket gopher

_Thomomys talpoides_ (Greek: thomos, a heap and mys, mouse. Latin:

talpa, a mole)

Range: From northwestern United States and southwestern Canada to as far

south as northern Arizona and northwestern New Mexico.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: Soft loam in the open places in the high mountains. Seldom

found below 8,000 feet, but up to elevations of over 13,000 feet in New

Mexico.

Description: The characteristic mounds of earth built up by this group

of burrowing rodents are usually the best indication of their presence.

The northern pocket gopher is of medium size. Total length 6½ to 9½

inches. Tail 1¾ to 3 inches. It is usually gray in color with darker

patches behind the rounded ears. Eyes and ears are small. The short tail

has a bare, blunt tip. Front claws are long and curved. The entire body

is well muscled and gives an impression of power. Average number of

young thought to be about four. At the high elevations at which this

species lives, the young are not seen until rather late in summer.

[Illustration: northern pocket gopher]

The northern pocket gopher is one of the hardiest rodents on the North

American Continent. Even so, it would not be able to survive the climate

of the inhospitable regions it sometimes inhabits were it not for the

fact that is spends almost all its life underground. This creature does

not hibernate, but continues busily at the task of searching out food

when most other subterranean dwellers are curled up fast asleep in their

cozy nests. Why the gopher should continue working, while its ground

squirrel cousins sleep, is hard to say. It would seem that it has the

same opportunities to lay on fat for a winter’s rest. The chief reason

seems to be that the bulbs and roots upon which it feeds are always

available so long as the gopher keeps extending its underground

workings. On the other hand, the ground squirrels, which gather their

food aboveground, are cut off from this supply as soon as cold weather

drives them to shelter.

The pocket gophers are much alike. There are three genera and a

considerable number of species represented in the Southwest but, except

for variations due to climate and terrain, their habits are similar.

Burrows usually are constructed in deep loam or alluvial soils. These

tunnels seem to follow an aimless pattern. Their course is marked by

mounds of earth thrown out of the workings at irregular intervals. When

the gopher is engaged in throwing out this excavated earth, the entrance

to the tunnel is left open until the job is completed, then tightly

plugged to prevent enemies from entering. The tunnels themselves are

rather small in diameter, considering the size of the gopher, for if it

wishes to retrace its steps and there is no gallery near at hand in

which to turn around, it can run backward almost as easily as forward.

There are usually numerous rooms excavated along the course of the

tunnels. In one is a warm nest constructed of grass and fibers. Others

are utilized for storage rooms and at least one is reserved as a toilet,

thereby keeping the rest of the workings sanitary. When the ground is

covered with snow the northern pocket gopher especially is quite likely

to extend its activities aboveground. Here it builds its tunnels through

the snow and often packs them tightly with earth brought up from below.

This remains as earth casts, when the snow melts and forms a

characteristic mark of its presence.

Chief foods of pocket gophers are the bulbs, tubers, and fibrous roots

encountered in the course of their diggings. Whenever an especially

abundant supply is found, the surplus is stored away as insurance

against the time when future excavation produces nothing. Gophers also

eat leaves and stems whenever available. Some plants are pulled down

through the roof of the tunnel by the roots, and some are gathered near

its mouth, although these trips “outside” are fraught with danger.

Coyotes, foxes, and bobcats all are willing to chance an encounter with

this doughty little scrapper for the sake of the tasty meal he will

furnish.

Little is known of gopher family life. For the most part, they are

solitary individuals, avoiding others of their kind. At breeding time,

however, they may travel some distance across country to find a mate.

These trips usually are carried out under cover of darkness. The young

average four in number. They are born late in the spring and do not

leave to make their own homes until early autumn.

Physically the gopher exhibits a striking adaptation to its way of life.

