Transcriber's Note: [=o] represents a macron over the letter o.
Spelling has been harmonized. CONTENTS categories have been inserted
in text.
THE WAYSIDE
AND WOODLAND
SERIES
ANIMAL LIFE
OF
THE BRITISH ISLES
[Illustration: _Pl. 1._ _Frontispiece._
*Hedgehog preparing to attack Grass Snake.*]
ANIMAL LIFE
OF THE
BRITISH ISLES
A POCKET GUIDE TO THE
MAMMALS, REPTILES AND BATRACHIANS
OF WAYSIDE AND WOODLAND
BY
EDWARD STEP, F.L.S.
AUTHOR OF
"WAYSIDE AND WOODLAND TREES"
"WAYSIDE AND WOODLAND BLOSSOMS," ETC., ETC.
WITH
111 PLATES FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
INCLUDING 48 IN COLOUR
BY W. J. STOKOE
LONDON
FREDERICK WARNE & CO. LTD.
AND NEW YORK
1921
"The lusty life of wood and underwood,
. . . . . . . .
The tawny Squirrel vaulting through the boughs,
The Deer, the high-back'd Polecat, the Wild Boar,
The burrowing Badger."
TENNYSON, _The Foresters_.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
PREFACE
It is unnecessary to say much by way of Preface to the present volume,
the series of popular handbooks of which it forms part being so widely
known to Nature-lovers. The same methods of treatment that were followed
in the previous volumes have been pursued here, though the smaller
number of species falling within its scope has allowed a fuller
consideration of each.
With the exception of the birds (dealt with in Mr. Coward's companion
volumes), all the terrestrial animals endowed with a bony framework are
included. There are, indeed, a few other native mammals that might have
been described; but as they are restricted to the sea it was felt to be
undesirable to include their life-histories in the "Wayside and Woodland
Series."
The Author and Publishers desire to express their thanks to the
undermentioned naturalist photographers who have contributed their
admirable work for reproduction, viz.: Mr. Douglas English, F.Z.S., for
Plates 1, 5, 6, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 17, 20, 23, 25, 26, 27, 37 to 41,
46, 47, 48, 50, 53 to 62, 65, 66, 69, 70, 71, 75, 84, 89, 90, 93, 96,
97, 98, 101, 103, 104, 105, and the lower photograph on Plate 109. To
Mr. Oxley Grabham for Plates 3, 4, 7, 8, 21, 24, 28, 30, 32, 43, 49,
52, 63, 85, 94, 95, and 107. Mr. Riley Fortune for Plates 16, 19, 33,
45, 51, 77 to 80, 82, and 88. Mr. Charles Reid for Plates 2, 34, 35, 42,
64, 73, 76, and 83. Mr. Stanley C. Johnson, B.A., for Plates 92, 99,
100, 106, 108, 110, 111, and the upper subject on Plate 109. Mr. E. W.
Taylor for Plates 18, 86, and 91.
The Author's own contribution consists of Plates 9, 13, 22, 29, 31, 36,
44, 67, 68, 72, 74, and 87.
The appearance of 48 of these photographs in the natural colours is due
to the skilful work of Mr. W. J. Stokoe.
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE v
INTRODUCTORY 1
INSECT-EATERS: MOLE, SHREWS, AND HEDGEHOG 9
FLYING MAMMALS: BATS 30
FLESH-EATERS: FOX, BADGER, OTTER, WEASELS, MARTENS,
AND WILD CAT 52
GNAWING ANIMALS: RABBIT, HARES, DORMOUSE, VOLES,
MICE, RATS, AND SQUIRRELS 78
HOOFED ANIMALS: RED DEER, FALLOW DEER, AND ROE
DEER 124
LIZARDS AND SLOW-WORM 136
SNAKES 146
AMPHIBIOUS ANIMALS: FROGS, TOADS, AND NEWTS 157
CLASSIFIED INDEX TO ORDERS, GENERA, AND SPECIES 179
GENERAL INDEX 181
INTRODUCTORY
Apart from the birds and the fishes, the vertebrates or backboned
animals of the British Islands constitute a very select group. Within
the historical period several former notable members of that company
have ceased to be represented in the freedom of nature in this country,
and their forms can be studied only in museums and zoological gardens.
Although we have to regret the absence from our list of the Beaver and
the Wild Boar, the Ure-ox and the Short-horned Wild Ox, the Brown Bear
and the savage Wolf, there are still sufficient of our vertebrates left
to give a zest to the observations of the rambler in the woodlands, over
the mountains and along the quiet waysides and streams of our country.
