e had an opportunity to see how quickly the demand in the great
cities reaches directly to the center of production thousands of
miles away. When we went to Urga in May prime marmot skins were
worth thirty cents each to the Mongols. Early in October, when we
returned, the hunters were selling the same skins for _one dollar
and twenty-five cents apiece_.

The natives always shoot the animals. When a Mongol has driven one
into its burrow, he lies quietly beside the hole waiting for the
marmot to appear. It may be twenty minutes or even an hour, but the
Oriental patience takes little note of time. Finally a yellow head
emerges and a pair of shining eyes glance quickly about in every
direction. Of course, they see the Mongol but he looks only like a
mound of earth, and the marmot raises itself a few inches higher.
The hunter lies as motionless as a log of wood until the animal is
well out of its burrow--then he shoots.

The Mongols take advantage of the marmot's curiosity in an amusing
and even more effective way. With a dogskin tied to his saddle the
native rides over the plain until he reaches a marmot colony. He
hobbles his pony at a distance of three or four hundred yards, gets
down on his hands and knees, and throws the dogskin over his
shoulders. He crawls slowly toward the nearest animal, now and then
stopping to bark and shake his head. In an instant, the marmot is
all attention. He jumps up and down whistling and barking, but never
venturing far from the opening of his burrow.

As the pseudo-dog advances there seems imminent danger that the fat
little body will explode from curiosity and excitement. But suddenly
the "dog" collapses in the strangest way and the marmot raises on
the very tips of his toes to see what it is all about. Then there is
a roar, a flash of fire and another skin is added to the millions
which have already been sent to the seacoast from outer Mongolia.

Mr. Mamen often spoke of an extraordinary dance which he had seen
the marmots perform, and when Mr. and Mrs. MacCallie returned to
Kalgan they saw it also. We were never fortunate enough to witness
it. Mac said that two marmots stood erect on their hind legs,
grasping each other with their front paws, and danced slowly about
exactly as though they were waltzing. He agreed with Mamen that it
was the most extraordinary and amusing thing he had ever seen an
animal do. I can well believe it, for the marmots have many curious
habits which would