In the rutting season there is a good deal of desperate fighting between jealous males; but this business disposed of a nursery nest or "hover" is constructed of rushes and grass, and lined with the soft, purple flower panicles of the great reed. Here, in the winter, the bitch Otter brings forth her two or three blind young. They are already covered with a fine downy fur. Both parents hunt to provide them with food, and in due course they are taken out one night to be taught the way of life in the waters. The partnership of the parents is only temporary, and as soon as the young ones are capable of taking care of themselves, the old dog Otter goes to live by himself. The mother remains with her family until the rutting season returns, when she also departs to find another mate. In Norfolk the nursery is frequently found on the surface, in the great reed-beds.
The chief enemy of the Otter is the river-keeper on waters that are preserved for fishing, who has always his traps set for them. This is somewhat strange when it is remembered that the Otter is also an animal of the chase, packs of Otter-hounds still being kept like fox-hounds in certain districts, though the packs are by no means so numerous as in former times. The flesh of the Otter is rank and fishy-flavoured, and therefore not in demand for human food; but there are many records showing that it has been esteemed for use on days when the rules of the Church permitted fish only to be eaten, the clerical casuists easily finding that as it spends most of its active life in the water and has a fishy taste, it must be a kind of a fish! Readers of dear old Izaak Walton will remember the Otter-hunter's reply when Piscator asks him whether he hunts a beast or a fish. The Huntsman says—
"Sir, it is not in my power to resolve you; yet I leave it to be resolved by the College of Carthusians, who have made vows never to eat flesh. But I have heard the question hath been debated among many great clerks, and they seem to differ about it; yet most agree that her tail is fish; and if her body be fish too, then I may say that a fish will walk upon land (for an Otter does so), sometimes five or six or ten miles in a night."
More recently Pennant says he saw an Otter in the kitchen of the Carthusian monastery near Dijon, being prepared for dinner.
There have been many cases of tame Otters who hunted streams for fish for the benefit of their owner, to whom they return on hearing a whistle or other signal. Some years ago an interesting account appeared in The Field of an Otter whelp that had been mothered by an Otter-hound, afterwards hunting its own kind with the pack.
Pine Marten (Mustela martes, Linn.).
The Pine Marten or Marten Cat was formerly quite a common woodland beast, but owing to the onslaughts of the gamekeeper and the high prices paid for a skin, it is now, so far as southern and midland England is concerned, extinct. In the wilder parts of the Peak district, the North of England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, however, it still exists, though in small and ever decreasing numbers in most places. In the Lake District it was quite recently reported to be fairly common even. The name Pine Marten is a misnomer in so far as it indicates that the animal is at all restricted to pine woods; and it is probable that in the past it led to confusion, for in all the natural histories published up to a late date in the nineteenth century, Britain was credited with an additional species, the Beech Marten (Mustela foina). The two species are much alike, and the practice appears to have been to record those found in pine woods as M. martes and those in other woods as M. foina! Bell, indeed, though he expressly states his disbelief in our possession of two species of Marten, refers to the white-throated form as the Beech Marten or Common Marten and says it is more frequently met with than the yellow-throated form or Pine Marten. The truth is that there is a white-throated Mustela foina in Europe and Asia, but it does not reach northward so far as Sweden, Norway, or the British Isles. The white examples found in this country are old animals from which the yellow tint has faded.
The Pine Marten may be described as resembling roughly the better known Polecat, but with longer legs, a broader, more triangular head with sharp-pointed muzzle, and a longer, more bushy tail. Its entire length is between twenty-five and thirty inches, of which from nine to twelve inches are contributed by the tail. Its colour is a rich dark brown, except on the throat and breast which vary from orange through yellow to creamy-white. The middle of the back and the exposed sides of the legs and feet are darker than the rest, whilst beneath the tint approaches grey. The superficial colour is provided by the long upper, glossy fur, but beneath this is a finer, softer fur of shorter reddish-grey hairs tipped with yellow. The eyes are large, black, and prominent, the ears broad, open, and rounded at the tips. Like all the other members of the family Mustelidæ, the Marten is provided with glands near the base of the tail. It is these which enable the Skunk and the Polecat to disgust their enemies; but in the case of the Marten the secretion is merely of a musky odour and not objectionable; in consequence one of its old English names was Sweet Marten to distinguish it from the Foulmart or Polecat.
