Section 1 of Stories of the First American Animals. The laws of nature are the same now as when life began upon the earth. Not one drop of water or grain of sand has been lost or gained. But the story of animal life is one of many changes, a panorama of constant progress upward from humble to higher forms, finally resulting in an exalted type. Man. 100 million years ago, a prodigiously long time that can only be guessed at, the land of our world was bear of stirring life, and the water contained only the simplest of creatures resembling tiny globules of gelatin. After a long, long time there appeared flabby mollusks living in shells, sponges, corals, crab-like trilobites, and many other sea-dwellers of lowly form. Fishes were slow in coming, but their arrival marked a great change in the progress of animal life, for they were the first vertebrates, or creatures with spinal columns and bony skeletons. They had gills or clefts behind their jaws which enabled them to breathe under water. But in time some of them acquired cavities in their bodies which served as lungs so that they could sustain life when stranded on sandbars, or when receding waters left them high and dry upon mud flats. No doubt many learned to flop their way over land from pool to pool, and thus began a new order of lizard and toad-like beings, the amphibians, with short, feeble legs in place of fins. They had gills at birth and lived for a time like fishes, but when grown up the gills fell into disuse and lungs served instead. They crawled out of the water to waddle about, and such was the beginning of land animals. Reptiles appeared next. They had no gills, and their internal organs were more complicated than those of the amphibians. Their cold, slimy bodies were covered with scales or plates. Evidently the world was then very attractive to reptiles, for they prospered and multiplied until earth, sea, and sky were overrun with them. Some went back to the old water life, while others waddled about on land, and still others developed skin wings which enabled them to glide through the air, or flutter about like big bats. Bird life began, for birds were originally members of the reptile family that had learned how to fly. Dinosaurs, however, were the largest and most abundant of the reptiles.  The age of reptiles lasted for millions of years, and then for some unknown reason it ended. The dinosaurs and their kind passed away, leaving only a few crocodiles, turtles, and lizards as reminders of their former greatness. Meanwhile a new order of creatures had appeared in the world. Their bodies, unlike those of the reptiles, were warm to the touch and covered with hair. These were the mammals, very small and timid at first, and a very primitive type, distantly related to reptiles. These, the marsupials, are now represented by our opossum and kangaroo. They were followed by true mammals, which, from small and inconspicuous forms, developed into highly specialized and diversified types with comparatively large brains. With the age of mammals began the power of mind. Man was the latest arrival. Until about 50,000 years ago he attracted little attention, and not until thousands of years later did he become powerful enough to assume the mastery over all living things. Such in brief is the ancient animal life history of the world. The age of mammals, or era of modern life, has been divided into five periods. Beginning with the oldest, these are eocene, or dawn recent, oligoscene, or little recent, myoscene, or less recent, plioscene, or more recent, pleistocene, or most recent. Each period marks a pronounced change in the upward progress of animal life. The evidence is to be found in rocks, compact layers of sand, gravel, clay, and other earthy materials spread out one upon another by wind, water, or volcanic action, gradually rising to hundreds and even thousands of feet in thickness, and preserving within them the remains of such animals and plants as existed while the layers were accumulating. Today, and in water action, together with other forces of nature, have worn or cut away these same rocks, exposing their contents, so that from the animal and plant remains a history can be written of the life that was. The bones of ancient animals being petrified or changed to stone are usually found much broken and scattered. But the teeth are better preserved because of their hard enamel coats, a fortunate circumstance, for an animal's identity may best be learned from its teeth, and often one gives the desired information. Bone-bearing rocks are found in all parts of the world. Those of North America, formed during the Age of Mammals, are best represented in the plains and badlands regions west of the Mississippi River. Badlands are once broad tablelands cut up by deep gullies and other depressions into all sorts of queer shapes. From the slopes of buttes, bluffs, and hills protrude the animal and plant remains which determined the period in which each series of rocks was formed. Once any form of life passed out of existence, it's like never returned. This unfailing law of nature has made it possible for us to recognize each period of the Age of Mammals by noting the disappearance of old animal types and the occurrence of new ones. The rocks themselves give much information, for when the deposits of one period lie upon another, those below being laid down first are of course the oldest. Conditions did not favor the accumulation of rocks representing the five periods of the Age of Mammals all in one place, for this would have resulted in a veritable tower of Babel at least five miles high. The accumulations of two periods and only parts at that are the most that can be hoped for in any one locality. But their relative positions and comparisons of animal remains embedded in them establish their ages and by repeating this method of studying other bone-bearing localities and values are established. And even though widely separated, the rocks of each period become arranged in their proper order. Each scattered and torn leaf then becomes part of a book, a record of the rocks entitled The Age of Mammals. To read this book, one must have some understanding of the age of Mammals. All of them possess the inborn power to adapt themselves to various conditions and to live the lives that suited them best. Some did not properly exercise this power and finally cease to exist, while others improved their positions in various ways. Enterprising creatures like the camel and horse develop teeth and feet, enabling them to change from fertile lowland dwellers to inhabitants of the gradually broadening arid plains, thereby securing new feeding grounds and avoiding the competition and enmity of other animals. A few, like the tapir, serve their ends by plunging into thick jungles and leading lives of retirement. Every creature had its own way of trying to live and grow. None of them was thrown into the world without resource. All were sown like seeds with the power to shift their positions to such soil as best suited their healthful development. Every last one of them was given a chance and even those who failed lived long lives and their disappearance was most gradual. Man has changed all this. His civilization has proven more destructive to mammals than hunger, cold, disease, and all other natural agencies put together. Those unwilling to become his slaves are being rapidly exterminated. The age of mammals has ended and we are now living in the age of man. Section 1 Section 2 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Devorah Allen Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Jock the Jungle Jinx Introduction In Miles County, Montana, and Converse County, Wyoming, near Hell Creek and Lance Creek respectively, are great beds of sandstone filled with bones and plant impressions, which tell of when the age of reptiles ended and the age of mammals began. These now desolate wastes were then clad in luxurious vegetation, the climate and altitude being favorable to the growth of fig, banana and palm trees. Here lived a mighty race of reptiles, the dinosaurs. Some were flesh-eaters with saber teeth and bird-like feet, while others with tiny teeth and beast-like hoofs fed entirely upon plants. They somewhat resembled the dragons we read about in fairy stories, although except for the flesh-eaters they must have been quite harmless. Most of them were huge and dull-witted, and spent their time eating and growing fat. Nobody knows just what happened, but these great, hulking monsters suddenly disappeared, and all of the world's great reptiles went with them. Such a wholesale and mysterious destruction of animals is without a parallel in ancient history. Something may have occurred which made it harder for them to fill their big stomachs, leaving them to wither away. At any rate, in the Hell Creek and Lands Creek sandstones is recorded their last appearance. These sandstones also tell of creatures other than dinosaurs. There were turtles, lizards, fishes, and small land animals covered with hair. The latter were mammals of a primitive order, known as marsupials. Although small-bodied, their brains were comparatively large, and they were alert and active, compared with the dull-witted and slow-moving dinosaurs about them. In the San Juan region of northern New Mexico, are rocks containing bones of dinosaurs similar to those of Hell Creek and Lands Creek. On top of them are more rocks 800 feet thick, filled with bones of marsupials and a few true mammals, but no dinosaurs whatever. And on the top of this second series are still more rocks, minus dinosaurs and marsupials, and containing only the remains of true mammals. An important succession of animal life is thus established. The age of reptiles below, the age of mammals above, with marsupials yielding their place to true mammals in the topmost of the three deposits. It is from such records that we learn much concerning the progress of ancient animal life. End of section 2 Section 3 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Kay Hand Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Jock the Jungle Jinx part 1 To begin with, Jock was not a squirrel, although at a distance he did resemble one somewhat because of his long bushy tail. He lived in the jungle, a damp, gloomy place where the sunlight never came. It was his home, and he knew no other. To him it meant the world and there could be nothing else beyond. Jock was small, but his brain was large in proportion to his body. A very important matter if you but stop and think a moment. This may have been because he was a mammal, a warm-blooded creature with no taint of fish or reptile about him. Brains and mammals were both scarce, for these were the days of slimy, crawling things, the age of dinosaurs. Jock's most intimate friends were mammals like himself's. His neighbors were the burrowers and pouched animals. It was whispered that they had a bit of the reptile about them, although to look at them nobody would imagine such a thing. They lived in burrows and under rotten logs, while the mammals spent most of their time in the trees. Now it is a bad thing forever to hide in dark and damp places, bad for the health and morals, and a serious handicap to anyone wishing to get ahead in the world. Jock seemed to be the liveliest and chearest youngster in the jungle, and yet in spite of appearances he was not really happy and contented. Tree-climbing gave him a view of the sun. He gluried in its light and warmth, and yet it was not a part of the jungle but a thing outside. This set him to thinking. He became restless and longed for something besides the gloom of the forest which had always been his home. This feeling was shared more or less by his intimates, but the burrowers and pouched animals frowned upon progressive notions. Old Grump, their leader, saw that Jock was growing fast. The time had come when the small mammal must be told why things were so and should remain so. Old Grump had always taken a serious and gloomy view of life. Never had he looked upon the sun. He would have feared his own shadow, could he have but seen it. It was past midday and Jock had just descended to the ground from the top of a tree after a period of sun-gazing. The leader of the pouched animals sat at the foot of it, awaiting him. Where have you been? Old Grump demanded. Jock's eyes sparkled. As high as I could climb, he said. I was looking through the leaves at the warm shining ball and wishing that I could get closer to it. Old Grump shook his head very solemnly. It is as I feared. He muttered in tones of strong disapproval. Our world is growing too small for you and you wish to go out into the larger one. You must give up such notions. No good will come of them. Then there is a larger world somewhere, observed our hero. I suspected as much. I am so tired of this gloomy place. Why do we remain here? The leader of the pouched animals shuddered. It is well I spoke, he said. You might have done something rash, in which case nothing could have saved you from death. Jock's eyes opened wide in surprise. Death? Why? he inquired. Because of the dinosaurs. They own the whole outside world.  