To observe these mammals, reptiles, and batrachians we must go afoot:
the bicycle or the motor-car is of use only to convey us quickly out
of town to appropriate localities in the open country. Arrived there,
quietness must be the order of the day--the footfall light and the voice
lowered in conversation if there are two or more in company. The sitter
will see far more than the man who wants to perambulate the entire
wood or explore the acreage of moorland. A comfortable seat having been
chosen with deliberation for the view it affords of a wood margin, a
hillside, or stream curve, according to the habits of the creatures we
are hoping to see, the field-glass should be brought into requisition,
and every inch of the field of vision carefully and repeatedly scanned.
The movement of a grass-blade, the trembling of a fern frond or the
rustling of a dead leaf will often indicate the precise spot to be
watched. It will be understood that as most of these creatures are more
or less nocturnal in their activities, observation must be continued
until sometime after dusk at least, in order to be successful.
If the observer is new to this work, he should endeavour, if
possible--on the first occasion at least--to get as companion a friend
who has already some experience of field-work. A day with such a
companion will do more to open his eyes than a whole chapter of printed
hints; for it is as true to-day as it was in 1855, when Charles Kingsley
wrote in his "Glaucus"--"The greatest difficulty in the way of beginners
is (as in most things) to 'learn the art of learning.' They go out,
search, find less than they expected, and give the subject up in
disappointment. It is good to begin, therefore, if possible by playing
the part of 'jackal' to some practised naturalist, who will show the
tyro where to look, what to look for, and, moreover, what it is that he
has found: often no easy matter to discover." On that last point the
"Wayside and Woodland Series" has done much to simplify matters.
Respecting the utility of taking an interest in these fellow inhabitants
of our country, one of the intellectual giants[A] of the Victorian
Age described Natural History "as the greatest of all sources of that
pleasure which is derivable from beauty. I do not pretend," he says,
"that natural history knowledge, as such, can increase our sense of
the beautiful in natural objects. I do not suppose that the dead soul
of Peter Bell, of whom the great poet of nature says--
"'A primrose by the river's brim,
A yellow primrose was to him--
And it was nothing more,'
would have been a whit roused from its apathy by the information that
the primrose is a Dicotyledonous Exogen with a monopetalous corolla
and central placentation. But I advocate natural history knowledge
from this point of view, because it would lead us to _seek_ the beauties
of natural objects, instead of trusting to chance to force them on our
attention. To a person uninstructed in natural history, his country or
sea-side stroll is a walk through a gallery filled with wonderful works
of art, nine-tenths of which have their faces turned to the wall. Teach
him something of natural history, and you place in his hands a catalogue
of those which are worth turning round. Surely our innocent pleasures
are not so abundant in this life that we can afford to despise this or
any other source of them. We should fear being banished for our neglect
to that limbo, where the great Florentine tells us are those who during
this life 'wept when they might be joyful.'"
[Footnote A: Huxley.]
Some of the species described have a very limited range in our country
at present, the Deer, for example, being restricted as wild animals
to-day to the Scottish mountains and glens and the West Country moors,
but even these may be studied as tolerably free animals in the New
Forest, Epping Forest, and in many parks such as those at Windsor
and Richmond, as well as in private domains. To the Deer we must add
the Wild Cat, the Pine Marten, and the Alpine Hare as mammals that
must be sought in special restricted areas; but most of the others
may be reckoned to be met with, sooner rather than later, in our
country rambles.
In view of the practice usual in natural histories of arranging the
vertebrate animals in a series with the Birds separating the Mammals
from the Reptiles, it may at first sight appear incongruous to bring
the latter classes together as we have done; but to the present writer
the fitness of this arrangement is quite clear. It is widely held
that the Mammalia--the highest class of vertebrates, and therefore
the most complex of all animals--have been evolved from an extinct
group (_Theromorpha_) of Reptiles, whose remains are found in strata
of the Permian and Jurassic Periods. There are, it is true, similar
evidences furnished by the rocks showing that the Birds had a reptilian
origin; but the Birds did not form an evolutionary stage between the
Reptile and the Mammal, but evolved side by side with the latter.
