Part 5

The mole is an instance of one of these minor groups; which, with one exception, has a portion of sight in spite of its reputation for being blind. Its smell and hearing, however, are so acute, that they make up for the deficiency in the other sense, a highly developed organ for which, would be very much in the way of an animal which makes its habitation within the earth, and which rarely comes to the surface in the day time. Its fore-feet are largest, and powerful muscles enable it to dig up the soil and roots which oppose the formation of its galleries, and which are thrown up as they become loosened. The nose, or snout, is furnished with a bone at the end, with which it pierces the earth, and in one genus this bone has twenty-two small, cartilaginous points attached to it, which can be extended into a star. A vein lies behind the ear of all, the smallest puncture of which causes instant death.

The food of moles chiefly consists of worms, and the larvae, or grubs of insects, of which they eat enormous quantities. They are extremely voracious, and the slightest privation of food drives them to frenzy, or kills them. They will all eat flesh, and when shut up in a cage without nourishment, have been known to devour each other. There is a remarkable instance of a mole, when in confinement, having a viper and a toad given to it, both of which it killed and devoured. All squeeze out the earthy matter which is inside worms, before eating them, which they do with the most eager rapidity. In June and July, they prowl upon the surface of the ground, generally at night, but they have been seen by day, and this is the time in which they indulge in fleshy food, for then they catch small birds, mice, frogs, lizards, and snails; but although when in confinement one was known to eat a toad, they generally refuse these reptiles, probably from the acrid humour which exudes from their skin. They, on these occasions of open marauding, are often caught and devoured in their turn by owls at night, and dogs by day. They have a remarkable power of eating the roots of the colchicum, or meadow saffron, which takes such powerful effect on other animals, and which they probably swallow for the sake of the larvae or worms upon them. Such is their antipathy to garlic, that a few cloves put into their runs, will cause their destruction.

A French naturalist, of the name of Henri Lecourt, devoted a great part of his life to the study of the habits and structure of moles, and he tells us, that they will run as fast as a horse will gallop. By his observations he rendered essential service to a large district in France, for he discovered that numbers of moles had undermined the banks of a canal, and that, unless means were taken to prevent the catastrophe, these banks would give way, and inundation would ensue. By his ingenious contrivances and accurate knowledge of their habits, he contrived to extirpate them before the occurrence of further mischief. Moles, however, are said to be excellent drainers of land, and Mr. Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, used to declare, that if a hundred men and horses were employed to dress a pasture farm of 1,500 or 2,000 acres, they would not do it as effectually as moles would do if left to themselves.

The late Earl of Derby possessed a small deserted island, in the Loch of Clunie, 180 yards from the main land, and as proof that moles swim well, a number of them crossed the water, and took possession of this place. They are said to be dragged, as beavers are, by their companions, who lay hold of their tail, and pull them along while they lie on their backs, embracing a quantity of soil dug out in forming their runs. The fur of the mole is very short, fine, and close, and is as smooth and soft as Genoa velvet.

Moles display a high degree of instinct in the skilful construction of their subterranean fortresses. Their site is not indicated by those little mounds of loose earth, which we see raised up at night, and which mark their hunting excursions, but under a hillock reared by themselves, and protected by a wall, bank, or roots of a tree. The earth is well worked, so as to make it compact and hard, and galleries are formed which communicate with each other. A circular gallery is placed at the upper part of the mound, and five descending passages lead from this to a gallery below, which is of larger circumference. Within this lower gallery is a chamber, which communicates with the upper gallery by three descending tunnels. This chamber is, as it were, the citadel of the mole, in which it sleeps.