Dinosaurs? What are they? Old Grump shivered and looked nervously about him. His voice sank almost to a whisper. Shhh! Not so loud, he said. They are savage monsters, taller than the tallest trees. They infest every corner of the land, the waters, and even the sky above. The largest and fiercest of them rules all other living things with tooth and claw.  The old pouched leader became almost dumb with fright as he told this, but Jock felt not at all afraid. What he heard merely sharpened his wits and aroused within him a consuming curiosity to learn more. Wonderful! he exclaimed. But it seems to me that if these dinosaurs are so very, very big, we little animals might hide in their country as well as here. There must be holes and... Old Grump almost collapsed. Never had he listened to such radical views. Mingled feelings of rage and terror almost overwhelmed him. Jock watched him with a half-curious, half-amused expression, as he fumed and sputtered and finally found the use of his tongue. Erm, ah! Bold wicked words, said he in a choking voice. Who are you to question the opinions of your elders? If the dinosaur king knew where we were hidden, he would were hidden he would hunt out and destroy us. Not one of us could escape him."  Finally he disappeared in a burrow, there to rest and calm his nerves. Jock was left alone, trembling, not with fear, but with excitement, because of the glorious news he had just heard. There was a big world outside, and other animals dwelt in it.  Jock went to bed supperless that night, for he was too excited to eat.  The dinosaur king, ruler of the world, kept running through his brain. Whenever he did doze off a few moments he dreamed of snapping and screeching monsters, and then woke up again. No use spending the night this way, he thought. With that he sought the tallest tree he could find and climbed to the topmost branch. The moon's rays shone faintly through the dense foliage above his head. Never had the jungle seemed such a dungeon as it did them. Jock gazed at the moon through the leaves as a prisoner does through iron bars. Hark! What was that? The small mammal pricked up his ears and listened again for that strange, distant cry. In a moment it was repeated very faintly, a voice too far away to be distinctly heard. He held his breath, crouching motionless, and again sounded the mysterious voice, an unearthly screech, such as had never before fallen upon his ears. It may be the dinosaur king, he thought. I wish I could meet him and learn why he rules the world, leaving so little for the rest of us. Jock climbed higher. Never had he ventured so far aloft. The slender branches drooped beneath his weight. The moon shone brighter. The fresh air filled his lungs. Never had he so enjoyed himself, and it grew better the higher he climbed. At last he reached the end, the very top of the jungle roof. The dazzling moonlight made him blink. The air was delicious, and then there were those distant cries. He gazed eagerly over the vast billowy expanse of green foliage. The light, the sweet forest fragrance, intoxicated him. Ah! If he only dared. Now or never, something within him whispered, old grump and the rest of those jungle dwellers will soon learn what you are doing, and you may never get another chance like this. That settled it. Jock took a deep breath and began crawling over the interlocking twigs and leaves. It was difficult getting started, but once having made up his mind he found it easier and kept going. Away he went over the jungle roof, stopping now and then to look and listen and make certain that he was going in the direction of the distant cries. He had to be careful too, just where he stepped, for a slip would have meant a bad tumble to somewhere far beneath. It was also intensely interesting and exciting, and he did not feel a bit frightened. Toward morning the trees began to thin out, leaving large gaps in the jungle roof. Several times Jock was obliged to seek the ground, cross the open spaces, and climb up again. This cost him considerable delay. Also it made him tired. The ground beneath was now fairly clear of underbrush and other obstructions. Jock finally descended to earth and stayed there. A new and wonderful country opened before him. A delightful country and worth ten times the trouble he had taken to reach it. There was none of the gloom and mustiness that prevailed in the depths of the jungle. The air was charged with the same freshness he had first experienced among the topmost tree-leaves. Also with another new and most inviting aroma which reminded him that he was hungry. He gazed about him to learn what caused that enticing smell. It was then he saw something. New, of course. Everything was new and wonderful. In the distance, through the trees, he made out a vast blue expanse. A sky upside down. He could faintly distinguish a thin, hazy line where the upper and lower skies met each other. Earth and trees ended in the near distance. It would seem that he had about reached the edge of the world without meeting a single dinosaur. And then, just when he had about made up his mind to go on and at least have a look over the edge of the world, swish, flop, something made a great commotion above his head. He looked up quickly and then ducked as a dark cloud descended upon him. Head over heels he rolled and tumbled into a burrow which chanced to yawn in his path. It all happened so suddenly that he had no time to think of anything except that a hole was a good place to be in while trouble was going on. In a moment he had righted himself and was peering out of his refuge. An odd-looking creature was running about through the grass. It had two legs only, also two feathered wings. Suddenly it caught sight of jock's head and made a rush in that direction. Back popped the head into the hole. Come out of there, little rascal, screeched a voice. Jock looked up and saw the unknown gazing down upon him. Its mouth, or rather bill, was wide open, showing four rows of sharp teeth. It would have done better to have kept its mouth shut. Jock saw those teeth and decided to stay where he was. A thought struck him. Are you the ruler of the world? he asked eagerly. The witch? Ruler of the world, king of the dinosaurs, or whatever else you call yourself? Grock, I am the reptile bird. If that is what you mean, the other replied. As for you, come out of that hole at once. I have had nothing to eat since this morning and am nearly starved. Since this morning, Jock glanced at the sky. The day had scarcely begun.  I refuse to move, unless you are the dinosaur king. I came here to see him. And you won't come out. Not unless you are the dinosaur king, Jock replied, firmly. The reptile bird was greatly displeased. Very well, he said, in a hurt voice, I refuse to speak to you any more. And with that he turned rudely away. Jock saw his long feathered tail disappear through the grass. When it seemed safe to do so, he crawled from his refuge and moved on again toward the edge of the world and that sky upside down. The forest finally ended. The ground sloped gradually downward and disappeared, not in space, but in plain, ordinary water. Jock learned this when he ran down to the earth's jumping-off place to look over the edge. His feet splashed into a cool liquid. He put his mouth to it and made a rye face. The liquid tasted bitter. That sky upside down was salt water, a lagoon, or inland sea. Its vastness staggered him. The world seemed to be made of water as well as land. A ball of light shone in his face. It was brilliant and warm and rising from the lagoon. Another one hung in the sky directly over it. There were two great shining balls in the country of the dinosaurs. Jock sat down upon the beach to look and listen and smell all the new and interesting things. And so this is the dinosaur country. I wish my people could see it, he thought. When they do, goodbye to the jungle forever. He sat there for some time, dazed, enraptured, overwhelmed by the new world's attractions. His eyes vied with his nose, telling him of the wonders about him. The beach extended in a huge semi-circle on both sides of where he sat. It was a broad ribbon of nice, clean sand. Clumps of rushes and plants grew from the water's edge. On the land side were many trees. Something resembling a large green stone lay upon the beach on his right. To the left of it was a log with a long, dark object on top of it. His eyes were busy telling him these things when, all at once, his nose broke in with news of the delightfully fragrant smell that had before made him feel so hungry. It also told him of something else, not so pleasant. The dinosaurs might be hiding somewhere near, for the air smelled strongly of animals. Jock gazed cautiously about him. That green stone had a suspicious odor. He crept toward it and was about to take a sniff when something shot out from beneath the stone. A pair of horny jaws clicked together within an inch of his nose. Jock jumped back and sat down upon the sand at a safe distance. The creature seemed to have no feet, although it was plain to be seen that it possessed a head and tail. Are you the dinosaur king, the little mammal made bold to inquire? No answer. The soft, shelled turtle, for it was he, kept perfectly still and watched Jock out of his cold, wicked eyes. He was waiting for another chance, but our hero suspected as much and did not give it to him. I don't believe he hears me, thought Jock, probably because he has no ears. He repeated this question, but received no reply, and meanwhile the soft, shelled turtle never moved. Probably he grows out of the ground, the little mammal finally determined. No animal could walk with such a big stone on his back. At any rate he cannot be the dinosaur king. He was walking away from the soft, shelled turtle, when his nose caught another animal odor. It came from the log, lying half on the beach, half on the water. The dark object stretched full length upon it was another creature, a lizard with a long, thin snout and a long, thick tail, something like a small crocodile, although with fish-like gills and nostrils at the very tip of his nose. It was the crocodile lizard. The reptile was asleep, basking comfortably in the warm rays of the morning sun. Jock coughed noisily to make his presence known, whereupon the crocodile lizard slowly opened its eyes and gazed solemnly at the small intruder. Are you the ruler of the world? Jock