JOHN.

No. IV.

My next visit to my old hunting-ground, the lane and brook, happened on

a day in the first hay-harvest, when the verdant sward of the meadows

was rapidly sinking before the keen-edged scythes swung by vigorous

mowers. This unexpected circumstance afforded me considerable pleasure,

for it promised me a freer scope to my wanderings, and might also enable

me to ascertain various particulars concerning which my curiosity had

long been awakened. Nor was this promise unattended by fruition of my

wishes. The reader may recollect that, in my first walk, a neat burrow

in the grass, above ground, was observed, without my knowing its author.

The advance of the mowers explained this satisfactorily, for in cutting

the long grass, they exposed several nests of field-mice, which, by

means of these grass-covered alleys, passed to the stream in search of

food or drink, unseen by their enemies, the hawks and owls. The numbers

of these little creatures were truly surprising: their fecundity is so

great, and their food so abundant, that, were they not preyed upon by

many other animals, and destroyed in great numbers by man, they would

become exceedingly troublesome. There are various species of them, all

bearing a very considerable resemblance to each other, and having, to an

incidental observer, much of the appearance of the domestic mouse.

Slight attention, however, is requisite to perceive very striking

differences, and the discrimination of these will prove a source of

considerable gratification to the inquirer. The nests are very nicely

made, and look much like a bird's nest, being lined with soft materials,

and usually placed in some snug little hollow, or at the root of a

strong tuft of grass. Upon the grass roots and seeds these nibblers

principally feed; and, where very abundant, the effects of their hunger

may be seen in the brown and withered aspect of the grass they have

injured at the root. But, under ordinary circumstances, the hawks, owls,

domestic cat, weasels, crows, etc. keep them in such limits, as prevent

them from doing essential damage.

I had just observed another and a smaller grassy covered way, where the

mowers had passed along, when my attention was called towards a wagon at

a short distance, which was receiving its load. Shouts and laughter,

accompanied by a general running and scrambling of the people, indicated

that some rare sport was going forward. When I approached, I found that

the object of chase was a jumping mouse, whose actions it was truly

delightful to witness. When not closely pressed by its pursuers, it ran

with some rapidity, in the usual manner, as if seeking concealment. But

in a moment it would vault into the air, and skim along for ten or

twelve feet, looking more like a bird than a little quadruped. After

continuing this for some time, and nearly exhausting its pursuers with

running and falling over each other, the frightened creature was

accidentally struck down by one of the workmen, during one of its

beautiful leaps, and killed. As the hunters saw nothing worthy of

attention in the dead body of the animal, they very willingly resigned

it to me; and with great satisfaction I retreated to a willow shade, to

read what nature had written in its form for my instruction. The general

appearance was mouse-like; but the length and slenderness of the body,

the shortness of its fore-limbs, and the disproportionate length of its

hind-limbs, together with the peculiarity of its tail, all indicated its

adaptation to the peculiar kind of action I had just witnessed. A sight

of this little creature vaulting or bounding through the air, strongly

reminded me of what I had read of the great kangaroo of New Holland; and

I could not help regarding our little jumper as in some respects a sort

of miniature resemblance of that curious animal. It was not evident,

however, that the jumping mouse derived the aid from its tail, which so

powerfully assists the kangaroo. Though long, and sufficiently stout in

proportion, it had none of the robust muscularity which, in the New

Holland animal, impels the lower part of the body immediately upward. In

this mouse, the leap is principally, if not entirely, effected by a

sudden and violent extension of the long hind-limbs, the muscles of

which are strong, and admirably suited to their object. We have heard

that these little animals feed on the roots, etc. of the green herbage,

and that they are every season to be found in the meadows. It may

perhaps puzzle some to imagine how they subsist through the severities

of winter, when vegetation is at rest, and the earth generally frozen.

Here we find another occasion to admire the all-perfect designs of the

awful Author of nature, who has endowed a great number of animals with

the faculty of retiring into the earth, and passing whole months in a

state of repose so complete, as to allow all the functions of the body

to be suspended, until the returning warmth of the spring calls them

forth to renewed activity and enjoyment. The jumping mouse, when the

chill weather begins to draw nigh, digs down about six or eight inches

into the soil, and there forms a little globular cell, as much larger

than his own body as will allow a sufficient covering of fine grass to

be introduced. This being obtained, he contrives to coil up his body and

limbs in the centre of the soft dry grass, so as to form a complete

ball; and so compact is this, that, when taken out with the torpid

animal, it may be rolled across a floor without injury. In this snug

cell, which is soon filled up and closed externally, the jumping mouse

securely abides through all the frosts and storms of winter, needing

neither food nor fuel, being utterly quiescent, and apparently dead,

though susceptible at any time of reanimation, by being very gradually

stimulated by light and heat.

The little burrow under examination, when called to observe the jumping

mouse, proved to be made by the merry musicians of the meadows, the

field-crickets, _acheta campestris_. These lively black crickets are

very numerous, and contribute very largely to that general song which is

so delightful to the ear of the true lover of nature, as it rises on the

air from myriads of happy creatures rejoicing amid the bounties

conferred on them by Providence. It is not _a voice_ that the crickets

utter, but a regular vibration of musical chords, produced by nibbing

the nervures of the elytra against a sort of network intended to produce

the vibrations. The reader will find an excellent description of the

apparatus in Kirby and Spence's book, but he may enjoy a much more

satisfactory comprehension of the whole, by visiting the field-cricket

in his summer residence, see him tuning his viol, and awakening the

echoes with his music. By such an examination as may be there obtained,

he may derive more knowledge than by frequent perusal of the most

eloquent writings, and perhaps observe circumstances which the learned

authors are utterly ignorant of.

Among the great variety of burrows formed in the grass, or under the

surface of the soil, by various animals and insects, there is one that I

have often anxiously and, as yet, fruitlessly explored. This burrow is

formed by the smallest quadruped animal known to man, the minute

_shrew_, which, when full grown, rarely exceeds the weight of

_thirty-six grains_. I had seen specimens of this very interesting

creature in the museum, and had been taught, by a more experienced

friend, to distinguish its burrow, which I have often perseveringly

traced, with the hope of finding the living animal, but in vain. On one

occasion, I patiently pursued a burrow nearly round a large barn,

opening it all the way. I followed it under the barn floor, which was

sufficiently high to allow me to crawl beneath. There I traced it about

to a tiresome extent, and was at length rewarded by discovering where it

terminated, under a foundation-stone, perfectly safe from my attempts.

Most probably a whole family of them were then present, and I had my

labour for my pains. As these little creatures are nocturnal, and are

rarely seen, from the nature of the places they frequent, the most

probable mode of taking them alive would be, by placing a small

mouse-trap in their way, baited with a little tainted or slightly

spoiled meat. If a common mouse-trap be used, it is necessary to work it

over with additional wire, as this shrew could pass between the bars

even of a close mouse-trap. They are sometimes killed by cats, and thus

obtained, as the cat never eats them, perhaps on account of their rank

smell, owing to a peculiar glandular apparatus on each side, that pours

out a powerfully odorous greasy substance. The species of the shrew

genus are not all so exceedingly diminutive, as some of them are even

larger than a common mouse. They have their teeth coloured at the tips

in a remarkable manner; it is generally of a pitchy brown, or dark

chestnut hue, and, like the colouring of the teeth in the beaver and

other animals, is owing to the enamel being thus formed, and not to any

mere accident of diet. The shrews are most common about stables and

cow-houses; and there, should I ever take the field again, my traps

shall be set, as my desire to have one of these little quadrupeds is

still as great as ever.

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