p
in them. The going and coming of these little vizcachas would almost
lead one to believe that they have a primitive city government, and are
ruled according to definite laws. Their cities stand for generations,
and many of the old human inhabitants tell of certain vizcacheras around
them which existed when their parents were living. The founder of a new
village is usually a male; and he goes only a short distance from the
other villages to establish his new colony.

These cities are by no means occupied by their builders alone, but have
their undesirables within their borders. The unique style of burrowing
which the vizcachas employ benefits several kinds of birds, especially
the Minerva, and one species of the swallows, which build their nests in
the bank-like holes in the sides of the vizcacha's cities. Several
insects, among which may be mentioned a large nocturnal bug, with red
wings and shiny black body, also seek the same shelter; another foreign
inhabitant is a night-roaming cincindela, with dark green wing-cases and
pale red legs, which remind one of oriental jewels. There are also no
less than six species of wingless wasps, beautifully coloured in red,
black, and white. Dozens of spiders and smaller insects that live in and
near the vizcacheras, which are everywhere sprinkled over the pampas,
pass in and out among the streets recognising their respective friends
and enemies.

The home life in these communities is most interesting. The burrowers
remain indoors until late in the evening during the winter, but in
summer appear before the sun sets. One of the larger males is the first
to appear, as if to see if everything is safe from danger; if it is,
others immediately pop up and take their places at the entrance to the
burrow. The females are smaller than the males, and stand up that they
may see everything that happens. Curiosity struggling within them for
mastery is often the cause of their death. Tiny swallows hover over the
entrances, like myriads of large moths, with never-ending low, mournful
cries.

Of all the incongruous inhabitants of the vizcacheras, the fox is the
most dreaded and the least welcome. To appease his growls and snarls the
vizcachas are sometimes forced to let him occupy one of their rooms for
a season, or even permanently. During a part of the year he appears
quite unassuming and indifferent to the general affairs of the
household, and he really goes quite unnoticed, even though he