inquired very politely. This must have seemed an odd question to the crocodile lizard. He never answered a word. Deaf, I suppose, thought the little mammal. He too has no ears. And with that he hopped closer. As he did so the unknown's long jaws opened very slowly and almost imperceptibly, but Jock got a glimpse of the sharp teeth in them and was on his guard. However he forgot to watch the reptile's tail. This had gradually curled itself into a bow. Swish! it let loose like a catapult, but Jock was just a bit too quick for it. Up he sprang in mid-air and the blow cleaved the air beneath him. Once beyond striking range Jock walked leisurely away for he could see that the crocodile lizard, like the soft-shelled turtle, was too slow and clumsy to catch him. Neither of them could be the ruler of the world. A real king would be up and about instead of lying around and doing nothing. Jock resumed his way, keeping back among the trees, for there was no telling what more creatures might be lying upon the beach. Suddenly he stopped. His nose brought more news. Not an animal odor, but the original sweet smell, something of unusual fragrance suggesting food. Sniff, sniff. His nostrils swelled and wiggled until finally they located the origin of that enticing smell. It was a huge cluster of yellow fruit hanging high above his head. Jock had never met a banana, but his trusty nose told him to climb that tree and get acquainted. This he did in quick time. A moment later he was perched upon the banana cluster, tearing one loose, and eating it skin and all. Um, yum. It was certainly delicious and so much of it. Jock could hardly hold it up in his two hands. Between bites he looked about him and noticed that other trees also bore fruit. Bananas, figs, nuts, and more bananas, and more nuts and, well, Jock's mouth watered at the sight and smell, but his stomach was now strained to the bursting point. One banana had stuffed him full. He descended to the ground and continued along the edge of the beach. He moved slowly now for every step gave him discomfort. This was because of the banana that filled his punch.  It was so good, but I ate too much. There was nothing left to do but find a bed somewhere and rest until his food had time to digest. Seeing a hollow stump nearby he crept into that and curled himself into a ball. He had scarcely closed his eyes when he heard a noise outside. A cry coming from far out in the lagoon. So he crawled from his refuge in all haste, for it might be that the noise was made by one of the terrible dinosaurs, possibly the ruler of the world himself. End of Section 3 Jock found walking a difficult matter because of the banana within him, which was rapidly asserting itself. He had about made up his mind to retrace his steps when he heard a second distant cry like the first one. As he looked over the watery expanse, he caught sight of an object floating upon the surface of the lagoon. It was far away and a mere speck, but Jock knew it to be an animal of some sort. It moved, in fact, everything inside and out of him seemed to be moving just then. However, his discomfort had not yet become acute enough to dull his interest in the distant floating object. There was a huge boulder lying upon the beach. It would make a fine lookout, so Jock went to it and began climbing up. This ladder was a difficult process. There were all sorts of bumps and things to cling to, but as soon as he touched them they began wiggling in all directions. This movement of the surface was soon communicated to the mass until the whole boulder was rocking and tossing like a ship in a stormy sea. By the time our hero arrived at the top he was too dizzy to stand. Cold perspiration oozed from his every pore. Oh, I am so sick, he groaned dismally. I wish I hadn't climbed up here. I want to get down. At this the wiggling stopped instantly. Jock saw one end of the mass beneath him turn partly around. An eye gazed in his direction.  Jock gasped and held his breath. The boulder was a huge animal at whose head he now gazed as he stood upon its back. I see you, little rascal, bellowed the creature in a deep voice. You want to get down? Good, I wish you would. Jock thought he surely must be dreaming, although he was feeling too sick just then to care much about anything. He started over the paved back, slipped on one of the knobs, and dug his nails in the crevices to keep from falling. The creature began wiggling again like one possessed. The bumps! Keep on the bumps! It squealed.  Jock tried his hardest to be agreeable, but he was too dizzy to steer a straight course, and his feet simply refused to stay on the slippery knobs. A renewed volley of wiggles sent him tumbling to the ground. This seeming disaster proved to salvation, for it made him disgorge the banana, a sure cure for biliousness. The world stopped spinning around, and Jock felt able to examine his new acquaintance, a most genial creature judging by his actions. He was squirming and giggling just as anyone would do when tickled under the ribs. Oh, my back! My sides! He squealed. Are you a dinosaur? Jock inquired. Never in my life have I seen an animal as large as you. No. The creature appeared greatly surprised. I thought myself quite small, probably because I do not get enough to eat. You are very little. You must be starved. He looked at Jock as though he really felt sorry for him. Whew!  I hope I may never see food again. But you! Are you a dinosaur? Certainly. Everybody knows me. Anklis, the armored dinosaur, always ready for fun and frolic, be it eating or sleeping. Are you the dinosaur king? Jock asked eagerly. He thought himself nearing his goal at last. King! No indeed was the answer. Nobody with claws and teeth like mine could be the king. It is my duty to amuse him. Amuse him? How? When he is cross, Anklis chuckled. You know he is always cross. He jumps on me and tries to bite his way through the plates on my back. Perhaps this does not amuse him exactly, but it keeps him busy and interested. I will show you how my part is done.  He squatted close to the ground, drawing in his head and legs like a turtle. In this attitude he was about as accessible as a walnut. The mailed coat shielded his back while the ground prevented any attack on his unarmored parts beneath.  Anklis turned sickly green.  Ugg, what's that? Eat me out of my shell. If you value my friendship, make no mention of such a thing to anyone. I would be ruined if our king had it suggested to him. A terrible idea. I feel faint. I must have nourishment. The monster, after much effort, raised his belly several inches from the ground and dragged himself down to a clump of plants growing near the water's edge. The food question made him forget his fears entirely. Having a head no bigger than his foot and not enough room in it for two ideas at once, he proceeded to gorge himself. While doing so he forgot all about the dinosaur king, jock, and everybody else. Big eater that, the little mammoth remarked as he watched the huge reptile gulping down bales of green stuff unshued.    Another one. Jock remembered the speck he had first seen far out in the lagoon. He had forgotten all about it in his meeting with the armored dinosaur. Perhaps the newcomer was the ruler of the world. He would go and see, so away he scampered and waited on the beach in front of the floating object as it swam toward him. The objecting question turned out to be a giant duck-like head and there was much more in the water beneath it. Suddenly it arose from the shallows and a huge body appeared, floundering and splashing among the lily pads and other plants growing near the water's edge. The duck head towered five yards high as the monster emerged upon dry ground at last and sat down upon the beach, using his gigantic hind limbs and long heavy tail as a three-legged stool. His front limbs were ridiculously small compared with the hind ones. Although a water reptile, his toes and fingers were tipped with blunt hooves instead of claws.  Who? What are you? he asked in surprise. I am a stranger here. Jock shouted at the top of his lungs so that his voice might reach the other's ears wherever they might be. I have come to see the dinosaur king who rules the world. Are you he? No, replied the monster emphatically. I am a dinosaur, but not the king. They call me the duck-bill. And so you are to meet our king. How distressing. However, that is your affair, not mine. Why? Do you know him? Too well for my own comfort, hissed the duck-bill. He would eat me hooves hide and all if I gave him the chance. What?  He must be very large and fierce. He certainly is, the monster declared. He glanced about him in a nervous manner as he said this. His bald paint glistened in the sunlight. It looked more like a green squash than a head. No ears were visible. Mere holes were ears ought to have been. How odd, thought Jock. None of these animals seem to have ears. I wonder what they hear with. I would suggest that you use caution in your dealings with our king, the duck-bill now said. I feel an interest in you because you do not seem disposed to harm me. Harm you? Jock wondered if he could have heard a right. The very idea of his harming such a giant seemed inexpressibly funny. No, I would not hurt you for anything, he chuckled. The duck-billed dinosaur appeared greatly relieved. I am so glad to hear you say that, he said gratefully. Our king feels differently about such matters. He is a flesh-eater, and, if you will pardon my frankness, he would eat you without a moment's hesitation. I disapprove strongly of the way he selects his food. I am a vegetable-eater, and would not treat you as he would. I never eat bugs. I am not a bug, cried our hero, flaring up. I am an a caterpillar, corrected the duck-bill much embarrassed. Nor a caterpillar, either, shouted Jock, in a great rage. No? The monster appeared genuinely astonished. How odd, you must be something. Nobody can be nothing.  My skin is smooth and scaly, therefore I am not a caterpillar. Are you a plant? This query was delivered in a trembling voice. The duck-bills forehead wrinkled with anxiety. No, I am not a plant, snapped our hero. The giant hissed a great sigh of relief. Good, he exclaimed, I fairly dote on plants, nice green ones, but it would break my heart if I were compelled to eat you. He glanced at the water behind him. Lily stems, um, yum. I will gather a few now if you do not mind.  Keep right on talking, I can hear every word you say. With that he waded into the shallows and began shoveling about in the mud with his spade-like bill. Jock watched this latter process with much interest. What do you do besides eat, he inquired?  