The existing British Mammals represent the six orders Insectivora
(shrews, mole, and hedgehog), Chiroptera (bats), Carnivora (beasts
of prey), Rodentia (gnawing animals), Cetacea (whales and dolphins),
and Ungulata (hoofed animals). These all agree with the Reptiles and
Batrachians in having a many-jointed internal skeleton, a bony framework
giving support to a system of powerful muscles; and of this framework
the most important feature is the long backbone or vertebral column
consisting of a number of bony rings jointed together by outgrowths
or "processes," and held in position by strong ligaments. This
attachment of the rings by their flat surfaces produces the spine or
vertebral column, with a canal on its upper half in which lies the
spinal cord. This column, for descriptive purposes, is divided into
regions--cervical, dorsal, lumbar, sacral, and caudal. The number of
rings or vertebræ in each region varies somewhat in the different
classes and orders, but as a rule the cervical or neck vertebræ are
seven; the dorsal, to which the ribs are connected, are about thirteen
(extreme numbers are nine and twenty-two); the vertebræ of the lumbar or
loin region are usually six or seven, but they vary inversely to those
of the dorsal from two to twenty-three; the sacral vertebræ (about five)
are in the adult fused together into a solid bone (sacrum) of triangular
shape; the caudal vertebræ vary from three (man) to nearly fifty,
according to the length of tail common to the genus or species.
In front of the neck is the skull, in the Mammals a bony case containing
the brain and organs of sense, made up of plates interlocking by their
zigzag margins; in the Reptiles and lower vertebrates a more or less
open framework. The lower jaw, or mandible, is in adult Mammals the only
part of the skull that is separate. Its hinder ends work in cavities on
the lower part of the skull, and are held in position by strong
ligaments and muscles.
The ribs are attached to the dorsal vertebræ, and connect by cartilage
at the other end with the sternum or breastbone--really a series of
united bones in the middle line of the chest (thorax). The blade-bones
(scapula) of the forelimbs are attached to the upper ribs by the flat
or concave side; and the hinder limbs are connected strongly to the
sacrum by means of the hip-bones which are united below to form the
pelvis, to which the thigh-bone is jointed. The Reptiles and Amphibians
exhibit some differences in their skeletal structure which will be
pointed out later.
[Illustration: *Skeleton of the Common Badger.*]
In the matter of teeth there is great diversity among the Mammals--even
in the small number of British species. With a view to a proper
understanding of the teeth in, say, the Rodents and the Ungulates, it
is necessary to write a few words respecting tooth-structure. Although
in adult Mammals the teeth are so intimately connected with the jaw as
to appear outgrowths from it, this is not the case really. They
originate in the skin which covers the jaw, and the most effective
part of their structure--the enamel--is derived from the epidermis,
the outer layer of the skin. The centre of each tooth is filled with
pulp, around which is the bone-like dentine with an outer coat of hard,
glossy enamel. In the incisors or cutting teeth of the Rodents, while
the front of the tooth is protected by a thick plate of hard enamel,
the back portion consists only of dentine which wears away whilst the
enamel front maintains a chisel-like cutting edge. In the grinding teeth
or molars, especially noticeable in the Ungulates, the enamel is thrown
into ridges and tubercles, so that the action of these in the upper and
lower jaws upon each other is like that of "the upper and the nether
millstones" in grinding corn.
Four forms of teeth are recognised in the Mammals: the incisors in the
front of the jaw, the pointed, round canines or "eye-teeth" next to
them, and at the sides the cheek teeth, separated into premolars and
molars. In describing the teeth in any species a simple formula is
adopted which shows at a glance the number of each kind in one side
of each jaw. Taking our own normal dental equipment as an example, it
would be expressed in this fashion:--
_i 2/2, c 1/1, pm 2/2, m 3/3 = 32_
the upper figures representing the number of each kind in the upper jaw
and the lower figures the teeth of the lower jaw, and the total being
reached by multiplying by two for the two sides of the skull. Often
in our rambles we may come across the skull of some animal, and an
examination of the teeth will help us to the identity of its late owner.
For the purposes of the present work it is unnecessary to enter minutely
into all the characters that distinguish the Mammals from the other
backboned animals. One is really sufficient--the possession of glands
(teats) in the skin of the female which secrete milk for the nourishment
of the new-born young. There are, in addition, differences in the
structure of the skull and the articulation of the lower jaw. The skin
is always more or less clothed with hair. The heart has a single left
aortic arch, the blood is hot, and the heart and lungs are lodged in a
special cavity separated from the abdomen by a muscular partition known
as the diaphragm.