The fur is thick and warm. It keeps soil particles from working into the

skin at the same time it protects the wearer from the chill of his

underground workings. The heavy, curved front claws are admirable

digging tools. In especially hard soil, the large strong incisors are

also pressed into service for this purpose. To remove the dirt from the

tunnel, the gopher becomes an animal bulldozer. The front legs are

employed as a blade pushing the soil, while the powerful hind legs push

the body and load towards the nearest tunnel opening. The pockets from

which this creature gets its common name are never used for hauling

earth. They are hair-lined pouches located in each cheek and utilized

for carrying food to the storerooms. There they are emptied by placing

the forefeet behind them and pushing forward. Last, by virtue of its

location, but certainly not least in usefulness, is the short, almost

hairless tail. It is used as a tactile organ to feel out the way when

the gopher runs backwards through the tunnels. In some respects, it is

of more use than the eyes although the gopher uses these too, as can be

attested by the quickness with which it detects any movement near the

mouth of its tunnel.

The gopher’s place in Nature seems to be akin to that of the earthworm.

By turning over the soil, the gopher enables it to more readily absorb

water and air. At the same time, fertility is increased by the addition

of buried plants and animal matter. This is indeed a fair exchange for

the plants it destroys in its quest for food.

CARNIVORES

_Including the Insectivores and Chiropterans_

This group is distinguished from other animals by having canine teeth in

both jaws. The function of these teeth is to catch and hold other

animals, for carnivores are the predators. This is the most highly

developed branch of the animal world and reaches a peak of

specialization in man who, while lacking some of the physical

qualifications of the other predators, has developed a brain which has

enabled him to gain and keep ascendancy over all other animals.

Considered with the group in this book are two other orders, the

Insectivora and the Chiroptera. These orders embrace the mammals in

North America that live principally on worms or insects rather than on

other mammals. They are the shrews and bats, respectively.

Since carnivores are the hunters rather than the hunted, they enjoy far

greater mobility than, for instance, the rodents. It is not necessary

that they have a burrow in which to escape the attacks of other animals,

for it is unusual for them to prey upon each other. Most of the

predators remain in one area only from choice or, in the case of adult

females, in order to rear the young. Few of them hibernate; bears and

skunks do spend a considerable time during the cold weather in a torpor,

but it is an uneasy sleep at best, as anyone who has disturbed these

animals at this time can attest. As far as the Chiroptera are concerned,

some species of bats hibernate and others migrate to a warmer climate to

spend the winter. Since most of the predators are active all winter,

while many of the rodents are in hibernation, this can be a period of

famine for carnivores. At the same time, it is a season of increased

danger for those species which are still active and upon which these

predators prey.

Because these hunters are continually stalking other animals, their

habitats are as varied as those of their quarries. Thus, the mountain

lion is a creature of the rimrock, where he can most conveniently find

deer browsing on mountain-mahogany; while his smaller cousin, the

bobcat, stalks smaller animals in the slope chaparral. The wild dogs

hunt plains and brushy country for ground squirrels and rabbits. In the

weasel family we find the marten in the treetops pursuing squirrels, the

weasel hunting mice in the meadow, and mink and otter pursuing prey near

to or in the water, Some species, such as the bears, are omnivorous and

may be encountered almost anywhere that a plentiful supply of food of

any kind can be found. Practically all of the species, excepting bats

and skunks, can be considered diurnal as well as nocturnal, but the

majority are most active during the hours between dusk and sunrise.

Since the carnivores’ purpose in Nature’s scheme is to control the

vegetable eaters, it follows that each predator must be somewhat

superior, either physically or mentally, or both, to the species upon

which it preys. The associations between pursuer and pursued may be

casual with species such as the coyote, which preys on a great number of

smaller species, or they may be sharply defined as with the lynx, which

in certain localities depends almost entirely upon the snowshoe hare for

food. The apparent ferocity with which some predators will kill, not

only enough for a meal, but much more than they need, cannot as yet be

explained. This habit is most pronounced in the weasel family. It may be

that more than ordinary control is called for in the case of their host

species, rodents in most cases. Whatever the reason, this wanton killing

has not upset the balance which these species maintain. Man, the most

ruthless and intelligent predator of all, is the only species which has

been successful in exterminating others.

The predators hold a favored place in the esteem of most naturalists. At

first, sympathy for the weak and indignation against the strong are

perfectly natural human feelings. As the necessity for control and the

wonderful way in which Nature attains a balance becomes apparent, the

role of the predator becomes more and more appreciated by the student.