The habits of the Pine Marten are mainly arboreal, for which the long slender body and sharp long claws specially fit it, whilst the long bushy tail is useful as a balancer in negotiating slender branches in the pursuit of birds, or in reaching their nests for eggs. All the same, the Marten is at times very active on the ground where he destroys rats, mice, voles, rabbits, hares, game-birds, and domestic poultry large and small. He is even accused of attacking lambs and stealing trout from the fishing boats. He has also a taste for bilberries, strawberries, cherries, and raspberries; and C. St. John tells an interesting story in this connection which illustrates the Marten's cleverness in hiding. He says: "I saw in my garden in Inverness-shire that some animal came nightly to the raspberry bushes; the track appeared like that of a rabbit or hare, but as I also saw that the animal climbed the bushes, I knew it could be neither of these. Out of curiosity, I set a trap for the marauder; the next morning, on going to look at it very early, I could see nothing on the spot where I had put my trap but a heap of leaves, some dry and some green; I was just going to move them with my hand, when I luckily discovered a pair of bright eyes peering sharply out of the leaves, and discovered that I had caught a large Marten, who, finding that he could not escape, had collected all the leaves within his reach, and had quite concealed himself under them. The moment he found that he was discovered, he attacked me most courageously, as the Marten always does, fighting to the last. I had other opportunities of satisfying myself that this animal is a great fruit-eater, feeding much on the wild raspberries, and even blackberries, that grow in the woods." It also robs beehives of their honey.
The female Marten forms a nest of grass among the rocks, in a hollow tree, or utilises an old crow's nest by relining it, and produces a litter of four or five—sometimes varied in number from two to seven—and there are at least two litters each year. The young are exceedingly pretty and are easily tamed; though a captured adult is savage and untameable.
The dentition of the Marten is: i 3/3, c 1/1, p 4/4, m 1/2 = 38.
Cuvier divided the Linnean genus into two subgenera, Mustela and Putorius, the first, Martens and Sables, possessing an additional small premolar on each side of the jaw; the second including the Polecats, Stoats, and Weasels. At a later date Nilsson called these subgenera genera, substituting the name Martes for the Martens and giving that of Mustela to the Weasels. This has the effect of making the name of the Pine Marten, Martes martes, which is rather ridiculous; and we have preferred to retain the Linnean name Mustela martes. The old spelling of the popular name was Martin, but in recent works, to avoid any possible confusion with the birds of that name, zoologists have agreed to use e as the second vowel when writing of the mammals.
The Pine Marten is found in all the wooded regions of Europe and into Asia; northwards from the Mediterranean to the limits of tree-growth.
Stoat or Ermine (Mustela erminea, Linn.).
Though the gun and the snare of the gamekeeper and the poultry-farmer levy their toll upon the Stoat equally with the Polecat, and the keeper's gibbet always shows a goodly row of Stoats, the species manages to keep itself well represented, even in the strictly preserved woods of Southern England. There must, therefore, be some additional reason for the scarcity of the Polecat (see p. 74).
The Stoat is much smaller than the Polecat, its total length being only a little more than fourteen inches, of which about four and a half inches are the long-haired but not very bushy tail. In colour, too, it is very distinct, the upper parts being red-brown and the under surface white tinged with yellow. The tail takes the colour of the upper surface, except its tip which is invariably a tuft of long black hairs. In the Alpine districts of Scotland as in other northern countries, the fur in winter becomes pure white all over, with the exception of the tip of the tail which always remains black. This change takes place also in the North of England, but not so generally, and in the South it is only of rare occurrence, and often only partially, some parts remaining brown, as a ring around the eyes producing a spectacled appearance. The summer coloration is "protective" inasmuch that it harmonises generally with the colour of the ground littered with the remains of dead leaves, bark, etc.; but in a landscape under snow for months, as the Alpine districts are, the brown fur would render the animal so conspicuous that it would be heavily handicapped in the hunt for food; but the winter change to white fur enables the Stoat to steal upon its prey unseen from a short distance. The change is quite sudden, given the requisite fall in the temperature, the pigment being withdrawn. (See Introductory chapter.)