A principal gallery goes from the lower gallery, in a direct line to the utmost extent of the ground through which the mole hunts, and from the bottom of this dormitory is another, which descends farther into the earth, and joins this great or principal road. Eight or nine other tunnels run round the hillock at irregular distances, leading from the lower gallery, through which the mole hunts its prey, and which it constantly enlarges. During this process it throws up the hillocks which betray its vicinity to us. The great road is of various depths, according to the quality of the soil in which it is excavated; it is generally five or six inches below the surface, but if carried under a stream, or pathway, it will be occasionally sunk a foot and a half. If the hillock be very extensive there will be several high-roads, and they will serve for several moles, but they never trespass on each other's hunting grounds. If they happen to meet in a road, one is obliged to retreat, or they have a battle, in which the weakest always comes off the worst. In a barren soil, the searching galleries are the most numerous, and those made in winter are the deepest, because the worms penetrate beyond the line of frost, and the mole is as active in winter as in warm weather.

The females have a separate chamber made for them, in which they bring forth their young. This is situated at some distance from the citadel, and placed where three or four galleries intersect each other. There they have a bed made of dry grass, or fibres of roots, and four or five young are born at the same time, which begin to get their own food when they are half grown.

Like all voracious animals, moles require a large quantity of water, consequently their run, or fortress, generally communicates with a ditch or pond. Should these dry up, or the situation be without such resources, the little architect sinks perpendicular wells, which retain the water as it drains from the soil.

Moles shift their quarters according to circumstances, and as they swim well, they migrate across rivers; and in sudden inundations are able, not to save themselves alone, but their young, to which they are much attached. The stratagem and caution which they practise in order to secure a bird are highly curious: they approach without seeming to do so, but as soon as they are within reach of their prey, they rush upon it, tear open its body, thrust their snout into the intestines, and revel in their sanguinary feast. They then sleep for three or four hours, and awake with renewed appetite.

All mole-catchers will bear testimony to the rapid movements and consequent difficulty of catching these animals. I have watched a gardener stand for half an hour by one of the little hillocks of loose earth, which, from its movement, showed that the mole was there at work, and remain motionless, spade in hand, and when he saw the earth shake, dash his weapon into the heap. The mere uplifting of his arm was sufficient, and before the spade could reach the ground the mole was gone. He could scarcely reckon on securing his victim once out of twenty efforts.

No moles are found in the north of Scotland, or in Ireland, which some attribute to soil and climate; but they exist in other parts of Europe under similar circumstances.

HEDGEHOGS.

Hedgehogs form one of the small groups of insect-eating mammalia, and are remarkable for being also able to eat those substances which are destructive to others; for instance, they will devour the wings of Spanish flies (Cantharides) with impunity, which cause fearful torments to other animals, and not the least to man, by raising blisters on his skin. It would seem that the hedgehog is also externally insensible to poison, for it fights with adders, and is bitten about the lips and nose without receiving any injury. An experiment has been made by administering prussic acid to it, which took no effect.

It is well known that hedgehogs are covered with bristles, amounting to sharp prickles, and that they roll themselves up into a ball. This is effected by a peculiar set of muscles attached to the skin, by which they pull themselves into this shape, and at the same time set up every bristle, and drag their head and limbs within. Such is the resistance and elasticity of these bristles, that the owners of them may be thrown to great distances and remain unhurt, and they will even throw themselves down steep places when they wish to move from a particular spot.

Hedgehogs are nocturnal animals, and frequent woods, gardens, orchards, and thick hedge-rows. It is in the latter that I have heard of one being mistaken by a hen for a bush, in which she might lay her egg in safety. The fact was announced by the triumphant cackling which these birds vociferate on such occasions: the egg was consequently searched for, and found upon the hedgehog's back.

