With his bow and arrows he frequently succeeds in killing a single hare; but this is not always so easy,—since the sage-hare, like all of its kind, is shy, swift, and cunning. Its colour, closely resembling the hue of the artemisia foliage, is a considerable protection to it; and it can hide among these bushes, where they grow thickly—as they generally do—over the surface of the ground.
But the Digger is not satisfied with the scanty and uncertain supply, which his weak bow and arrows would enable him to obtain. As in the case of the grasshoppers, he has contrived a plan for capturing the sage-hares by wholesale.
This he accomplishes by making a “surround,” and driving the animals, not into a pit, but into a pound. The pound is constructed something after the same fashion as that used by the Chippewas, and other northern Indians, for capturing the herds of reindeer; in other words, it is an enclosure, entered by a narrow mouth—from the jaws of which mouth, two fences are carried far out into the plain, in a gradually diverging direction. For the deer and other large animals, the fences of the pound—as also those of the funnel that conducts to it, require to be made of strong stakes, stockaded side by side; but this work, as well as the timber with which to construct it, is far beyond the reach of the Digger. His enclosure consists of a mere wattle of artemisia stalks and branches, woven into a row of those already standing—with here and there a patching of rude nets, made of roots and grass. The height is not over three feet; and the sage-hare might easily spring over it; but the stupid creature, when once “in the pound,” never thinks of looking upward; but continues to dash its little skull against the wattle, until it is either “clubbed” by the Digger, or impaled upon one of his obsidian arrows.
Other quadrupeds, constituting a portion of the Digger’s food, are several species of “gophers,” or sand-rats, ground-squirrels, and marmots. In many parts of the Great Basin, the small rodents abound: dwelling between the crevices of rocks, or honeycombing the dry plains with their countless burrows. The Digger captures them by various wiles. One method is by shooting them with blunt arrows; but the more successful plan is, by setting a trap at the entrance to their earthen caves. It is the “figure of 4 trap,” which the Digger employs for this purpose, and which he constructs with ingenuity,—placing a great many around a “warren,” and often taking as many as fifty or sixty “rats” in a single day!
In weather too cold for the gophers to come out of their caves, the Digger then “digs” for them: thus further entitling him to his special appellation.
That magnificent bird, the “cock of the plains,” sometimes furnishes the Digger with “fowl” for his dinner. This is a bird of the grouse family (tetrao urophasianus), and the largest species that is known,—exceeding in size the famed “cock of the woods” of northern Europe. A full-fledged cock of the plains is as large as an eagle; and, unlike most of the grouse kind, has a long, narrow body. His plumage is of a silvery grey colour—produced by a mottle of black and white,—no doubt, given him by a nature to assimilate him to the hue of the artemisia,—amidst which he habitually dwells, and the berries of which furnish him with most of his food.
He is remarkable for two large goitre-like swellings on the breast, covered with a sort of hair instead of feathers; but, though a fine-looking large bird, and a grouse too, his flesh is bitter and unpalatable—even more so than that of the sage-hare. For all that, it is a delicacy to the Digger, and a rare one; for the cock of the plains is neither plentiful, nor easily captured when seen.
There are several other small animals—both quadrupeds and birds—inhabiting Digger-land, upon which an occasional meal is made. Indeed, the food of the Digger is sufficiently varied. It is not in the quality but the quantity he finds most cause of complaint: for with all his energies he never gets enough. In the summer season, however, he is less stinted. Then the berries of the buffalo-bush are ripe; and these, resembling currants, he collects in large quantities,—placing his rabbit-skin wrapper under the bush, and shaking down the ripe fruit in showers. A mélange of prairie crickets and buffalo-berries is esteemed by the Digger, as much as would be the best specimen of a “currant-cake” in any nursery in Christendom!
The Digger finds a very curious species of edible bug, which builds its nest on the ledges of the cliffs,—especially those that overhang a stream. These nests are of a conical or pine-apple shape, and about the size of this fruit.
This bug,—not yet classified or described by entomologists,—is of a dark-brown colour, about the size of the ordinary cockroach; and when boiled is considered a proper article of food,—not only by the unfastidious Diggers, but by Indians of a more epicurean goût.