Like the Polecat, the Stoat can secrete a most objectionable odour from its scent-glands, but in this case it is not nearly so insupportable. St. John says that if the Stoat is suddenly shot before he has had time to see his aggressor the dead body has not this offensive odour; the same result follows upon his sudden death in a spring trap, but if he is trapped alive or hunted before being shot the vile smell is imparted to the fur and is irremovable.
The Stoat hunts along hedgerows, rivers and brooks, in the latter places for fish, of which all the members of the Weasel tribe are exceedingly fond. An eel or other fish placed in a trap is a deadly bait for these animals. The Stoat also frequents sand dunes, where it lives sumptuously upon Rabbits. It is very destructive to game and poultry, which it will attack right in the open field, and if pursued by a dog, immediately takes shelter in a mole's or rat's run, where pursuit is impossible. It will destroy the Mole and take possession of its chamber, though it appears to be fonder of "field mice" (Voles) than of Moles. Although largely nocturnal in its habits, it is by no means exclusively so, and there is more chance of observing the Stoat hunting in broad daylight than in the case of any other of our native carnivora. Sometimes it hunts in small packs—family parties; and it is said that when through increase of its own numbers it has largely reduced the food supply of a district, it will migrate in large numbers, when their associated courage is so great that they will attack a man. A single female who has young will, indeed, exhibit the greatest courage and ferocity in their defence. The Stoat hunts by scent, and its movements consist largely of a succession of low bounds which give its progress a snake-like appearance—and like the other members of the family it makes sidelong leaps. Many years ago, whilst walking along a woodland road in Surrey, we paused to listen to cries of terror in the cover far ahead. A panic-stricken young Rabbit came into the open in our direction swiftly pursued by a Stoat which rapidly gained upon it. As it came near the Rabbit became aware of our presence and appeared deliberately to change its course, and fell on its side exhausted against our feet. The Stoat, by this time only a few yards away, stopped, and looked up at us with a snarling expression, but kept out of reach of our uplifted stick. Realising that the hunt had failed and the Rabbit had found a spoilsport protector, the Stoat then made off into the bracken; whilst the panting Rabbit allowed us to carry it on our arm for half a mile until it had recovered. Its natural fear of man was not nearly so great as its terror inspired by the bloodthirsty Stoat; and when at length it was set down in what was judged to be a safe place, it hopped off without any frightened haste.
It appears that the Hare under similar conditions does not exert itself greatly to escape from the Stoat, but becomes so terrorised as to be unable to adopt methods which so frequently outwit the Fox or the fleetness of trained hounds.
The nursery is made in a hole in the bank, the hollow of a decayed tree, or in the retreat of a female Mole who has been killed or evicted. Here about April or May the female Stoat gives birth to four or five young, which she will defend with great fierceness against all dangers.
The distribution of the Stoat extends eastward from Great Britain into Asia, and from the Alps and Pyrenees across Europe to its arctic shores.
A local race of smaller size, with some variation in the colouring, is found in Ireland, and some systematic naturalists, eager to swell our short list of native mammals, have dignified it with a separate species name—Mustela hibernicus. In Ireland it is known as the Weasel, but no specimens or skins of the true Weasel (Mustela nivalis) have ever been received from that country. Another local race in the Isle of Jura on the west coast of Scotland is similarly given species rank.
Weasel (Mustela nivalis, Linn.).
Although of very similar form to the Stoat, the Weasel may be known by its smaller size and by the absence of the black tip which marks the tail of the Stoat. In colour there is little difference in the two species, except that in the Weasel the upper parts are of a redder brown and the under parts a purer white than in the Stoat. The head is narrower and the legs are shorter, whilst the tail, which is a conspicuous feature of the Stoat, is here less bushy and little more than half the length of the Stoat's appendage. The average length of a mature male is nine or ten inches, to which the tail contributes only two inches; the total length of the female is an inch and a half less than that of the male.