Hedgehogs feed on insects, slugs, frogs, eggs, young birds in the nest, mice, fallen fruits, and the roots of vegetables, especially the plantain, boring into the ground to get at these substances. They will clear a house of black beetles in a few weeks, as I can attest from my own experience. My kitchen was much infested, not only by them, but by a sort of degenerated cockroach, descended from the better conditioned Blattae, brought in my packages from a tropical country, and which had resisted all efforts for their extermination, such as boiling water, pepper, arsenic-wafers, mortar, etc. At last, a friend, whose house had been cleared of beetles by a hedgehog, made the animal over to me, very much to the discomfort of my cook, to whom it was an object of terror. The first night of its arrival a bed was made for it in a hamper, half full of hay, and a saucer of milk was set within. The next morning the hedgehog had disappeared, and for several days the search made for it was fruitless. That it was alive was proved by the milk being drunk out of the saucer in which it was placed. One night I purposely went into the kitchen after the family had been for some time in bed, and, as I opened the door, I saw the little creature slink into a hole under the oven attached to the grate. Fearing this would sometimes prove too hot for it, I had some bricks put in to fill up the aperture. The next night the bricks were pulled away, and overturned, evincing a degree of strength which astonished us; but, after that, we left the animal to its own care. The beetles and cockroaches visibly disappeared, but as they disappeared other things also vanished; kitchen cloths left to dry at night were missing; then, a silk handkerchief. At last a night-cap left on the dresser was gone; and these abstractions were most mysterious. The next day there was a general search in possible and impossible places, and the end of a muslin string was seen in the oven-hole; it was seized on, and not only was the night-cap dragged out, but all the missing and not missing articles which the hedgehog had purloined; most of them were much torn, and it was supposed that the poor beast had taken possession of them to make a soft bed. I have not seen such a propensity noticed elsewhere, and it may be a useful hint to those who keep hedgehogs. All endeavours to make this animal friendly were unavailing; but I am told, that hedgehogs are frequently quite domesticated; and even shew a degree of affection.

Dr. Buckland ascertained the manner in which hedgehogs kill snakes; they make a sudden attack on the reptile, give it a fierce bite, and then, with the utmost dexterity, roll themselves up so as to present nothing but spines when the snake retaliates. They repeat this manoeuvre several times, till the back of the snake is broken in various places; they then pass it through their jaws, cracking its bones at short intervals; after which they eat it all up, beginning at the tail. The old legend, that hedgehogs suck the udders of cows as they lie on the ground chewing the cud is, of course, wholly without foundation. They retreat to holes in trees, or in the earth where they make a bed of leaves, moss, etc., in which they roll themselves, and these substances sticking to the spines make them look like a bundle of vegetable matter. In this condition they pass the winter, in a state of torpidity; but it should be mentioned, that one which was tame, retained its activity the whole year. There are instances of hedgehogs performing the office of turnspits in a kitchen; and, from the facility with which they accommodate themselves to all sorts of food, they are easily kept. They, however, when once accustomed to animal diet, will attack young game; and one was detected in the south of Scotland in the act of killing a leveret.

BEARS.

Among the Carnivora, or flesh-eating animals, Bears take the first place; for their characters and habits link them in some degree with the preceding order, the Insectivora. Both principally live on fruit, grains, and insects, and only eat flesh from necessity, or some peculiarity of life, such as confinement, or education.

The Carnivora are divided by naturalists into three tribes, the characters for which are taken from their feet and manner of walking. Bears rank among the Plantigrada, or those which put the whole of their feet firmly upon the ground when they walk. They are occasionally cunning and ferocious, but often evince good humour, and a great love of fun. In their wild state they are solitary the greater part of their lives; they climb trees with great facility, live in caverns, holes, and hollow trees; and in cold countries, retire to some secluded spot during the winter, where they remain concealed, and bring forth their young. Some say they are torpid; but this cannot be, for the female bears come from their retreats with cubs which have lived upon them, and it is not likely, that they can have reared them and remained without food; they are, however, often very lean and wasted, and the absorption of their generally large portion of fat, contributes to their nourishment. The story that they live by sucking their paws is, as may be supposed, a fable; when well-fed they always lick their paws, very often accompanying the action with a peculiar sort of mumbling noise. There are a few which will never eat flesh, and all are able to do without it. They are, generally speaking, large, clumsy and awkward, possessing large claws for digging; and often walk on their hind-feet, a facility afforded them by the peculiar formation of their thigh-bone. They do not often attack in the first instance, unless impelled by hunger or danger; they are, however, formidable opponents when excited. In former times there were few parts of the globe in which they were not to be found; but like other wild animals, they have disappeared before the advance of man. Still they are found in certain spots from the northern regions of the world, to the burning climes of Africa, Asia, and America. The latest date of their appearance in Great Britain, was in Scotland, during the year 1057.

