Late to bed and early to rise is characteristic of the marmots. Classed as a diurnal animal, they nevertheless travel about a good deal at dusk. During the breeding season they may even make an extended trip at night to find a mate. Sunrise signals the beginning of the marmot’s day. The slanting rays have no more than touched the boulder above its burrow before the inmate will climb up to take advantage of their warmth. It may stay atop its vantage point for an hour or more. There are many things a marmot can attend to while taking the early morning sunbath. A leisurely toilette, whistled comments to neighbors, a long scrutiny of the terrain for possible danger—all these are matters requiring thorough attention.
yellow-bellied marmot
Should this procedure be interrupted by a prowling enemy, excitement runs high. If the intruder is still some distance away, the marmot often will stand up on its hind legs, picket pin fashion. Each explosive whistle will be accompanied by several flicks of the tail. When it is judged time to retire it will dash for its burrow, making sharp chirps as it goes. Once inside the burrow it may chance another look outside, and if the caller looks menacing enough the burrow entrance will be plugged with earth from inside, the chirps becoming fainter as the barricade is forced into place. Emergence from the burrow after a fright of this kind is governed to some extent by the time of year. If it is autumn and the marmot is about ready to hibernate, it may go to sleep in its cozy nest and not reappear until the next day. Even in spring and summer it will remain underground for a considerable time before venturing out again.
The marmot is by nature a stocky animal. Short-legged and barrel-bodied, it can lay on a surprising amount of fat for the period of hibernation. Length of this winter sleep depends on the elevation at which the animal lives. On the higher mountain tops it begins about October 1. At lower elevations it may be considerably later. Older individuals usually go into hibernation first, presumably because they are able to lay on the necessary fat sooner than younger ones. As a rule they retire by stages, disappearing for several days at a time; their movements are lethargic and they act as if already half asleep. The young of the year have spent the greater part of the summer growing up, and it is rather a grim race with time to determine whether they will be able to put on enough fat to carry them through the long winter with a reserve supply, or whether they can survive the cold weather that greets them. Especially at the higher elevations, they do not retire until forced to do so by cold weather.
Hibernation is as profound with these big rodents as with many of the ground squirrels. They will curl up into furry balls in their cozy nests, noses covered with fluffy tails, and sink into a deep sleep that approaches suspended animation. Bodily functions slow to a fraction of the normal rate, and the system draws on its store of fat to survive. The drain on this nourishment is slow, as it necessarily must be, for this single source of food must last for a period of perhaps 5 months.
The date of emergence varies. Although February 2nd is recognized as groundhog day on our calendar, this date would be chilly indeed on the peaks of our Southwest mountains. Nevertheless, the marmots do appear before the snow is entirely gone, and once their sleep has ended they rarely resume it, whether or not they see their shadows.
Breeding takes place shortly after emergence. The young are born in April or May. They are born blind; the eyes do not open until about a month after birth. The youngsters develop rapidly, and by the time they are half grown a daily session of sunbathing and playful tussles outside the entrance of the den is part of their routine. By September they are fully grown, and at this time they usually strike out for themselves, although cases have been recorded in which the family remained together through the first winter’s hibernation.
Marmots have always been favorites of this writer. Their clear-toned whistle is as much a symbol of the rugged peaks and lovely fir-rimmed mountain meadows as the coyote’s barks are of the desert. Several writers characterize marmots as “stupid.” Surely this is an unfortunate choice of word. Stupid by what standards? Can one species be compared with another when all must live under the different conditions to which they have adapted themselves? The mere fact that a balance of Nature has been attained indicates that each has the adaptations, the habits, and the degree of intelligence necessary for that species to live in harmony with the whole.