The long, slender body, short limbs, long neck and small head give it a snake-like appearance which is helped by its active, gliding movements. The snake-likeness is accentuated when only the foreparts are seen protruding from a hole. On one occasion as we passed a stack of cord-wood on the edge of a wood, our attention was attracted by a hissing noise. On the level of our face a snake-like head peered out from between the cord-wood; and many persons would, no doubt, assume that a snake had threatened them. But the snarling expression exposed the canine teeth. The cause of the demonstration was not obvious, but we presumed that there were young Weasels in the stack, and that some other predatory animal had threatened danger to them just before we passed, and had aroused the maternal rage. In spite of its small size the bloodthirsty Weasel is full of courage, and will attack creatures larger than itself. We have seen it, in the neighbourhood of a barn, struggling to haul along a nearly full-grown Rat, two or three times its own weight, after it had paralysed its victim by biting through the base of the skull. Sometimes it hunts in couples, or family packs.
Although, like the other members of its family, the Weasel is chiefly nocturnal in habit, it is also active by day, and may be encountered frequently in our rambles. His diet is varied, and includes rats, mice, voles, moles, frogs, small birds, and chickens. He will swim in pursuit of the Water Vole, and will climb trees and bushes in order to rob a bird's nest of eggs or young. Voles and mice are probably his principal victims, his small size enabling him to pursue them in their underground runs. But though the farmer may lose some of his chickens through want of care in protecting fowl-houses and runs, he has in the Weasel a most efficient guardian of his mangold-caves and other consumable stores. Many farmers have testified that their poultry is untouched by the Weasel, but destroyed by the Stoat.
One winter's day in Cornwall we were strolling up a road from the sea that ran between farm buildings, when our attention was attracted to the peculiar movements of some object on the road about a quarter of a mile ahead. Screaming cries came from the rolling mass, and soon we got near enough to see that a struggle was going on between two creatures who were mixed intimately; and finally saw that a large, well-fed Rat had been taken in charge by a lithe little Weasel. Spots of blood on the road and the redness of the rodent's neck-fur showed that the bite that rendered the Rat powerless had been given already. So intent was the Weasel upon the work in hand that for a moment he appeared ignorant of our presence within a few feet. Then he paused, stood upright on his haunches, and looked up with a fierce gleam in his bright black eyes that seemed to say, "Don't interfere, there's a good fellow. I've tackled him fairly—let me finish the job." That slight pause gave the Rat a chance—a very poor one, but he tumbled in a stupid, drunken kind of way towards the hedge, to which the Weasel had been trying to drag him.
On the other side of the hedge was a "cave" of mangolds upon which the Rats had been committing fearful ravages, as is their wont, and this particular thief had waxed fat upon such fare. The Weasel had evidently caught him in the act of committing larceny, but the Rat had given the little policeman a run through the hedge and across the road before the Weasel had leaped upon the culprit's back and inflicted the deadly bite. So much was told with tolerable certainty by the drops of blood and the footprints on the soft road. Now, getting somewhat alarmed at our presence, the Weasel ran into the hedge; but immediately rallying his pluck came out of his corner again, seeking his quarry who was at the hedge-foot, dreamily looking for the hole that in ordinary health he would have darted to straight. He floundered hopelessly under the herbage; but in a second or two the Weasel had him again by the skin of the back, and was trying to haul him up the bank to get him through the hedge. Then, realising the impossibility of his task—for the Rat was probably six times the Weasel's weight—and finding we had taken up an attitude of benevolent neutrality, not loving Rats, he got on the Rat and finished the business. A few spasmodic movements of the extended limbs showed that the Rat was dead, so we left the Weasel to enjoy his feast of brains in the solitude he desired.
When the Weasel has failed by stalking or hunting such prey to secure a meal, he is known to resort to "charming" tactics. In full view of a hedgerow where small birds are numerous, he will throw his body into snake-like contortions to attract their attention. They become fascinated and curious, and though apparently filled with fear, they approach nearer and nearer until one is close enough to be grabbed by the charmer. Then the others recover their senses, and in numbers fly at the Weasel, mobbing and pecking him in a fearless manner, so that he is coerced by the defenceless creatures he intended to kill, and is glad to slink into cover. If there is a scarcity of live food, the Weasel will content himself with carrion. Its chief enemies are hawks.