Bears are always covered with thick fur; which, notwithstanding its coarseness, is much prized for various purposes. They afford much sport to those inclined for such exercises; but the cruel practice of bear-baiting is discontinued. In an old edition of Hudibras, there is a curious note of a mode of running at the devoted bears with wheelbarrows, on which they vented their fury, and the baiters thus had them at their mercy. At present the hunts are regularly organised fights, or battles, besides which there are many ways of catching them in traps, pitfalls, etc.

The large polar bear (Ursus Maritimus), with its white fur, its long, flattened head, and black claws, may be seen in great perfection at the Zoological Gardens. In its own country, during the winter, it lives chiefly on seal's flesh, but in the summer eats berries, sea-weed, and marsh plants. It is one of the most formidable of the race; and may be seen climbing mountains of ice, and swimming from floe to floe with the greatest rapidity. Captain Lyon tells us, that when a seal lies just ashore, the bear gets quietly into the water and swims away from him to leeward; he then takes short dives, and manages so that the last dive shall bring him back close to the seal, which tries to escape by rolling into the water, when he falls into the bear's paws; and if he should lie still, the bear springs upon and devours him; its favourite food, however, is the floating carcases of whales. The gait of all bears is a sort of shuffle; but this one goes at such a rate, that its pace is equal to a horse's gallop. It is remarkably sagacious, and often defeats the stratagems practised for its capture. A female with two cubs was pursued across a field of ice by a party of sailors; at first she urged the young ones to increase their speed, by running in front of them, turning round, and evincing, by gesture and voice, great anxiety for their progress; but finding that their pursuers gained upon them, she alternately carried, pushed, or pitched them forwards, until she effected their escape. The cubs seemed to arrange themselves for the throw, and when thus sent forwards some yards in advance, ran on till she again came up to them, when they alternately placed themselves before her.

A she-bear and two large cubs, being attracted by the scent of some blubber, proceeding from a seahorse, which had been set on fire, and was burning on the ice, ran eagerly towards it, dragged some pieces out of the flames, and eat them with great voracity. The sailors threw them some lumps still left in their possession, which the old bear took away and laid before her cubs, reserving only a small piece for herself. As they were eating the last piece, the men shot the cubs, and wounded the mother. Her distress was most painful to behold, and, though wounded, she crawled to the spot where they lay, tore the piece of flesh into pieces, and put some before each. Finding they did not eat, she tried to raise them, making piteous moans all the time. She then went to some distance, looked back and moaned, and this failing to entice them, she returned and licked their wounds. She did this a second time, and still finding that the cubs did not follow, she went round and pawed them with great tenderness. Being at last convinced that they were lifeless, she raised her head towards the ship, and, by a growl, seemed to reproach their destroyers. They returned this with a volley of musket balls; she fell between her cubs, and died licking their wounds.

The black bear of Canada is a formidable creature, and Dr. Richardson contradicts the assertion that it is not swift of foot; he says that it soon outstrips the swiftest runner, and adds, that it climbs as well, if not better than a cat. It feeds on berries, eggs, and roots; but although it does not seek flesh, it does not refuse it when offered. A young bear of this kind roughly handled a Canadian settler, who, being a very large powerful man, returned hug for hug, till the surprised bear let go its hold. It had ventured into some young plantations, where it was committing much mischief, and the settler had endeavoured to frighten it away. A friend of mine was in the house when the gentleman returned home, his clothes torn in the struggle, and very much exhausted by the encounter; he dropped into a chair, and nearly fainted, but a little brandy revived him, though he was ill some days from the pressure.

