One evening about sundown, when my father sent me out with the shotgun
to hunt them in a stubble field, I learned something curious and
interesting in connection with these mischievous gophers, though just
then they were doing no harm. As I strolled through the stubble
watching for a chance for a shot, a shrike flew past me and alighted
on an open spot at the mouth of a burrow about thirty yards ahead of
me. Curious to see what he was up to, I stood still to watch him. He
looked down the gopher hole in a listening attitude, then looked back
at me to see if I was coming, looked down again and listened, and
looked back at me. I stood perfectly still, and he kept twitching his
tail, seeming uneasy and doubtful about venturing to do the savage job
that I soon learned he had in his mind. Finally, encouraged by my
keeping so still, to my astonishment he suddenly vanished in the
gopher hole.
[Illustration: COMBINED THERMOMETER, HYGROMETER, BAROMETER AND
PYROMETER
Invented by the author in his boyhood]
A bird going down a deep narrow hole in the ground like a ferret or a
weasel seemed very strange, and I thought it would be a fine thing to
run forward, clap my hand over the hole, and have the fun of
imprisoning him and seeing what he would do when he tried to get out.
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