I do that until it is time to wake up and eat some more. And, having eaten, I go to sleep again, replied the monster. It keeps me busy doing all these things, but I see no help for it. No, I cannot see just where you have any fun, Jock remarked, after a moment's thought. Seems to me we get more out of life if you did not eat and sleep so much. Impractical, declared the duck-bill in his most positive manner. Eat when the weather is warm, sleep when it is cool. Everybody does it that way. What if the weather stays cool? Stay asleep, replied the monster, while pleased with himself, at having so ready an answer. Jock was silent for a few moments. Why argue with this big, good-natured beast? He bethought himself of what he had come for and changed the subject. Where will I find the dinosaur king, he asked? Well, if you insist upon meeting him, keep right on, was the answer. When you hear an awful noise and see the most terrible thing you ever saw in all your life, you will have met him. I would take you to him, but I prefer eating to being eaten. May you stuff yourself and sleep until your dying day, said Jock, waving a paw in farewell. The duck-bill paused long enough in his feeding to bestow upon our hero a look of unutterable gratitude, that he turned again to the plants, and that was the last Jock saw of the duck-bill dinosaur. As our hero went his way along the shore of the lagoon, he heard no awful noises and saw nothing so terrible that it could be mistaken for a dinosaur king, although he soon encountered an animal, the most remarkable creature he had ever beheld. Standing among the tall rushes which grew thickly near the water's edge was a huge monster over six yards long. Its body was a wobbly globe supported by four pillar limbs, a pondrous alligator tail trailed along behind it. The most remarkable part of the creature was its head, which was more than half as long as its body. This head spread out behind like a frilled cape, covering the neck and shoulders. Two horns, each a yard long, projected directly over the eyes. A third and shorter one sprouted from between the nostrils like the horn of a rhinoceros. The front of the mouth terminated in a parrot-like beak. The monster was astonishing rather than terrible to look upon, furthermore it made no fearful noise. It was making some sounds, a subdued lamentation. As Jock came closer to his amusement, he saw that the creature was weeping, actually crying as though its heart would break. Real tears poured down its face and formed a puddle on the ground beneath. Jock mounted a cobblestone where he could sit out of the wet and look on. What are such creatures made for, he wondered? Even a dinosaur must be good for something, and yet I cannot see. Hi-ho! he suddenly cried out in alarm as the unknown lurched in his direction. Be careful there, look where you are going. The fat party stopped moving and gazed languidly about him. Finally he caught sight of Jock, where at his vast body trembled like a bowl of wine jelly. His weeping became so violent that it seemed as though the whole mass of flesh would shake itself to pieces. Have no fear, Jock shouted to reassure him, I will not hurt you. Now be a good dinosaur and stop crying. What is the trouble? Veinly the poor creature strove to check his sobs and tears. Lost, he wailed dismally. Oh, dear, poor little me, never will it return to me again. Jock glanced all around him but saw nothing that might be considered as a dinosaur's particular property. When he looked again at the unfortunate, he was much pleased, for the latter had ceased weeping and was fast recovering his control. I do believe it is coming back again, he said hopefully. I am sure it is coming back, I feel it. What did you lose? asked Jock. My appetite. I was eating and suddenly, for some unknown reason, I stopped. It was terrible. Appetite? Our hero nearly tumbled off his perch, he was so surprised. Perhaps I was unduly nervous, the monster explained, and yet it is so hard to get along these days. Food is not as plentiful as it was, and then the nights are so cold it makes me ill to think about it. Do I look thin and haggard? Not thin exactly, Jock chuckled. In fact, you appear to me quite hail and hearty. I was just wondering what all your horns are for, and that thing on the back of your head, what do you do with it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing was the answer. I wear those things because I have to. Now, if you will excuse me, I must eat and take my nap, so as to be perfectly fresh and rested for the next meal.   Ah, but you are wrong, replied the other sadly. I am the three horned dinosaur, but I have much more to do than is good for me. I walk, and I swim. These require tremendous effort, but how can they be avoided? Food cannot come to me, so I must go to it. Would that I could lie down and have somebody feed me for the rest of my life? Then I never need move. That would give you plenty of time to think, Jock remarked thoughtfully, and probably if you got to thinking, you would see the need of stirring about and taking more exercise. Think, think! The monster repeated dolly, what is there to think about? Particularly when you have nothing to think with, Jock added in a tone of biting sarcasm. Probably if you stopped eating long enough to think a moment, you would starve to death. Without question, the dinosaur agreed. If anything interfered with my eating and sleeping, I would perish. And it is fool, such as this, that drive my people into the jungle, away from the land of joy and plenty, thought our hero. What would this clumsy beast do if he were forced into a corner and had to fight? Cis, boom, ah, a terrible commotion ensued at that moment among the forest trees, screams, hisses, bellows, and the crashing of branches. Pandemonium had broken loose. The three-horned dinosaur turned in a panic and waddled into the lagoon as fast as his unwieldy body would permit. The king, he shrieked, the tyrant reptile king. Away he floundered and splashed until the water covered all but his eyes, nose, and projecting horns. Then he stopped and remained motionless. The tumult in the forest grew rapidly louder and nearer. Suddenly a thunderous voice bellowed, where is he? I smell flesh, and I will have it. Jock glanced at that part of the three-horned dinosaur which remained above water. The fugitive had heard the remarks and considered them too personal to suit him, for he had a sudden fit of shivers judging by the ripples and eddies about him. The cries and disturbance in the woods had by this time increased tenfold. Suddenly there arose a perfect bedlam of screams and bellows, and a gigantic monster burst into the open, uttering terrible noises and snapping its great jaws. To Jock, who had come to consider all dinosaurs as huge, helpless creatures, here was a sight fearful to behold. The colossal reptile head towered far above the trees. The jaws bristled with gleaming sabre teeth. The gnarled hide hung over the vast body in folds and creases. The long, heavily muscled legs contrasted strangely with the feeble arms. Each clawed, not hoofed, foot covered a square yard. The rear of the body tapered off in a long thick tail, which thrashed about like a flail, felling small trees and mowing down the underbrush. The bloodshot eyes, widely gaping jaws and murderous teeth, could have found no equal for hate and fearing. Jock saw and cowered in mortal fear. No need to ask. Here was the one he sought. The ruler of the world stood before him. Woe is me, he groaned. I have found him at last. Woe, woe. He looked wildly about him for a hole or someplace to hide, but saw none. The dinosaur king stood between him and the friendly trees. Behind spread the legume. The giant reptile bent low to sniff the ground. Jock could almost feel his hot breath. He crawled away along the beach, stomach to the ground, doing his best to escape unobserved. Vane hope. The monster saw him.  All was over and quickly, but not exactly as Jock expected.  His vast body shivered until the ground vibrated as from an earthquake. His fierce looks changed to abject terror. Here was an unknown creature whose like he had never seen. A diminutive being, and yet different from all other living things. The discovery threw him into a panic. With a blood-curdling screech he jumped back and bounded away at express train speed. Not for an instant did he consider the manner of his going. Anything to escape from the tiny creature he could not understand. His ponders tail got mixed up with his legs somehow and sent him sprawling to the earth. Head over heels he rolled, tearing great gashes in the ground with his clawed feet. In an instant he was up and on his way again, more frightened than ever. His flight led him to the woods and he tore through them, bellowing like a thousand mad bulls, knocking down trees and everything else that stood in his way. In less time than it takes to tell it he had disappeared in the forest, leaving a broad lane of torn and twisted vegetation to mark his cyclonic course. The cries and crashing gradually subsided and finally no sounds could be heard except the rippling of water upon the beach. Jock sat alone, watching open-mouthed and listening, until convinced that there was no more to see or hear. He felt himself all over to make sure he was alive. It is too strange to believe, he said, in an odd voice. The dinosaur king, ruler of the world, has fled from me.  They are huge and terrible to look at, but they have absolutely no sense at all. Ruler of the world. Bah! I could do better than the dinosaur king myself. My people will soon learn of what they are missing, and now back to the jungle, so that it all may know of the good things awaiting them in the country of the dinosaurs. End of Section 4 Section 5 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Kay Hand Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Jock the Jungle Jinks Part 3 The sun had set, and twilight was fast changing to night, when Jock finally completed his return journey across the jungle roof and descended to his old home. His companions and neighbors were scattered about, and not much in evidence, so he mounted a fallen tree and chattered his piercing call, which soon attracted the attention of all the forest dwellers. From every hole, brush pile, and hollow stump they came trooping around him. His absence had been the cause of much speculation, and all were curious to hear what he had to say. The first arrivals were mammals of his own kind, always looking for and welcoming any excitement. Then the burrowers, forever timid about venturing too far from their holes, and last of all the pouched animals. These latter were a glum lot, and by nature averse to new ideas of any kind. They trailed behind the rest, grumbling and shaking their heads like old granddaddies. The women folk wore apron skin pouches in most of which reposed sleepy infants, who squeaked and made a great fuss about being awakened so soon after beginning their night's rest. When all the jungle dwellers were settled down around the fallen tree and the youngsters quieted, Jock began the recital of his day's experiences. The pouched animals grunted their disapproval from the very first. To run away from home was unpardonable. They gazed at each other solemnly and shook their heads. Such folly could lead to no end but a bad one. The small mammals took an entirely different view of the matter. As far as they were concerned, Jock had his audience with him. They edged up to him as closely as possible, ears erect so as not to miss a single word. They were mightily interested. The burrowers, as usual, were neither this nor that. They took the middle ground, neither objecting nor approving, for fear of being drawn into an argument with one or other of the opposing factions. They were like straws, ready to bend whichever way the wind blew. It was a long, long journey across the jungle, said Jock. But I would have done it before, and many times, had I ever suspected what was at the other end of it. The trees finally became so few and far apart that I descended to the ground. I was looking and smelling at everything when suddenly an animal swooped down upon me from above. A dinosaur, moaned, old grump, where at all the burrowers and pouched animals shivered and held their breaths. Well, it looked more like a big bird to me, said Jock. I tumbled into a hole, and the creature did not know how to get me out, so it went away and bothered me no more. Didn't it hide and wait until you came out? One of the small mammals inquired. No, it did not have sense enough to do that. The small mammals tittered, but none of the others saw any fun in it. They took it as very serious a business. I crawled out of the hole again, Jock resumed. I thought I was getting near the end of the world, for there ahead of me was the sky upside down. I kept on to where the land ended and tried to peek over the edge. It was not sky, but water. I never saw so much of it in one place. Most of the dinosaur country is water, which is not surprising now that I think of it. Some of them lived there. And the dinosaurs tell us about them, begged one of the small mammals. I am coming to them, Jock replied. I smelled something so nice I felt hungry all over, but I smelled something else, too, that I did not like so much. What was that? peeped one of the pouched animals. A strange creature without legs, and wearing a big stone on his back. He attempted to bite me, but I kept out of his way, and he did not even try to catch me. Soon I smelled another. Dinosaur? Old grump inquired in an odd voice. No. Another slow-footed creature. He tried to hit me with his tail, but I jumped out of the way. The thing knew it could never catch me, nor did it try. Seeing nothing to fear from him, I hunted around to see what made the nice smell. The burrowers and pouched animals began to pluck up courage. Nothing very terrible had happened as yet. What was it? Old grump ventured to inquire. A tree bearing a cluster of luscious food. A single fruit stuffed me to bursting. There were as many in the cluster as there are of you.  