There is, as a rule, no seasonal change of colour in the Weasel's fur in this country; but occasionally it has been found white in winter. In colder climates this change is quite normal.
The Weasel's nest is placed in a hole in the bank or in some hollow tree, and consists of dry leaves, grass, etc. In it the female brings forth from four to six—usually five—young, in spring or early summer; and the mother will sacrifice her own life in the defence of her helpless progeny. If necessary to remove them, she does it as a cat removes her kittens.
In the north it is known as the Whittret = Whitethroat of Suffolk; in Yorkshire, the Ressel; in Cheshire, the Mouse-killer; in Sussex, the Beale; and in some parts of Surrey as Kine, which suggests Gilbert White's Cane, the local name in Hampshire for "a little reddish beast not much bigger than a field mouse, but much longer," of his fifteenth letter to Pennant. The more general name Weasel is the Anglo-Saxon Wesle.
When Scotland suffered severely from a "plague" of Field Voles in 1892, the Board of Agriculture appointed a Committee of Enquiry, and the examination of witnesses—farmers, keepers, shepherds—clearly established the fact that the chief natural enemy of the Field Vole is the Weasel, and that the gravest mistake had been made in destroying and in exporting large numbers to our Dominions in order that they might there reduce the "plague" of Rabbits. It was even suggested that we should make good this error by importing Weasels from the Continent and turning them loose. Other evidence showed that the Weasel is frequently blamed by game-preservers for what is undoubtedly the work of the Stoat, the Weasel preferring the lower-lying farmsteads, where Mice and Voles are abundant, to the elevated ranges frequented by Grouse and Rabbits. Apart from its preference for the smaller Rodents, the Weasel appears to differ from the Stoat in being of a less hardy constitution, and in winter at least requires the shelter afforded by granaries and rickyards, where it co-operates with the Owls in an unceasing warfare on the Rats and Mice. Its extra-British distribution agrees with that of the Stoat.
Albino-Weasels, with pure white fur and pink eyes, have been recorded several times, but they appear to be very rare.
Polecat (Mustela putorius, Linn.).
In contradistinction to the Sweet-mart already described, our forefathers called the Polecat or Fitchew the Foumart or Foul Marten, because the secretion from the glands under the tail is intolerably acrid and mephitic; on this account the fur is considered useless, the odour attaching to it permanently. Like the Marten, the Polecat, thanks mainly to the unremitting vigilance of the gamekeeper, has become very rare in this country. In this case there can be no doubt that the keeper is fully justified, for there is no more destructive beast among our native carnivora. It is still common throughout Europe, as far north as central Scandinavia.
Though in general appearance similar to the Marten, the Polecat is smaller, has shorter legs and a shorter tail, and differs in colour. The entire length is about two feet, but of this the bushy tail accounts for about seven inches. Its long coarse fur is dark brown on the upper parts of the body, and black on the under surface. The head, also, is blackish, relieved with white marks about the muzzle and between the ears and eyes. The weight of a full-grown Polecat is about six pounds.
Its usual habitat is a wood or copse, not too far from a plunderable farm; but it has no fixed type of dwelling, taking advantage of any hole, be it a fox-earth, a rabbit-burrow, or a natural rock crevice; often indeed a woodstack in the farmyard may be utilised. On the approach of winter it looks out for some deserted building where it can find shelter. Unlike the Marten, it is not much of a climber, and does not exhibit the sprightly agility of that species. It is a nocturnal hunter, and is an adept at finding entrance to a hen-house, where it has been known to kill off every one of the inmates in a night, though it could only make off with a solitary hen. Although it may consume the brains of its victims on the spot, the bodies are always carried to its lair for more leisured consumption. Its food includes eggs of all kinds, rabbits, rats, mice, birds, fish, frogs, lizards, and snakes, including the viper, whose poison is considered to be innocuous in the blood of the Polecat. When it gets into the poultry yard, the superior size of some of its victims does not alarm it; a goose will serve its turn as well as a chicken. Bell tells of sixteen turkeys that were killed in one night by a single Foumart; though, of course, it could not drag away one of the carcasses. Its usual method of carrying smaller prey is to grip them by the middle of the back, much as a retriever carries game. In addition to the remains of hares, rabbits, numerous birds, and several eels, C. St. John found in the larder of a she-polecat the bodies of three kittens which he knew to have been drowned at least a quarter of a mile away.