A young English officer, who was stationed at a lone fortress in the same country, amused himself by taming a bear of the above species. He taught him to fetch and carry, to follow him like a dog, and to wait patiently at meal time for his share. He took the bear with him when he returned to England, and he became a great favourite with the passengers and the ship's company. Bruin, however, especially attached himself to a little girl, about four years old, the daughter of one of the ladies on board, who romped with him as she would with a dog. In one of these games of play, he seized her with one fore paw, and with the other clambered and clung to the rigging, till he lodged her and himself in the main top, where, regardless of her cries and the agony of her mother, he tried to continue his romp. It would not do to pursue the pair, for fear the bear should drop the child; and his master, knowing how fond he was of sugar, had some mattresses placed round the mast, in case the child should fall, and then strewed a quantity of the sugar on the deck; he called Bruin, and pointed to it, who, after a moment's hesitation, came down as he went up, bringing the child in safety. He was, of course, deprived of his liberty during the rest of his voyage.

This same black bear of Canada, after it has hugged its antagonists to death, tears them open with its hind feet. It will ward off blows like an accomplished boxer; for, as it would be of no use to strike him on his thickly-covered body, the attacks are usually made about the head. A man who wantonly threw an axe at a male bear as he passed, wounded him, whereupon the beast rushed at him, the man fell backwards over a fallen tree, and, in so doing, tore off a sharp-pointed knob of wood, which he thrust down the bear's throat, and so killed him; not, however, before he had received his own death wound from the hind foot. He walked home holding in his intestines, and died a day or two after.

An old hunter, named Ruhe, having set his traps to catch beavers, returned to the stream to ascertain his success; he missed one of them, and, on looking for it, saw signs of a bear having passed that way. As he went on, he heard the noise of a heavy body breaking through the bushes in the thicket. He hid himself behind a rock, and saw a huge bear, limping on three legs to a flat piece of rock, upon which it seated itself, and on raising one of its fore paws Ruhe discovered that it was encircled by the lost trap. The bear lifted the iron glove towards his face, examined it, turned his paw round and round, bent his head from side to side, looked at the trap askance with the most puzzled air, felt the encumbrance, tapped it on the rock, and evidently knew not what to do. Then he began to feel pain and licked it; but Ruhe soon put an end to all his conjectures, by shooting him dead.

Of all bears, the grizzly is said to be the most formidable, both for size and ferocity, and Mr. Ruxton tells the following anecdote, in which one of them makes a conspicuous figure:--"A trapper, named Glass, and a companion, were setting their beaver traps in a stream to the north of the river Platte, when they saw a large, grizzly bear turning up the turf near by, and searching for roots and pig-nuts. The two men crept to the thicket, and fired at him; they wounded, but did not kill him; the beast groaned, jumped all four legs from the ground, and, snorting with pain and fury, charged towards the place from whence came the smoke of the rifles. The men rushed through the thicket, where the underwood almost impeded their progress; but the beast's weight and strength carried him along so fast, that he soon came up with them. A steep bluff was situated a hundred yards off, with a level plain of grass between it and the thicket; the hunters flew across the latter with the utmost speed, the bear after them. When he reached about halfway, Glass stumbled over a stone and fell. He rose, and the bear stood before him on his hind legs. Glass called to his companion to fire, and he himself sent the contents of his pistol into the bear's body. The furious animal, with the blood streaming from his nose and mouth, knocked the pistol away with one paw, while he stuck the claws of the other into the flesh of his antagonist, and rolled with him on the ground. Glass managed to reach his knife, and plunged it several times into the bear, while the latter, with tooth and claw, tore his flesh. At last, blinded with blood and exhaustion, the knife fell from the trapper's hand, and he became insensible. His companion, who thought his turn would come next, did not even think of reloading his rifle, and fled to the camp, where others of his party were resting, to tell the miserable fate of their companion. Assistance was sent, and Glass still breathed, but the bear lay across him quite dead, from three bullets and twenty knife wounds; the man's flesh was torn away in slips, and lumps of it lay upon the ground; his scalp hung bleeding over his face, which was also torn. The men took away the trapper's hunting-shirt, moccasins, and arms, dragged the bear off his body, and left him, declaring, when they rejoined their party, that they had completed his burial."