I used to live in Casas Grandes, Chihuahua, Mexico. Our house was the last one on the dirt road leading to the ruins known as Casas Grandes [Big Houses]. From my kitchen window I could look over the empty field and see the ruins and a crow that landed on the fence post every morning as I drank my post-getting-the-kids-off-to school coffee. I once had a guided tour by the resident archeologist. These ruins were first sighted by a European when Cabeza de Vaca gave them a wide berth in his walk from Florida to Mexico City. He had recently been treated badly by the last group of natives he had fallen in with and managed to escape. The large adobe structures convinced him that a large population must live there. Little did he know that the residents had departed some years before. One of the interesting features of these buildings was the doorways. They were very narrow at the bottom. You had to enter by putting one foot in front of the other. They were also very short doors, so you had to hunch down, bending from the waist to enter as well. I imagine that the purpose was to put anyone entering in a vulnerable position. If they were unknown, or hostile, they could be dealt with while in this vulnerable position. And now, to bring this thread back full circle, my son joyfully caught horny toads and locusts in the surrounding fields. He even found someone to pay him money for them. Shades of his snake-selling gramps!