row on a moonlight night and pounce upon it suddenly when it returns from a foraging trip. Dogs are often employed to trail the creature when away from its home. When overtaken, of course, it offers not the slightest resistance.
In Central America the armadillo is frequently domesticated to rid houses of insect pests. They also make as nice pets as one could desire; no animal is cleaner or less objectionable about the house. They are as desirable in this respect as well-trained cats or lapdogs, and there could be no higher praise than this.
It is not merely the odd forms and ways of my rare pets that have made them the objects of my peculiar interest. I have been equally charmed with their intelligence and with their evident attachment to myself. If, when they are near me, I suddenly move away from them, they come trotting at my heels in their comical way as fast as their short legs can carry them.
Their gait is always a walk or brisk trot, never a gallop. Most of their movements when in motion resemble those of little pigs. They have learned to answer to their names, and come quickly when called. Curiosity is a prominent characteristic of the animal; if allowed free scope, they will explore every part of a strange place, trying to run their sharp noses into every opening. Much of the daytime is spent in sleeping. In lying down one generally rests its head and fore feet on the neck or back of the other, in a very affectionate manner.
Their attachment for each other is remarkable, all the more noticeable when one becomes separated from the other. If I shut Jack up in a basket, Jill goes round and round outside, at times standing on her hind feet and reaching to the top with her nose. When Jack is finally liberated they put their heads together for a few moments, and then off they go on one of their tours of exploration.