Mountain lion

_Felis concolor_ (Latin: a cat of the same color; referring no doubt to

the smooth blending of the body coloration)

Range: At present, mostly confined to the western United States and

Canada, and all of Mexico south to the southern tip of South America.

There are a number of mountain lions in Florida, and persistent reports

indicate that they may be making a comeback in a number of other Eastern

States.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Habitat: As the range indicates, habitats vary widely. Mountain lions in

the Southwest show a preference for rimrock country in the Transition

Life Zone or higher, but they are often seen in all the life zones.

Description: A huge, tawny cat with long, heavy tail. The long tail is a

field mark identifying the young, which, having a spotted coat,

otherwise resemble young bobcats to some degree. Total length 72 to 90

inches. Tail 30 to 36 inches. Weight 80 to 200 pounds. Color may vary

from tawny gray to brownish red over most of the body, the underparts

being lighter. The head and ears appear small in proportion to the lean

muscular body. The teeth are large, the canines being especially

massive. Like most members of the cat family, the mountain lion has

large feet with long, sharp claws. The tracks show the imprint of four

toes together with a large pad in the center of the foot. The young may

be born at any time of the year. Only one litter is born every 2 to 3

years, and the average number of young is three.

Probably no species of mammal in the New World equals the mountain lion

in farflung distribution. From the Yukon to Patagonia, this elusive

carnivore can still be found in considerable numbers in spite of

aggressive campaigns against it. In the United States, it is the chief

representative of the wild cats, a group noted for fierce and predacious

habits. Fortunate indeed is the person who sees one of these great

felines in the wild. This may not be as difficult as one might imagine

because mountain lions often travel through comparatively well settled

areas. It is especially possible in the Southwest, for the four-State

area covered by this book contains the heaviest population of mountain

lions in the United States. However, the comparative abundance of this

carnivore has not resulted in a better understanding of it. The mountain

lion is still one of the least known and most maligned creatures of our

times.

[Illustration: mountain lion]

The Mexicans know this cosmopolite as “leon.” In Brazil it is called

“onca.” Perhaps the most distinguished name, and rating as the first in

New World history, is “puma,” given it by the Incas. Early American

settlers of the east coast called it “panther,” “painter,” and

“catamount.” In the northwestern United States, it is known as “cougar”

and in the Southwest, as mountain lion. Although there is but the one

species _concolor_, there are a number of subspecies. About 15 are now

recognized, most of them geographical races and not markedly different

from the species. Four of these subspecies are found in the four States

with which we are concerned. One of the most interesting is

_hippolestes_ which inhabits the State of Colorado. Translated from the

Greek this is “horse thief,” an appropriate epithet indeed for this

ghostly marauder. As might be expected from their vast distribution, the

several subspecies have a tremendous vertical range. In the Southwest

they are found from near sea level in southwestern Arizona to the tops

of the highest peaks in Colorado.

In the more than four centuries that have elapsed since the white man

first set foot on soil of the New World, a great mass of folklore

concerning the mountain lion has accumulated. Half fact, half fiction,

these tales have been repeated from one generation to another and few

details have been lost in the telling; indeed, in most cases, several

have been added. Most common are those which describe its fierceness and

its attacks on man. In the main, these tales are lurid and convincing,

but they do not stand up under scientific scrutiny. It is true that such

attacks have occurred; one of the most recent and best verified was that

on a 13-year old boy in Okanogan County, Washington, in 1924. It

resulted in the death and partial devouring of the unfortunate

youngster. Yet sensational as this incident was, it resulted in

publicity far out of proportion to its importance. In fact, articles

concerning this case are still appearing at intervals. The truth of the

matter is that very few authentic cases of mountain lion attacks upon

humans have ever occurred in the United States, and that most of these

_could_ have been caused by the mountain lion’s being rabid. Certainly

such attacks are not typical behavior of the normal animal. As far as

man is concerned, the lion will take flight whenever possible, and even

when cornered it is not nearly so pugnacious as its little cousin, the

bobcat.

Other stories about the mountain lion often emphasize the bloodcurdling

screams with which it preludes its stalk of some unfortunate person deep

in the forest. The facts are that there is no reason to believe that

lions cannot or do not scream, but most authorities agree that such

vocal expressions are most likely to be made by an old male courting his

lady love or warning away a rival. The cats are creatures of stealth and

cunning that creep upon their prey as noiselessly as possible. Lions

would hardly announce their presence with the sort of screams with which

they are credited. It seems safe to say that at least 90 percent of

these alleged screams can be traced to owls or amorous bobcats.