Respecting one item in the foregoing--it has been said truly that the
possession of a few or many true hairs as outgrowths from pits in the
skin is alone sufficient to distinguish a Mammal from any other animal.
Although these hairs may take different forms, they are alike in their
origin--even, to take an extreme case, the spines of the Hedgehog. Each
hair consists of an outer wall enclosing a central cavity filled with
pith, in which is the dark pigment which gives the hair its colour.
In the Mammals this pigment is always brown, and the varying tints of
the hairs--black, brown, tawny, cream-colour or white--depends upon
the amount of pigment and its disposition in the pith, combined with
differences in the density of the envelope. In some cases, as about the
mouth, eyes, and ears of the Cat, long sensitive hairs are connected
with the terminations of nerves, which help the animal to feel its way.
There are no marked colour differences in the fur of the sexes, such as
we find in the plumage of Birds; though we do find such discrepancies
in the presence or absence of horns in Deer, and in the manes and
hair-tufts of some exotic Mammals. Certain species, such as the Alpine
Hare and the Stoat, undergo a marked seasonal change of colour in the
fur under the influence of low temperature. This may be quite sudden,
owing to a rapid fall of temperature, and--as shown by Metchnikoff--is
effected by the pigment granules being consumed by a sort of phagocyte.
By Metchnikoff's researches an old controversy appears to have been
settled finally.
ANIMAL LIFE
OF THE BRITISH ISLES.
INSECT-EATERS: MOLE, SHREWS, AND HEDGEHOG
*Hedgehog* (_Erinaceus europæus_, Linn.).
The Hedgehog, Urchin or Hedgepig is so distinct from every other British
mammal, that anybody could correctly name it at sight. The development
of many of its hairs into long, stiff spines gives it an individuality
that is not to be confused with any other; but there are other
peculiarities, such as the extreme shortness of the head and neck
in comparison with the bulk of its body, and the muscular power that
enables it to remain rolled into a ball with every part protected
by erected spines. But for the fact that the Hedgehog is frequently
introduced into houses and gardens to keep down insect pests, few
town-dwellers would have had the opportunity of seeing the Hedgehog
alive; for it is a nocturnal beast coming from its retreat only at dusk
and hunting through the night. There are, however, exceptions to this
rule when a heavy summer downpour of rain has drenched the herbage and
caused the snails and slugs to show considerable activity. Then the
Hedgehog wakens also, and reduces their numbers; for it is with such
fare, plus insects, worms, mice, rats, frogs, lizards and snakes, that
the Hedgehog maintains his portliness. He passes the day under a heap
of dead leaves or moss in a spinney or thick hedgerow, and the solitary
observer in such places may sometimes be guided to this retreat by his
snoring!
The winter time is spent as a rule in continued sleep; though he has
been known on mild nights in winter to wake up and prowl around for
the very few good things then to be found. But he is no intermittent
hibernator like the Squirrel and Dormouse; therefore he makes no
provision by laying up winter stores, which are only possible for
seed-feeders. For his winter retreat he looks out for a hole in the
bank--perhaps one that has been gradually enlarged by a colony of wasps
to accommodate their continually increasing nest--and this he lines with
dry leaves and moss, carried in by the mouth. Then he snuggles into his
bed and goes to sleep until the spring.
The Hedgehog's eyesight does not appear to be very good, but this is
made up to him by a very acute sense of smell. He hunts along the
hedgebottoms and the sides of ditches, and in some localities he is
frequently to be seen in such situations. But we have met with signs of
his presence high up on the moors where he finds dense cover among the
heather and bilberry. His common diet of snails and beetles is varied
by the eggs of the robin and meadow pipit, and occasionally he stumbles
upon a huge store of food in the shape of a dozen or more eggs of
pheasant or partridge. By depressing his spines he may even find his way
between the bars of a hen-coop, but after eating a great part of the hen
he may be too portly to get out, and then falls a victim to the enraged
poultry-farmer. He is, of course, too short-legged to accomplish the
operation formerly attributed to him--that of milking cows--unless, of
course, the cow assented to the robbery and laid down to it. But no
evidence has been given in support of the charge, which is of kindred
nature to the aspersions of Pliny, Ælian and other of the ancients that
it climbed apple and fig trees, gathering and throwing down the fruit,
then throwing itself down so that its spines would impale its plunder
with which it walked off. One weak point in the story is the fact
that the Hedgehog has no use for such fare as apples, and as for the
milk--any one inspecting the small gape of his mouth would exonerate him
from the charge of getting a cow's dug into it.
