Part 10

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.