Oftentimes these sounds have been linked to large tracks found in the

vicinity as proof that a mountain lion was in the area. This has led one

author to remark that “the witness usually is unable to distinguish the

track of a large dog from that of a mountain lion.” In addition, the

infrequent screams made by captive mountain lions indicate that such

sounds in Nature would be far from spectacular. They consist of a sound

that is more like a whistle than the demoniacal wail so often ascribed

to the wild animal.

Many stories are told of a person, usually a pioneer ancestor, who has

been followed by a mountain lion. In most cases this person has returned

to the area suitably armed and with witnesses who found tracks of the

beast together with those of their friend. Strange to say, such

incidents are not at all uncommon. They have been recorded and verified

a number of times. In these cases the animal often has made no effort at

concealment but has followed the person quite openly. Despite this

boldness it seems there is no sinister motive, merely a naive and

surprising curiosity on the part of the big cat as to what kind of

creature man is. It is most unfortunate that so little data have been

recorded in these instances, yet this is quite understandable under the

circumstances.

[Illustration: Habitat map]

Finally, in most stories there is only one size of mountain lion—big! As

the story makes its rounds the lion never gets smaller; it invariably

grows larger. Somehow the records have missed all these really big

lions. Any lion which measures more than 8 feet in length and 200 pounds

in weight will be an extremely large, old male in the record class. The

average will be much smaller. Statistics show most lions to be 5 to 7

feet in length and 80 to 130 pounds in weight for adult females, and 6

to 8 feet in length with weights of 120 to 200 pounds for adult males.

Errors in estimating the size of these big cats are easily accounted

for. In the first place the lion is a long, low, sleek creature that

gives an impression of being longer than it is. Too, its size is

unconsciously exaggerated by many people who are impressed with its

tremendous power and agility. Many of its feats of strength seem

impossible for an animal so small. Lastly, its tanned hide may be

available for measurement. Actually this proves nothing; hides often are

stretched 2 feet or more at the time the animal is skinned, and tanning

does not shrink them appreciably.

None of the above is meant to detract in any way from the reputation of

the mountain lion or its place in American folklore. It is the third

largest predator in the Southwest, being exceeded only by the jaguar and

the bear in size, and surpassing them both in agility. In the past, it

has been feared and hated by those whose herds and flocks have suffered

from its depredations. Their efforts to exterminate it have resulted in

grave biological problems at times, but in the light of more advanced

study it seems probable this big carnivore will be spared in the future

to keep its rightful place in our wilder areas.

The mountain lion “goes with the deer”; that is to say, its function is

to keep deer in check so that they will not eat up their range and

starve to death. Though at first glance such a possibility seems out of

the question, this has become a serious problem in recent years. It will

be further intensified as suitable deer range becomes more restricted

with the advance of civilization. Another function of the mountain

lion-deer relationship is to weed out the diseased and inferior

individuals so that the deer herd will remain healthy and up to good

physical standards. It may be argued that the same end is reached by

hunting, and so it is, with one major exception. The nimrod, intent on a

fine trophy head, takes the buck in the prime of life, a time when he

should be sireing the herd of the future. The cougar does not

consciously select its victims; it takes the most easily caught, thus

leaving the wisest and healthiest survivors as breeding stock.

Though deer are the lion’s preferred food, many other species of mammals

are preyed upon when deer are scarce. These range in size from the

smallest rodents to animals as large as elk. Among the more unlikely

species recorded are skunk and bobcat. The lion also has the dubious

distinction of being one of the chief predators of the porcupine. Dining

on this last species is fraught with danger, however, because no matter

how expertly the carcass is removed from its spiney covering, a few

quills will penetrate the flesh of the diner. Little prey other than

mammals is ever taken. Birds are not easily caught by such a large

animal and, although it does not shun water, it is poorly equipped to

take any form of aquatic life. The mountain lion will not eat carrion

except under the most dire circumstances and prefers food that it has

killed itself.