Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1882-03-03
"Hard TO Hit"


March reminds me, especially in the evening,
of some days passed so high up in the Rocky
Mountains that the summer was left down in
the valleys. One such spring like evening
we camped close to the timber-limit, and l
made my first trip into the region above, in
which no trees grow. Having left the spruce
woods quickly behind, there came some stiff
climbing up lodges of broken rocks, standing
cliff like, to bar the way to the summit. These
surmounted, the way was clear, for from tine
north -east-the side was on-this mountain
presents a smooth, grassy slope to the very
top; but the western side of the range is a
series of rocky precipices, scanned and shat
tered. This is true of many mountains ia
Colorado.
Just above the cliffs grew a number of
dwarfed spruces, some of them with trunks
six inches in diameter, yet lying fiat along the
ground, so that the gnarled and wind pressed
boughs were scarcely knee-high. They stood
SO closely together, and were 80 stiff that
could not pass between them but, on the
other hand, they were strong enough to bear
nv weight, so that 1 could walk over their
tops 5Aen it was nconvenient to go around.
Some sn..," brown sparrows, of two or
three species, lived tL-ls ,Siad they were very
talkative. Sharp, metallic chirps were 4s-srd,
also, as the blue snow-bird fitted about, show
tail, in scudding from one sheltering bush to
another. Doubtless, careful search would have
discovered its home, snugly built of circular
ly laid grasses, and tucked deeply into some
cozy hollow beside the root of a spruce.
My pace now became slow, for in the thin
air of place twelve thousand feet above the
sea-level, climbing is exhausting work. But
before long l came to the top, and stood on
the verge of crag that showed the crum-
bling action of water and frost. Gaping cracks
scanned its face, and an enormous mass of
fallen rock covered the broad slope at its
foot.
The very moment arrived there, heard
a most lively squeaking going on, apparently
just under the edge of the cliff, or in some of
the cracks. 1t was an odd noise something
between bark and scream. and 1 could
think Of nothing hut young hawks as the
authors Of it. So set at work to find the
nest, but my search was vain, while the sharp
squeaking seemed to multiply and to come
from a dozen different quarters. By this
time l had crawled down the rough face of
the cliff, and had reached the heaps of fallen
rock. There caught a glimpse of little
head with two black eyes, like prairie-dog's,
peering out of crevice, and l was Just in
time to see him open his small jaws and say
''skiak P-about as a rusty hinge would pro-
nounee it. l whipped my revolver out of my
belt and fired, but the little fellow lodged the
bullet and was gone. Echoes ratified about
among the rocks, wandered up and down the
canon, and hammered away at half a dozen
stone walls before ceasing entirely but when
they had died away, not another sound was to
be heard. Every little rascal had hid.
So sat down and waited. In about five
minutes tiny, timid squeak broke the still
ness then a second a triAe louder, then one
H.. -, kN
passage. Hardly daring to breathe, l waited
and watched. Finally the chorus became as
loud as before, and caught sight of one of
the singers only about ten yards away head
and shoulders out of his hole, doubtless COM
menting to his neighbor in no complimentary
way upon the strange intruder. Slowly lift
ing my pistol, l pulled the trigger. 1 was
sure he had not seen me, yet a chip of rock
flying from where he had stood was my only
satisfaction; he had lodged again.
had seen enough, however, to know that
the noisy colony was community of Little
Chief hares (LagOmys priRceps, as they are
named in the text-books), or ''conies," as the
silver miners call them. They are related to
the woodchuok as well as to the hare, and
they live wholly at or above timber-line, bur-
rowing among the fallen and decomposing
rocks which crown the submits of all the
mountains. Not every peak, by any means,
harbors comics on the contrary, they are
rather uncommon, and are so difficult to
shoot that their skins are rare in museums,
and their ways are little known to naturalists,
During the middle of the day they are
asleep and quiet but in the evening" and all
night, when the moon Shines they leave their
rocky retreats and forage in the neighboring
meadows, meeting the yellow-footed marmot
and other neighbors About the only enc
mics they have, fancy, are the rattlesnake
and weasel, excepting when wild cat may
pounce upon one, or an owl swoop down and
snatch up some rambler. In the cold season,
of course, their burrows are deep in snow
but then the little fellows are taking their
long winter sleep, aud neither know nor care
what the weather may be.
An Indian will eat a cony,-if he can catch
it. He likes to use its fur, also for hraiding
his locks into those long plaits which delight
his soul but the lively little rodents are pret-
ty safe from all human foes, even one with a
Colts revolver !-Ernest IngerSoH in March
| 50. Nicholas.