He licked his chops greedily. And this tree bearing fruit. Is there more than one? He inquired. I, a whole forest of the best, and choice his food all going to waste. Nobody wants them. Nobody eats them. How about the dinosaurs? Grunted one of the pouched animals. Old grump doubled up and relapsed into his former gloom. Yes, how about them? He repeated. There may be some good in the dinosaur country, but probably bad too and more of it. Jock winked at the small mammals, then addressed himself to the pouched animals in a heart-to-heart manner. Even old grump experienced a thrill of pleasure at being thus taken into the speaker's confidence. I, the dinosaurs. Now listen carefully for I have much to say about them. Every pair of eyes and ears were now centered upon Jock. Every breath was stilled. Only the rustling of breeze-blown leaves and the subdued murmurs of fast-beating hearts broke the stillness of the jungle. The fruit I ate made me sick. Jock confessed, much to the amusement of his small mammal friends. I was preparing to lie down somewhere when I heard a noise out in the water. There was a huge rock nearby, and I climbed up on that so as to see better. You will be surprised to learn that the rock was a huge dinosaur. The pouched animals nearly jumped out of their skins. Old grump could scarcely believe his ears. Most surprising, remarkable, he gasped. Did the monster roar terribly and gnash his teeth? No, he made no sound. However, he wiggled around so that it was all I could do to stay on top of him. His back was covered with many knobbed plates. You would think that he could feel nothing through them, but my claws tickled him in the creases where the plates joined together, and he could not bear it. He begged me to get down. And what did you do? Giggled one of the small mammals.  He shook me off. However, he shook the banana out of me too, and I felt well again. He was a very harmless dinosaur. I tried to learn something about him, but he was hungry and had no time for me. He began gulping down all sorts of plants growing near the water. Another dinosaur appeared just then. He swam ashore from far out somewhere. He was quite different from the first one, although big and silly too. He thought I was a bug, and then a caterpillar, and finally a plant. I talked with him a few moments, but he became so hungry, listening, that he too began gobbling up all the water plants within his reach. It was this one who told me that the dinosaurs did nothing else but eat and sleep. Jock paused to rest his voice. The small mammals began giggling and chatting among themselves. One of them squeaked, eat and sleep, and this became a catchword to amuse the rest of them. Is that all? inquired one. I'd like to hear you tell of these dinosaurs. I never imagined that they were so silly. Yes, there was another one, said Jock. When I met him he was crying because his appetite had left him for a few moments, and he feared he would starve to death. He really was a terrible looking monster with horns and all sorts of things growing out of his head. I was not much larger than his toenail, but he was frightened when he first saw me. This was too much. The small mammals could not restrain their merriment. These dinosaurs were so very amusing that it seemed ridiculous to think of fearing them. The pouched animals, however, felt differently. Dinosaurs were dinosaurs, and there was no denying that. Old Grump was determined that nobody would make a fool of him. That may be true of some, he grunted, sourly. But how about the dinosaur king? The lot of us would be a mere mouthful for him. He would swallow us alive if he had the chance. The burrowers and pouched animals replied to these glum words of the joy-killer, with moans and despairing squeaks. Woe to us! The dinosaur king will destroy us! Fly, hide, run! Old Grump sat rocking from side to side, wailing. Woe, woe! Our end is near! The others joined in dismal chorus, then the babies woke up, and their squeaks and squalls were added to the din. It began to look as though the meeting might break up in a mad stampede for the darkest, dampest corner of the jungle. Jock ran up and down, the fallen trees screaming at the frightened crowd. Be quiet until I tell you of the dinosaur king. What I say will surprise you. You have said enough, snorted one of the pouched animals, an old fossil with a low forehead and retreating chin.  Why? Because of the dinosaur king. He will eat every last one of us alive. He did not eat me, said Jock. When he saw me, he was so frightened he ran away. How, snorted Old Grump, ran away from you. Oomph, oomph! Surprising! Remarkable! I can scarcely believe it. As you choose, Jock declared boldly, but others will because it is the truth. Vegetable eaters, flesh eaters, dinosaur king. They are all alike, too clumsy to do anything but eat and sleep, too big to keep out of their own way. They have no sense. Has anyone sense who would let all those nuts and fruits go to waste? Don't you think it is about time for us to make use of them ourselves? This last query was addressed to Old Grump. It touched a tender spot. His appetite. Nuts. Fruits. Um, well that's different. If you are positive that the dinosaurs would not harm us and that we could have the food all to ourselves, I might think about it. The small mammals cheered lustily. The burrowers screamed, and the pouched animals began smacking their lips. Jock's eyes glistened. The battle was as good as one. Good, he said, the dinosaurs will not harm us and the food will be ours. And he grinned at the small mammals as much as to say and plenty of fun to go with it. His audience was now in as receptive a mood as any such audience could be. Jock raised his voice and shouted boldly. So now we are agreed. Tomorrow I lead you from the jungle to our new home. Pandemonium rained. Everybody squeaking, jabbering, and grunting at once. Doing a thing was different from saying it. The small mammals shouted aye to the very last one. But the pouched animals grew timid again and did not respond. They were hard to move. Nuts, fruit, murmured old grump in an agony of doubt. But his mates heard and gave up the hopeless struggle. They yielded. The idea of so much good food going to waste was more than their greedy stomachs could endure. All then sought their nests to rest and prepare for the next day's momentous event. The tremendous change from darkness to light whose influence was to reach every corner of the earth. The small mammals were up bright and early. Their hearts and minds filled with joy at the thought of the near end of dampness and gloom and the new life opening before them. They raced about in wild excitement filling the air with their noisy chatter. Even the pouched animals caught a bit of the general enthusiasm, although they were not backward in admitting that the food attraction more than influenced their final decision. They lined up with mouths dripping, awaiting the signal to start. The timid burrowers plucked up courage and took their places in the rear, where they could change their minds and turn back if anything went wrong. The last of the jungle dwellers were now in their places. Every baby was tucked away in its mother's apron pouch or fastened securely upon her back. Jock gave the signal and the exodus began. Through break and thicket and overfallen trees the strange procession swept onward, a compact, moving mass irresistible as the waves of the sea. The days of the dinosaur were nearing their end and a new order of things, the race of mammals, was coming to its own at last. End of Section 5 Section 6 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Devorah Allen Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Eohippus the Dawn Horse Introduction No creature, not even man himself, can boast of an ancient, unbroken pedigree equal to that of the horse. His bones are found in the rocks of every period of the age of mammals, and almost every stage of his development is known. Beginning in the Dawn Recent, Eocene period, as a little nobody about the size of a fox, he grew to be the large and accomplished horse of today. And yet his first appearance was not really his beginning, for even Eohippus grew from something as yet undiscovered. When found, this something will doubtless prove to be a little five-toed hoofed creature, no bigger than a cat. Eohippus the Dawn Horse is known, however, and must suffice for the present. He had four hoofed toes, but even at this stage it would seem that his career was already mapped out, for his feet were undergoing certain changes, and his teeth had already outlined the pattern they were to assume in ages to come. These changes in feet and teeth pointed to a life upon the open plains at some time in the distant future, his feet becoming one-toed and rigid to ensure speed over hard, level ground, and his teeth assuming a long crowned form suitable for chewing tough, wiry grass. The Dawn Recent rocks of southwestern Wyoming in which the bones of Eohippus are found do not tell us all this, quite the contrary. Nobody would have guessed him to be a horse had not the rocks of successive periods shown so clearly his passing from one stage to the next. There is a vast gap between an acorn and an oak, unless one plants the acorn and can watch it grow. The Rocky Mountain Region from Montana to New Mexico, and particularly that portion of it which lies in southwestern Wyoming east of the Wasatch Range, was the cradle of mammals. Their bones appear here in great numbers, representing a large variety of small creatures which were just beginning to fit themselves for their various careers. Horses, camels, tapirs, and others had not progressed far enough to be easily distinguished one from another, and beasts of prey, with very few exceptions, were in a very unfinished state. Many of the flesh and plant-eaters were so much alike that they seemed to have been originally cast in the same mold. None of these dawn recent creatures exist today, and only in a very general way can we liken them to modern animals. Eohippus was no more a horse than an acorn is an oak, although he became one. There was still plenty of time to attain his end, however, for he had a good start with something like four million more years to go. End of Section 6 Section 7 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Tom Mack, Tucson, Arizona. Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Section 7 Eohippus the Dawn Horse This was my second summer in the Badlands of the Big Horn Basin. That vast expanse of rugged country which lies nestled among the Big Horn, Shoshone, and Wind River Mountains of Western Wyoming. I was a hunter of extinct animals and the Badlands were my hunting grounds. Particularly that portion of the Big Horn Basin which borders the Grey Bull River. The sun had not yet emerged from behind the eastern hills when I left my headquarters at the YU Ranch and rode off northeastward on horseback along the right bank of the Grey Bull River. Besides my sleeping bag and provisions I carried a handpick and a leather bag. The latter was for transporting small specimens. One peculiarity of the Wasatch rocks was that the fossil bones were those of comparatively small animals. Naturally this relieved the difficulty of transporting them very materially, for in the Badlands where horse and pack saddle were the only means of conveyance, the problem of bringing away large specimens was a most perplexing one. However the particular object of my search was not large. My real mission in the Big Horn Badlands was to find the petrified remains of a four-toed horse. Not a few bones but an entire skeleton. One whole season and thousands of dollars had already been vainly spent. I was now in the midst of my second effort. If necessary I was to make a third. Twenty-five thousand dollars had been set aside and I was to use all of it if necessary in securing the complete fossil skeleton of a four-toed horse. Day after day, month after month, I had ridden my cow pony through the sage brush over hills, through gullies, exploring every foot of the Big Horn Basin where the exposed rock layers gave chance of finding what I sought. I discovered many petrified bone fragments, some whole bones, but no complete skeletons. It would seem as though any that might have been entombed within the rocks must have been ground to bits by the weight of the mountains piled over them. It was a wearing, tiring and apparently hopeless quest. Nevertheless I persisted, hoping each day that my hand would be the first to pluck a four-toed horse from the tomb where it had lain buried for possibly four million years. Then as each day went by without result I pinned my hopes on the next. And so it went for one whole season and the half of another, up to the time I now tell of. Much money and effort had been apparently wasted, but as I saddled my pony for another journey into the Badlands, my former discouragements were forgotten in the renewed hope and determination that followed upon the heels of a night's comfortable rest and a most appetizing breakfast. That morning I was up and doing earlier than usual. A driving rain had kept me indoors idle and restless the whole previous day. My journey to the fossil-bearing ledges was a tedious one because of the sticky clay mud which dragged hard on my pony's feet. As I rode along the slopes between the river and the Tatman Mountain we had several tumbles on the slippery incline. However we arrived safely beneath the ledges at last. Here I dismounted, picketed my pony, and climbed up the rocks on foot. The air now fairly sizzled with steaming heat, for by this time the sun was well up and its hot rays smoked mercilessly upon the dripping ledges. Only those who have roamed over this shadeless region bear a vegetation except for the ever present sagebrush can appreciate the discomforts of a hot sticky day in the big horn Badlands. Had it not been for my broad-rimmed felt hat my brains would have stewed in my head. As I mounted to the upper ledges my every step had to be taken with the utmost care. The steep slippery slope offered insecure footing at best and a single misstep would have meant a bad tumble to the ground below. I was a fool, or at least I was according to W, who said of my hunting, none but a crazy man would climb around those rocks looking for busted bones. However it was my business being so crazy and on this particular day the heat and humidity made me crazier than ever. I was squirming my way along the face of the cliff wishing myself in Hades or any other comparatively cool place when I caught sight of something that made me forget instantly all personal discomfort. There, partly protruding from the rock above my head was a fossil jawbone about four inches long. The row of black shining teeth resembled a string of semi-precious stones. They looked like jewels to me but then as W had said, I must have been crazy. Also the day was frightfully hot. With my pick I chipped the enveloping stone away bit by bit until finally I had partly uncovered a little skull, less than six inches in length. It was a perfect beauty. Did I rest content with that? No indeed. I cut away the matrix at the base of the skull and was rewarded by finding the neck bones. Chopping farther along I encountered part of a shoulder blade. I became greatly excited as the work progressed. My sensations were those of a miner who having struck a gold-bearing vein was digging his way into a nest of nuggets. I continued stripping away the stone until I had brought to light the lower half of one front leg. Next came the foot. I stared like one in a trance. W would have pronounced me crazy beyond the shadow of a doubt. Could he have seen me at that moment? It was a wonderful little foot about the size of a fox terriers. But the toes, four of them, were tipped not with claws but tiny horse-like hoofs, no bigger than my little fingernail. Talk about pedigree. My own faded into insignificance. My pony, picketed far below me could, if he knew how, have traced his back several million years. There was the record clear and indisputable. I had unlocked it from the ancient archives, signed and sealed by nature's own hand. No expert could have forged that record or counterfeited the evidence of its great antiquity. That evidence was the fossil skeleton of the patriarch. A little creature not much larger than an air dale and wearing not one but four hoofs on each of his four feet. I had found my four-toed horse at last. A whinny sounded below me. I looked down and saw that my pony was watching me. He looked every inch the aristocrat he was, where I felt humbled. What were my few hundred years of lineage to his millions? A wave of dizziness suddenly reminded me that the sun had become undurably hot. So much so that the steel band of my stone pick burned my hand. The heat, together with my excitement and labors, had so exhausted me that I saw the wisdom of descending to the ground for shade and rest. So down I went, taking the little stone skull with me for safekeeping. It was but the work of a few moments to free it from the friable matrix and place it in my bag. This done I carefully marked the spot where the balance of the skeleton lay buried and descended the cliffs. When on solid ground once more, I led my pony into the shade of an overhanging ledge and sat down beside him. Here I rested and refreshed myself with a bit of food and drink. The combination of relaxation and nourishment made me feel much better and so delightfully lazy that I settled back against the rock, gazing dreamily into space through half-closed eyes.  Oh, ho! I said. Allow me to introduce your hundred thousandth great grandfather. I met him only this morning. With that I reached into the bag and drew forth the little stone skull. My pony eyed it curiously. Reverently, I thought. He appeared much interested. It was long ages ago, I said. These badlands were a low marshy region, quite different from now. Even the animals were different. All were dwarfs. They disappeared in time and no one knows what became of them. Everything has changed greatly since the old days. Even this little horse, his teeth, his bones, his foretoes have become one and he has grown so large. I paused. The glare on the surface of the gray bowl river was so dazzling, I gazed from it to the distant hills. I was not at all startled to observe that the latter were slowly settling down. At the same time the valley was rising to meet them. Gradually the land surface flattened and smoothed itself out. Trees emerged, forming a green forest background. Grass, bushes, and other vegetation unfolded toward me like a vast green carpet. Not a breath stirred the air. All was deathly still. At first the vast panorama upon which I gazed seemed absolutely destitute of life. I felt as though I had been suddenly transported into the land of nobody and nowhere. But as my eyes grew accustomed to my unfamiliar surroundings, gradually I became conscious of a figure standing before me.  The latter aroused my particular interest. Each toe, four on the front and three on the hind feet, was tipped with a miniature hoof. The sight of those little feet affected me strangely. I could only sit and stare at them until I finally became aware that their owner was, in his turn, staring at mine. I managed to find the use of my tongue. Who are you, I asked? Eohippus the Dawn Horse. Oh, and for a moment that was all I could say. It was something of a shock, although a pleasant one, to find myself in the presence of a living, four-toed horse. You interest me very much, I stammered. Four hoofed toes. One rarely sees so many on a horse's foot. Only three on my hind ones, Eohippus corrected me very graciously. UIC have only one. He was looking at my boots as he said this. They appeared to puzzle him. He made a pretty picture as he stood there, watching them with his head cocked on one side. I was about to speak again when I noticed a small animal passing near us. I thought it was a weasel at first, but although slightly resembling one, it was quite different. Clumsier in appearance and actions. It paid no attention to me, but watched the Dawn Horse closely as it slouched slowly past. No mistaking that look, it boated ill for my companion. The latter had by this time espied the evil-looking stranger. He fidgeted uneasily and then sighed with relief as the intruder crawled away and disappeared into the grass. I sent it complications. Eohippus, as I could see, was much disturbed. Who was that, I asked? A killer. A fleshy animal, you mean? Eohippus shuddered. You think so, he asked timidly. I can hardly bring myself to believe it, and yet something tells me that you may be right. Of course I am right. That little weasely fellow could not eat anything but flesh if he tried. The Dawn Horse appeared stunned, but in a moment he recovered himself. Do you think that the Bearcats will ever fall into such evil ways, he inquired anxiously? Bearcats? The name puzzled me. I thought myself familiar with every animal that lived under the sun or moon, but here was a new variety. What is a Bearcat, I asked? Something like a killer. Something like a grass-eater was the answer. Which does it resemble most? Killer, Eohippus replied. When we first came to this country, the Bearcats were grass-eaters and looked like them. But time has changed that. Now they slink and crawl and spend their time away from us and with the killers.  