"Jack rabbit," answered Billy, with a grin. "Some day we'll come on a hunt for 'em. It's lots of fun."
"Gosh! I thought it was something big," said Andy.
"They are pretty big—for rabbits," explained the ranch lad. "And you ought to see 'em run!"
They could see, by the waving grass, the course taken by the animal, and a little later they had a glimpse of him sitting on a hummock and staring at them with his long ears held up like signal flags.
"If I had a gun," began Andy, "I'd take a——"
He did not finish the sentence, for the next moment he went flying over the head of his horse, which went down in a heap. Andy sat down rather suddenly, a curious expression on his face.
"Wha—what happened?" he asked in a daze, while his mount, after scrambling to his feet, and trotting off a short distance, came to a halt and began nibbling the grass. "Did someone hit me?"
"Your horse put his foot in the burrow of a prairie dog," explained Billy. "Are you hurt?" and in an instant he was off his horse, slipping the reins over Buffalo's head, as a sign that he was to stand still.
"No, only sort of shaken up," confessed Andy. "A prairie dog's burrow; eh? What's it like?"
"Just a hole in the ground—that's all," said Billy. "I meant to tell you about them, but you can't see 'em, anyhow, until you're right on top of 'em, and then it's generally too late. Lucky you're not hurt. Can you ride?"