[Illustration: _Pl. 2._ _B 10._
*Hedgehog.*
Erinaceus europæus.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 3._ _B 11._
*Female Hedgehog.*
With her family of young ones.]
He is said to be capable of killing and eating a wild Rabbit; but, of
course, although he runs well, he could never catch a Rabbit unless the
rodent were wounded. He is also a good swimmer and climber, not only
of trees but of rain-pipes and rough walls, especially where these are
creeper-clad. In addition to the food mentioned above he takes slugs and
worms, mice, rats, lizards, frogs, and snakes--including the Viper to
whose poison he is immune. It is certain that it fights with Rats, and
Lord Lilford has told how it cleared a garden of them; but the Rat is
sometimes the victor and eats the Hedgehog. The Hedgehog on occasion
will indulge in a feast of carrion.
Only animals that are very hungry will attack the Hedgehog, and then
the young are preferred if available. Gipsies, Foxes, and Badgers appear
to be his principal enemies. The Fox is said to have a special and
disgusting method of making the Hedgehog unroll when he is on the
defensive; and a writer in _The Field_ some years ago stated that when
caught by the Badger the Hedgehog utters a pitiful wail, though he will
permit himself to be torn to pieces by a terrier without a cry.
The male and female are known respectively as Boar and Sow, to carry out
the idea that they are a lesser kind of pig. Though the males are very
quarrelsome among themselves, they have the domestic virtue and mate
for life. Some time between the end of June and the end of August, the
female produces a litter of four to seven blind and helpless young,
sparsely clad with pale, flexible spines, and the ears drooping. The
spines gradually stiffen and become first dull grey, then brown and
ringed with three bands, of which the middle one is dark and the others
light. The spines are arranged in radiating groups, surrounded by coarse
harsh fur. Normally, these spines lie flat upon the body, but can be
erected at will. They cover the entire upper surface with the exception
of the short conical head and stumpy little tail--which is shorter even
than the short rounded ear. The head and underside are clothed with
harsh fur of a dirty brown or dirty white colour. In Devon and Cornwall
it is known as Furze-a-boar. It expresses its feelings by means of a
quiet grunt; the youngsters by a squeak.
[Illustration: *Skeleton of Hedgehog.*]
The adult male Hedgehog is about nine and a quarter inches in
measurement of head and body, and the tail is a little over an inch;
the female is less than the male by about three-quarters of an inch.
In relation to its entire bulk--it weighs one and a half pounds--the
neck and body are said to be shorter than in any other British mammal.
The eyes are bright and prominent. The legs are so short that the body
but little more than clears the ground in walking. Both hand and foot
has five clawed toes, and five pads on the sole.
The sharply pointed spines are about three-quarters of an inch in
length. They are quite hard, and have from twenty-two to twenty-four
longitudinal grooves. They have a hemispherical base above which is a
narrow neck sharply bent, so that the spine is almost at right angles
with the base.
When attacked the Hedgehog has the skunk-like habit of emitting a highly
objectionable odour in order to disgust its assailant.
We have never tried Hedgehog-meat as food, but several well-known men
have testified to its excellence when cooked gipsy-fashion--in a crust
of clay.
The dentition of the Hedgehog is _i 3/2, c 1/1, pm 3/2, m 3/3 = 36_.
* * * * *
With the Hedgehog we make our acquaintance with the order Insectivora,
which is represented in Britain by five species only: the others being
the Mole and three Shrews. In many respects they are similar to the
Rodentia, but the incisor teeth have not the chisel-shape of the
latter, and the molar teeth instead of having grinding crowns have
them developed into pointed eminences more suited for piercing the
chitinous armour of beetles, etc. The skeleton is furnished with
clavicles or collar-bones. There are five toes on each of the feet,
furnished with claws, and the animal walks on its soles. Our native
species represent three distinct families: _Erinacidæ_ (Hedgehog),
_Talpidæ_ (Mole), and _Soricidæ_ (Shrews).
*Mole* (_Talpa europæa_, Linn.).
However slight may be their personal acquaintance with the Mole himself,
his engineering work is only too evident to every possessor of a garden.