It is said that they are not above eating the flesh of other animals. However, they never ate any one of us that I know of. That last statement seemed to give my companion no little comfort. The ones killed and eaten would hardly be in a position to tell of their experiences, I suggested. You are being imposed upon. The killers are picking you out one by one, and I suspect that your former grass-eating friends, the Bearcats, are getting the bones and leavings after the killers have gorged themselves. From what you say, I'm guessing that a Bearcat is a sort of hyena animal. Eohippus appeared greatly disturbed by my remarks. You mean that they and the killers are our enemies? I am sure of it. Why, that means war, Dawn Horse exclaimed. Beast fighting beast. What are we to do? Do? Well, now, really. I pondered, and as I did so, a great wave of pity swept over me. This pretty little creature is the horse I thought to myself. True, he is but the seed. But what of his growth is blighted, and he is not permitted to develop? Man's best friend and helper would be lost to him forever. It was a pretty state of affairs. The killers had long ago broken away from the grass-eaters. The Bearcats were now doing the same thing. Eohippus would be overwhelmed by his enemies unless someone warned him of his danger. Who but I could warn and watch over him? What a responsibility. The future of the horse was now in my keeping. With this sudden realization of responsibility, a terrible feeling of loneliness came over me. Here was I, a solitary man, come into being millions of years before my time. Never could I look upon a human face I had no friends, none but the dawn horse. I vowed that henceforth I would devote my life to him and him alone. By guiding him safely through this trying period, mine would be the greatest service that now lay within my power to perform for the benefit of all mankind. End of Section 7, Recording by Tom Mack. Section 8 of Stories of the First American Animals. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Betsy Walker, Santa Fe, New Mexico. Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford. Eohippus, the Dawn Horse. Part 2. A loud snort suddenly disturbed my train of thought. Eohippus was gazing into the distance at a myriad of moving specks which dotted the country for miles around. They seemed to be concentrating in one large central mass. Something unusual has occurred, my companion said. My people are all herding together. So saying, he turned away from me and moved towards the distant specks. I rose to my feet and followed, taking good care not to tread upon Eohippus as I walked close behind him. Tread on him? That may sound strange, but it must be remembered that although he was a horse and fully grown, nevertheless he was very, very small. I made a hasty survey of the country as we proceeded. The rugged hills and gullies of the big horn had resolved themselves into a broad low land covered with long grass and swampy growth. The gray bull river had almost disappeared in the background behind a thin line of stunted trees. Far to the west, a range of low hills cut the skyline with their gray crests. I seemed to recognize in them the beginning of a vast scar, the Shoshone Mountains, slowly erupting from the earth. The air I breathed was warm and oppressive, the ground moist and yielding underfoot. Strange birds arose from the scattered patches of protruding vegetation, flapping away with much labor and noise. The vegetation was that of semi-tropics. We were gradually drawing nearer to the outskirts of the moving mass, so near that I could distinguish the various individuals. I felt myself in a strange new world whose inhabitants were even more strange than the climate and country itself. Here were new faces and forms trooping before me in swarms. Soon we were in the midst of them and formed a part of the flood flowing toward the central mass. The dawn horse attracted considerable attention, but none seemed to notice me. I was a giant towering in their midst, and yet, strange to say, I neither jostled nor tread upon one of the vast throng packed closely about me. Neither by look nor act did they betray knowledge of my presence. Strange. Bewilderingly strange all these animals were to me, and yet, as I noted the bony structure concealed for the most part beneath flesh and hide, they appeared less strange and unfamiliar. I did not know them, but somehow or other I had learned to know their bones. Animals of the dawn horse's own species began crowding about Eohippus in endless color and variety, gradually forcing the others aside. My companion was evidently an individual of considerable importance. Judging by the way they formed an escort about him, leaving him plenty of room in the center. They were of many kinds and sizes. Numerous cults followed their mothers, frisking with each other like kittens. They reminded me very much of kittens with their supple bodies, many toed feet, and long flexible tails. Not one of the grown animals was larger than a bull terrier, and yet they were not cat-like nor dog-like at all. They were tapirs too, tiny monkeys, squirrels, and various other small creatures too strange to compare with any I knew of. Further on we encountered a new set of animals, the knuckle joints, larger than the dawn horses, but quite like them in general appearance. They were more stolid, however, and far less active than the horses. They wore five toes on each of their four feet. There was something pig-ish in their manner. I judged that they could be fairly good fighters if anyone offended them. These knuckle-joint animals were simply an enlarged addition of the general type. Creatures with five hoofed feet, loosely connected bodies, heavy tails, and elongated heads. The latter seemed to have very little room in them for brains. In this latter respect, Yeo Hippus showed marked superiority over the other animals, whereas I felt a new pride in my little four-toed horse. Although old-fashioned, he possessed more than his share of good common sense. Some of the small animals, although strange, were more or less familiar to me. One of them I passed had his mouth open so that I could see his front teeth. The middle two in each jaw, thick and long, showed that he was a gnawing animal. Another had the making of a hedgehog. I could tell this by his peculiar teeth. The tooth plan in general was four, eleven, forty-four. Four jaws, eleven teeth in each jaw, forty-four teeth in all. I looked into every open mouth I saw. It was a wonderful experience. I felt like an overgrown child amid the creatures of a toy Noah's Ark, all wound up and ready to go. By this time, we were near the center of the vast herd. My ears caught the sounds of many voices grunting and squealing.  Yeo Hippus turned his head and gazed at me. I could not resist the peel of those soft eyes. They seemed to say, Perhaps you know better than I. There may be traitors amongst us, and, if so, you are here to guide me. I edged closer to him, and side by side we made our way into the very center of the throng. Here stood a compact mass of pudgy-bodied animals. They were the largest I had yet seen. In size and general appearance, they somewhat resembled the African hippopotamus. The points of two canine tusks peeped from beneath their upper lips. These were the grass-eating fighters, I judged, by the way they bellowed and snapped their jaws together. They were ambly-pods, or stumpy-foot animals. As they stood in a semicircle, shoulder to shoulder, three ranks deep, one of them the largest, emerged from the group in advance to meet the dawn horse. Oxena has killed a dawn cult, he bellowed. What shall be done with him? Yeohippus shuddered. This is terrible news. What is he to say? The ambly-pod gave a signal, and soon a squad of his creatures were hustling the culpit before Yeohippus. Oxena was an unwholesome-looking group, something like a wolverine.  His feet were tipped with dog-like claws.  Oxena's manner now savored a cowardice, but even a coward may make a bold stand when cornered. Suddenly his hair bristled, and he showed his teeth, all the time glaring fiercely at his captors. At this show of fight the stumpy-foot leader confronted him with tusks bared. Oxena quailed and hung his head. Let me go, he whined. Why do you treat me so? Yes, why? Shame, shame, piped a shrill voice. All eyes turned toward the speaker, a shifty-eyed, long-bodied individual the size of a small cat. It's the puppy-mink, someone snorted. He is as bad as the other one. Not so, the small meddler retorted. I may be a bear-cat, but what of it? Is there any harm in that? He glanced at Oxena reassuringly, out of his beady eyes. The prisoners' face brightened, his courage revived. Yes, what harm, he growled, and as for the killing, I have plenty of friends to prove my innocence. We are all friends here, said Eohippus. We will listen. I, for one, will be glad to hear someone prove that what you say is true. Oxena gave to furtively about him. They are not here, he said. Hmm. He means the bear-cats, said the stumpy foot-leader. Nobody knows where they hide themselves these days. I do, the puppy-mink volunteered. If you wish, I will go and fetch them. Do so, Eohippus commanded. Instantly the puppy-mink darted away, squirming through the crowd like a ferret. In a surprisingly short space of time, he emerged in the distance and raced off to the woods. Oxena seemed much pleased with the way his affair was progressing. He gazed boldly about him.   They shrank back into the crowd and soon made themselves scarce. Other small fry followed their example until finally only the larger animals remained. What a gathering! The dawn horse, Oxena and myself occupied the center. The large, stumpy foot and knuckle-joint animals were massed closely about us, with the tapirs and horses forming another ring outside of them. It was a court scene such as I had never looked upon in all my born days. In the open air of Wyoming and conducted entirely by strange animals. Eohippus was the judge, the herd of grass-eaters was the jury, and the stumpy foot and large knuckle-joint animals were there to preserve order. It was to be a fair trial, otherwise Oxena would have been summarily dealt with long before this. He was to be tried before a jury of his peers, or rather his former associates. The crime of which he was accused was murder. He had done no worse than any flesh-eating animal, but beasts of prey were not yet generally recognized as such. Therefore killing and eating a fellow creature was a very serious offense. Oxena was guilty, I felt sure of that. His hyena-like teeth were evidence enough for me. But the grass-eaters knew nothing about the meaning of teeth and were delving after the truth in their own way. As an interested spectator and guardian of my little horse, I, with the others, awaited the developments in the case of herd versus oxena, or rather in the first break between the flesh-eating and vegetable-eating animals of the big horn basin. End of Section 8, Recording by Betsy Walker Section 9 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brian Dirks Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Section 9 A feeling of tenseness was in the air. The assembled animals gazed solemnly at each other as though anticipating trouble of some sort. They knew not what. Oxena's eyes turned from time to time toward the distant woods. Suddenly his face brightened. His tail began to squirm. I looked to the woods and saw a group of animals coming toward us. Those on the outskirts of the throng were the first to espy the newcomers. It was but a small compact group approaching. But the grass-eaters gave way before them, rolling back and aside in two great waves. They feared the bear-cats, fused the latter were, and meant to give them plenty of room. This commotion communicated itself rapidly to the central mass until it threatened to assume the proportions of a route. At this juncture, the knuckled joint and stumpy foot-animals drew more closely together in two columns, facing each other and leaving a lane between. The newcomers came rapidly down this lane to where Oxena was sitting, awaiting them. And so, these were the bear-cats. As they drew nearer, I had a fine opportunity to study each one of them. Their leader was a savage-looking brute, so different from Oxena that I ceased to wonder why the grass-eaters were so afraid of him. He was very cat-like and short-faced, in size and form, quite similar to a cougar or rocky mountain lion. Of all that vast assemblage, grass-eaters and bear-cats both, none was as large and strong as he. His eyes ran swiftly over the knuckle joints and stumpy foot-animals as he passed between them. A dozen or