In the evening the bizcachas come out in numbers, and quietly sit at the mouths of their burrows on their haunches.

At such times they are very tame, and a man on horseback passing by seems only to present an object for their grave contemplation.

They run very awkwardly, and when running out of danger, from their elevated tails and short front legs, much resemble great rats.

Their flesh, when cooked, is very white and good, but it is seldom used.
The bizcacha has one very singular habit; namely, dragging every hard object to the mouth of its burrow: around each group of holes many bones of cattle, stones, thistle-stalks, hard lumps of earth, dry dung, etc., are collected into an irregular heap, which frequently amounts to as much as a wheelbarrow would contain.

I was credibly informed that a gentleman, when riding on a dark night, dropped his watch; he returned in the morning, and by searching the neighbourhood of every bizcacha hole on the line of road, as he expected, he soon found it.