The Polecat pairs about February, and from three to eight (mostly five or six) young to a litter are born in April or May. The nest is made of dry grass. There is probably a second litter a few months later.
The dentition of the Polecat, the Weasel, and the Stoat, is the same as that of the Marten, except that there are only three premolar teeth on each side of the jaws. In setting traps for Polecats the bait is found to be rendered far more seductive by scenting it with musk.
The tame Ferret, so largely bred for use in catching Rabbits and destroying Rats, is an albino, probably of the Asiatic Polecat (M. eversmanni), with yellowish-white fur and red eyes. Its employment in hunting ground-game dates back certainly as far as to the Romans, as evidenced by references in Pliny's Natural History. When all the exits but one from a Rabbit "bury" have been netted, the Ferret, properly muzzled, is turned into the one left open, and quickly drives out all the occupants into the nets. In similar fashion Rats are driven out of their holes to have their backs promptly broken by terriers in waiting. Dark-coloured Ferrets are known as Polecat Ferrets, and appear to be hybrids between the Ferret and the ordinary Polecat.
Wild Cat (Felis silvestris, Schreber).
When in England or Ireland we talk with keepers or other woodland folk, and they happen to mention Wild Cats, let it be understood always that their wild cat is a domestic pussy that has tired of the soft indoor life and become feral. Such cats are a terror to the gamekeeper on account of their destruction of young pheasants, hares and rabbits, and the tails of many of them ornament his gibbets.
To have even a slight chance of seeing the real British Wild Cat to-day, we must seek it in North Wales, or preferably the north or north-west of Scotland, its present restricted area in that country having as its eastern boundary the Caledonian Canal. It inhabits the most lonely and inaccessible mountain sides, hiding during the day in some rocky fastness, prowling far and wide at night in search of prey. It is of a general yellowish-grey colour, but individuals differ in their dark brown markings, some having vertical stripes running down the sides from a black longitudinal line down the middle of the back; in others these are broken up to form spots. It has a squarish thick head and body, the latter longer than in the Domestic Cat; but the thick bushy tail is relatively shorter, ringed and ending in a long black brush. The limbs, too, are longer than those of the tame cat, so that it stands higher. A pair of dark stripes extend from the eyes and over the head to behind the ears. The fur is long, soft and thick. The pads of the toes are not quite black. The average length is about two feet nine inches, of which the tail accounts for eleven inches; but there is a record of a Scottish example measuring three feet nine inches in all.
Pennant (1776) says: "This animal may be called the British tiger; it is the fiercest, and most destructive beast we have; making dreadful havoke among our poultry, lambs and kids." C. St. John, nearer to our own time (1845), says its strength and ferocity when hard pressed are perfectly astonishing. Fully acquainted as he was with the wild life of the more remote parts of Scotland, he adds: "I have heard their wild and unearthly cry echo far in the quiet night as they answer and call to each other. I do not know a more harsh and unpleasant cry than that of the Wild Cat, or one more likely to be the origin of superstitious fears in the mind of an ignorant Highlander." He describes how one day whilst fishing in Sutherland, and having to climb over rocks to get from one pool to another, he had a close personal encounter with one.
"In doing so, I sank through some rotten heather and moss up to my knees, almost upon a Wild Cat, who was concealed under it. I was quite as much startled as the animal herself could be, when I saw the wild-looking beast so unexpectedly rush out from between my feet, with every hair of her body standing on end, making her look twice as large as she really was." Pursued by his three Skye terriers "she took refuge in a corner of the rocks, where, perched in a kind of recess out of reach of her enemies, she stood with her hair bristled out, and spitting and growling like a common cat. Having no weapon with me, I laid down my rod, cut a good-sized stick, and proceeded to dislodge her. As soon as I was within six or seven feet of the place, she sprang straight at my face over the dogs' heads. Had I not struck her in mid-air as she leaped at me, I should probably have got some severe wound. As it was she fell with her back half broken amongst the dogs, who, with my assistance, despatched her. I never saw an animal fight so desperately, or one which was so difficult to kill. If a tame cat has nine lives, a Wild Cat must have a dozen."