more strange-looking and mostly small creatures trailed behind him, all stopped in the central open space and seated themselves behind Oxena. One of them, the bear-dog, rivaled his chief in size but was clumsier, a far less active animal. The grass-eaters had eyes only for these two large brutes, but my interest soon became drawn to their smaller companions. These were a strange lot, each a composite of civet and fox, weasel, or some other flesh-eating type. Several of them were no larger than ferrets, and resembled ferrets somewhat. All of them bore the dread stamp of the true flesh-eater, supple bodies, clawed feet, keen eyes, and sharp-edged teeth. These small creatures were those whom Yohipus had termed the killers. They sat waiting, watching the knuckle joints and stumpy foot-animals from the corners of their eyes. I was close by and ready, fully determined to protect the dawn horse if necessary. It is claimed that Oxena killed one of my people, said the latter, addressing the crowd of grass-eaters. Who can prove it? I, a small rope-killed creature, emerged from the throng and sprang upon the arched back of one of the knuckle joints so as to be better seen and heard. The killers scowled at such temerity, but the newcomer paid no attention to them. He was the chip-monkey. A good witness, I thought, for he looked like a tree-animal with keen wits and eyes. His first words showed that I had made a very good guess. I lived in the forest, he chattered boldly. I was sitting in a tree last night and saw him, indicating Oxena, devouring an animal, one of the dawn colts who lay dead upon the ground. Everybody gasped and stared at the culprit. The killers growled angrily and bit their lips. How could you see at night, snarled their fierce leader? I can see in the dark as well as you, the midget retorted. How about the night before, when you were sneaking up to—I object, were the big killer later, but nobody heard because of the squeaks, snorts, and other noises which now filled the air. I saw Oxena, too, piped a shrill voice, and the chuck-scroll hopped out into the open. He, too, was a tree-climber. He, like the first tale-bearer, was given to night-roving habits. For these reasons alone he appeared well-qualified as a second excellent witness. The chip-monkey speaks the truth, he said. I sought myself and something else, too. Oxena not only ate the dawn colt, he killed him. Who would believe a chuck-squirrel? Screeched the puss-weasel, fiercest of the small killers. He is a thief, who is forever stealing the bird's eggs. But who leaves the young birds for you to eat? was the prompt retort. Could for you, I chuckled. Spunk! The squirrel and the chip-monkey both had more than their little bodies would hold. The puss-weasel was fairly swept off his feet. Ah! he glared at his accuser fiercely. He could say no more. He was so enraged. You have heard our two witnesses, the dawn horse now said to the prisoner. What have you to offer in your own behalf? I did come upon the body, Oxena admitted. But I was not devouring it. Never was I more surprised than when I sought lying there. But you chewed and slobbered the chuck-squirrel, remonstrated. I did but grieve, replied the culprit, rolling his eyes skyward. He appeared so innocent that the killers smirked at each other, as though it were an excellent joke. What these two little rascals say is all lies, Oxena said after a moment's pause. How can it be true when grass, not flesh, is my food? He leered at those about him, evidently thinking that his statement was conclusive and that soon he would go scot-free. The voice of the dawn horse brought him to his senses. Grass, your food? We will soon see about that. Bring grass, he shouted. The accused is about to show us that he has not yet learned how to eat flesh. The dawn horse's commands were instantly obeyed. Grass was brought and piled before the prisoner, who grew more and more crestfallen as the arrangements progressed. He looked at the green fodder with a rye face, then glanced appealingly at his friends, the killers. The latter held their peace, taking cruel satisfaction in his confusion and curious to see what he would do next. The grass-eaters crowded closer around him, eager for him to begin. Make haste, bellow the leader of the stumpy foot-animals. We cannot wait on you forever. Aksena's teeth gleamed. In his desperation he became almost ferocious. His friends edged closer to him. The knuckle joints, in their turn, began to crowd forward. The stumpy foot-animals rattled their tusks. For an instant a clash appeared unavoidable, but the killers saw that they were vastly outnumbered. They abandoned their threatening attitude. There was no help for Aksena now. The law must take its course. He put on a bold front, bent over the heap of grass, and seized a mouthful. That was as far as he got for the moment. I could not help smiling. It was all so ridiculous. It was as though he had made up his mind to take his dose of bad medicine and had lost heart at the last moment. Again the stumpy foot-animals snapped their jaws together.  The task was beyond his powers. He gasped, choked, sped out the half-chewed morsel, and sat with bowed head a picture of hopeless confusion. The crowd began to murmur. The bear-cat had proven himself guilty by his own evidence. Surely he could not be permitted to go unpunished. All eyes were turned to Eohippus. He hesitated. The killers were crouching low, as though making ready to spring upon the knuckle-joint and stump-foot-animals who in their turn were set and waiting to charge. It was a critical moment.  It was high time for me to take a hand. Aksena is a flesh-eater, I whispered to the dawn horse. Waste no more time proving that. Danger threatens. The bear-cats and the killers have joined forces against you and yours. Rid yourself of Aksena and his friends. Act quickly before it is too late. I did not add that I could then see numerous figures emerging one by one from the distant woods. If the grass-eaters did not be stirred themselves, they would soon be overwhelmed by their fierce enemies. But the sharp-eyed killer-leader had also caught sight of the distant figures. He sprang to his feet and bared his teeth at the crowd. Aksena is innocent, he snarled. Come, let us go. Good! Tell your friends not to interfere with them, I said to the dawn horse. The quicker they go, the better. Their friends are swarming to their aid. The dawn horse trembled. He began to realize his danger. Let them pass, he called to the stumpy foot-animals. The latter snorted and stamped their feet angrily, but fell back obediently nevertheless. The killers with Aksena in their midst passed through. And now tell your people to fly and save themselves, I directed. Quick! The killers are coming. They cannot catch you if you will only run. But there was no need for this latter warning. Others had already detected the approaching figures and given the alarm. The vast herd of grass-eaters wavered, then burst into panic-stricken flight across the lowlands, like leaves blown by the driving wind. The spell was broken. Killers and bear-cats both arose from their crawling positions and hurried after, barking and howling at the top of their lungs. The next moment I found myself in the midst of a sea of swirling animals, which bore me along like a chip upon the ocean tide. The dawn horse was whisked away from me, and although I hurried after him as fast as I could, the distance between us rapidly widened. My breath came in gasps, my speed slackened with exhaustion because of the swiftness of the pace. The last of the grass-eaters sped past me, and I stood alone. I looked behind me. Killers and bear-cats both had abandoned the chase and were trooping back to the woods. The killers were not persistent runners and detested a long-sturn chase. The grass-eaters would return sooner or later and could be dealt with one at a time. As for the bear-cats, now that they had shown their true colors, they too must learn to crawl and spring upon their prey. I looked before me. The distant horizon had risen and become a line of hills whose crust stood a little creature with head turned as though looking for something or somebody behind him. He was far away. Wait! Wait, little horse! I cried, but he was too distant to hear me. The figure resumed its way and disappeared over the hills. I endeavored to follow, but the ground before me, which was continually rising, suddenly shot up to a great height and barred my further advanced. Lost, I groaned. My little horse has left me, and I will see him no more. Then came a sudden change. It was as though I had been whisked away into another world. A flood of fire burst through the sky overhead and almost blinded me with its dazzling light. The glare and heat made my temples throb. A gigantic head suddenly thrust itself between me and the sun. I opened my eyes wide and stared about me in bewilderment. The marshy lowlands had disappeared. The rugged hills and gullies of the badlands surrounded me on every side. The grey bull river flowed at my feet. All had changed. The passing moments yawned infinite time. I was half sitting with my back to the rock, which protected me from the direct rays of the scorching noonday sun. My pony soft muzzle was sniffing that which I held within my hand.  The skull of Yohipus. End of Section 9. Section 10 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. From dawn recent, Eocene times, until not so very long ago, our United States was the home of the camel. He left us for his own good reasons, which is a pity, for had he stayed we could now have caravans trooping across Nevada and other waterless regions, just as they do on the Sahara Desert. He marched off into Asia and Africa, probably by way of Alaska, just as unconcernedly as an easterner would take a trip to California, while several of his relatives, the Lama and Wanako, branched off to South America. Our country has seen the last of the camel in a wild state, and only as a circus actor has he ever returned to the land which gave him birth. However, there is no use crying over spilled milk. Our camel is gone, and we have seen the last of him. And yet, if the truth be told, his disappearance was somewhat in the nature of a trade. Asia got him, also our horses and tapirs, but she had to pay with bison, moose, elk, and some bears thrown in. Whenever animals left their homes, others took their places. Land was never permitted to lie idle if it contained food and drink. This tramping from one continent to another is well illustrated in the little recent oligosine rocks of the White River in South Dakota. This is truly an inspiring region with its lofty towers and battlements of brilliantly colored clays, shales and sandstones piled on top of one another to a height of one thousand feet. These rocks are filled with bones of ancient animals, and in few other localities are they so numerous and well preserved. They were the first American age of mammal deposits to be systematically explored, and our great museums are filled with the skeletons found in them. An extraordinarily large variety of beasts is represented. Besides survivors from the dawn recent Eocene period, numerous visitors may be recognized. Emigrants came from Europe and Asia to try their fortunes in the new world. As might be expected, this invasion of eastern hordes with keen appetites aroused considerable apprehension among the natives who were obliged to bestow themselves to retain their fair share of food and water. Some failed, as did certain of the visitors. But among the successful ones was a small creature of modest mean who now occupies a conspicuous place in ancient animal history. This individual, a Native American, was Poebro, Poebrotherium, ancestor of the modern camel. End of section 10