The female makes a nest in some remote rock-cleft or hollow tree, where in early summer she usually brings forth four or five kittens, which at an early age spit angrily at any intruder.
The distribution of the Wild Cat includes Europe and Northern Asia to the North Himalaya. Though formerly a beast of chase in England, it appears never to have been a native of Ireland. Old English names for it were Catamount and Cat-a-mountain.
Dental formula: i 3/3, c 1/1, p 3/2, m 1/1 = 30.
Squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris, Linn.).
With the beautiful Squirrel, the most popular of all our native fauna, we make the acquaintance of another order of animals, the Rodentia or gnawing mammals, which is the most numerously represented of the orders in our meagre list, Britain still possessing fifteen species of rodents. Besides the Squirrel, the order Rodentia includes the Dormouse, the Rats, Mice, and Voles, the Hares and Rabbit; and the characteristic feature that brings them together is the chisel-like pattern of their incisor teeth. (See Introduction.) They may be said to be the dominant race of mammals in the present day, for whilst over a thousand species are known to science, and these mostly of very wide geographical range, there are vast and increasing numbers of individuals representing many of the species. Whilst man is busy killing off the carnivora and the birds of prey, these natural checks to the multiplication of the Rodents are being missed seriously, and Rats, Hamsters, and Voles prove a serious menace to man's agricultural produce, and the Rat to his health owing to its instrumentality as a carrier of disease.
A distinctive character of the Rodents, additional to the chisel-teeth and the absence of canines, is the possession of hairy linings to the mouth, the external skin being continued into the sides of the mouth behind the upper front teeth. In the Hares and Rabbits the whole of the inside of the cheeks is covered with hair.
Very few of the Rodents are aquatic in their habits, and of these few the Water Vole is the only British representative. Most of them are burrowing animals, and excavate long runs and nesting places in the earth; a few, like the Squirrels and Dormice, are arboreal. As a whole the Rodents may be said to be vegetarians; but the Rats are omnivorous, and the Water Vole though mainly herbivorous takes a little animal food.
The Squirrel is one of the most picturesque of our small mammals, especially when seen sitting on his haunches on a tree branch, his plumy tail curled up his back, his tufted ears erect, and his forepaws holding a nut; or when making his prodigious leap from bough to bough. He is not nearly so big a creature as he looks under these conditions, for if we could pass the tape over him from the end of his snout to the tip of his tail proper (that is, not including the hairs that extend beyond the tip), we should find he only measures about fifteen and a half inches, and of this length seven inches, or nearly half, is provided by the tail. Examine his feet, and you will see that they are adapted eminently for climbing. The forefeet have four fingers and a rudimentary thumb, and the hind feet have five toes; the claws long, curved and sharp-pointed, and the soles hairy. The muzzle is well furnished with "whiskers," the prominent eyes are black and bright, and the large, pointed ears bear tufts of long hairs in winter. The hind limbs are much longer than the forelimbs, and the heel of the long foot touches the surface upon which it rests. The upper parts and tail are brownish red and the under parts white. Before winter, when the fur becomes softer and thicker, a grey tinge is developed on the sides, and the ear-tufts become longer and bushy; these are shed in the breeding season (early summer). At times it may be found with the tail of a creamy tint.
One of the Squirrel's strong claims to popular favour is his diurnal habits, which makes him better known by all who wander in the woods; in one sense it is a pity it is so, for in the neighbourhood of large towns the "sporting instinct" of 'Arry has led him to kill or mutilate the Squirrel with sticks and stones. Not many years ago the numerous Squirrels that added to the attractions of Richmond Park were shot by the keepers to prevent 'Arry killing them! Ordinary intelligences thought it would have been better to have disciplined 'Arry.
The Squirrel builds nests in the branches of the trees it affects, not merely as nurseries, but for resting places. There may be several of these in adjacent trees or in the one to which the builder is specially attached. Some of these may be crows' or magpies' nests adapted for the new tenants, or may be wholly the Squirrel's work. They are bulky structures composed of twigs, strips of thin bark, moss, and leaves; sometimes cup-shaped, others domed. These are usually known as "dreys"; but in parts of Surrey they are "jugs," squaggy-jugs to give them their full name. The breeding nest is a huge ball (unless there is a roomy hollow in the trunk that can be upholstered) with a side entrance. Here in summer the three or four blind and naked young are born, and they remain with their parents until themselves adult.
The food of the Squirrel is fairly varied. In pine woods the cones provide the staple dish, and the ground beneath a Squirrel's tree will be found littered with chips and cores of the cone from which the seeds have been extracted. This débris should be looked for as an unfailing sign that there are Squirrels in the wood. In beech woods they rely largely on beech-mast, the sharp-edged triangular seeds contained in the prickly nuts. They usually have a hazel-copse not far distant whence they derive their favourite food in the autumn, storing up considerable quantities in holes for use during the winter. Several times when filling our own pockets with hazel-nuts we have met with angry protests from a Squirrel who considered the place his own preserve. Standing on a stout limb just overhead he would stamp his forefeet and utter a little bark. Similar objection has been made at times when we were filling our basket with the nutty Blusher Toadstool (Amanita rubescens), of which some of the caps in a clump showed the marks of the Squirrel's incisors. He is also fond of cherries, wild or cultivated, and the shoots of Pines which contain the burrowing larvæ of the Pine Tortrix moth. It is also accused of being so far carnivorous as to consume bird's eggs and nestlings.
The Squirrel does not hibernate, as it is said by the older writers to do. In the winter it certainly indulges in long naps; but on a fine day it wakes up and visits its stores of food. It rarely descends to the ground, except for the purpose of crossing a wide woodland road, or to seek water at a stream. In connection with water, it may be said that the Squirrel is an expert swimmer. Dental formula: i 1/1, c 0/0, p 0/0, m 5/4 = 22.
The Squirrel is generally distributed in Great Britain and Ireland, where there is sufficient woodland, and in similar situations in Europe and Asia.
Grey Squirrel (Sciurus cinereus, Linn.).
In some places in the London district a light grey Squirrel may be seen, and thought to be a colour variation of our native species. It is really an American visitor, distinct in colour and without tufts to the ears. Some years ago the caged specimens in the Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park, had become so numerous that some of them were given their liberty. Their numbers increased among the trees of the Gardens, and they overflowed into the Park, where they became so familiar as to accept food from the hands of the delighted children. Gradually, some of them developed exploring tendencies and made their way to the wooded grounds of suburban residences. British naturalists of a not-distant future will probably have to include two species of Squirrels in their lists.
The pretty Chipmunk (Tamias striatus, Linn.), or Chipping Squirrel, one of the Ground Squirrels, is another American species that has become acclimatised in the London area. It lacks the long tufted ears of our Squirrel, the tail is shorter, and there are pouches inside the cheeks. Its general appearance is strikingly different from the Squirrel, for though its ground colour is red-brown, the eye is set in a white band divided into two stripes by a black line. A black stripe runs down the middle of the back, and in addition there is a white stripe bordered by black above and below along each side.
It feeds on nuts, beech-mast, grain, roots, and insects; migrating from place to place as local food-supplies become scanty. It stores up food for the winter like the Squirrel, carrying it to its caches by means of the cheek-pouches. Though capable of climbing, and occasionally seen ascending lofty trees, it is much more at home on the ground. It burrows a retreat in the ground, if no suitable stump is available for excavation. When startled it utters a cry of "chip-per-r-r."
Dormouse (Muscardinus avellanarius, Linn.).
The non-scientific observer of our native mammals satisfied himself long ago that the pretty Dormouse was a miniature kind of Squirrel, and he was helped to this conclusion by the general resemblance in colouring, the form of the head, the prominent black eyes, large ears, and thickly furred long tail; as well as by its arboreal habitat and its habit of sitting up on its haunches and holding a nut or other food in its forepaws. But the classifying naturalist has to look below the surface to discover a sound basis for his work. Superficial resemblances are often due to similarity of habit and habitat; and in this case the internal structure of the Dormouse shows that it has closer affinity with the Mice than with the Squirrels, though really distinct from both.