He may, perchance, live in a neighbour's land, but from time to time
we shall find some morning that he has driven a tunnel right across
the lawn or the tennis-court, marring its hitherto fair surface with an
ugly ridge and at intervals a little heap of raw earth. If we are
sufficiently self-controlled to dissemble our inward rage, we may get
some countervailing good out of the calamity. If we bring a garden chair
and sit quietly within range of the newest heap, our quiet watching may
be rewarded by a sight of the clever little engineer, and we may be
restrained from throwing stones at him by the thought that he is seeking
to reduce the number of those worm-casts on the lawn that have always
annoyed us so.
If the tunnelling work is not yet completed, we shall see a heaving of
the fresh heap of soil, and after a short interval the sharp, black
snout of the Mole will be pushed up from the centre to sniff the air and
ascertain if it is safe for him to make a fuller appearance. Satisfied
that it is so, he exhibits his shoulders and the broad shovel-shaped
hands with which he has accomplished all this navigator's work. Now
he is right out, even to his ridiculous little tail, and so to speak
swimming over the turf--for he cannot walk on his forefeet, the hands
being set sideways for his shovelling work.
Why has he come up? We can only surmise that he is satiated with the
luscious earthworms and beetle grubs that live under our lawn, and is
looking around for some more substantial fare--a dead bird or mouse,
perhaps, for he is by no means averse from picking bones for a change,
though his structure makes it impossible for him to catch any of the
vertebrates alive, but he can kill and eat a smaller or weaker Mole, and
has been reported to attack birds, lizards, frogs, and snakes; he will
not touch vegetable food. His appetite is almost insatiable, and there
is little substance in his underground fare, which impels him ever
to increase his sources of supply by boring fresh runs. There! your
movement alarmed him, and he has dived to earth again in the soft mould
of the border.
It is not only in the garden that we may see the Mole and his work. He
is perhaps more active in the meadow and the cornfield, where he has a
wider range for his long straight main run and the side runs that branch
off from it. In either of these places he is actually much more of
a nuisance than in our garden--difficult though it may be for the
garden-owner to realise this. When the hay or the wheat has to be reaped
the lines of hillocks across the field are an impediment to the reaping
machines. So the farmer has to set traps to minimise the nuisance as
much as possible. When these are of the bent hazel rod and noose
variety we may find the trapped Mole swinging from the rod that has
straightened itself, and can then indulge in a close inspection of
his form and structure. In pasture-land the mole-hills often appear
to occupy more space than the intervening surface.
The velvet-clad body is cylindrical, with the forelimbs set well
forward opposite the short neck. The long muzzle is blunt-pointed and
terminated by the nostrils, which are close together. His eyes are
mere points that have to be searched for among the close fur, and the
same applies to the ears which have no external shell. Shakespeare,
who thought the Mole sightless, was aware of his acute sense of
hearing--
"Pray you, tread softly, that the blind Mole may not
Hear a footfall."
The flexible snout is adapted for turning up the earth after the
immense hands with their large, strong nails have loosened it. They
are wide-open hands that cannot be closed and the palms always face
outwards. The hairs constituting the velvety fur are all set vertically,
so that they will lie forwards or backwards or to either side; and the
colour appears to change according to our point of view--two persons
viewing the same Mole can describe it correctly as black and as grey.
It is really a dark grey.
The teeth should be examined. In the upper jaw there are six incisors
of equal size--three on each side--two comparatively large canines of
triangular shape and flattened from the sides, eight little premolars
and six molars. In the lower jaw the dentition is somewhat puzzling,
as the canines are similar to the incisors and the first premolar is
developed into a suitable mate for the upper canine. These are not
teeth designed for gnawing like those of the Rat and Rabbit; they are
for biting insects and other small creatures, and agree in general with
those of the Shrews. The formula stands thus:
_i 3/3, c 1/1, p 4/4, m 3/3 = 44_.
The adult Mole is a slave to his appetite, and if kept without food for
only a few hours he dies of starvation. Knowing this, the old writers
averred that he kept a store of bitten worms so that he might draw upon
it on emergency; but this statement has never been substantiated by
careful observers.
Every one is familiar with the diagrams of what was styled fancifully
the Mole's Fortress, as though it were a stronghold held by force
against an enemy. There is really no more reason for calling it a
fortress than for applying the same term to a Rabbit's burrow or a
bird's nest. The idea upon which the originators of the fortress story
worked was that the molehill was a place of intricate passages where
the invader could be given the slip: Le Court, the French inventor of
the term, whose account was published by Antoine Cadet de Vaux in
1803, described its interior as having a central chamber surrounded
by two galleries, one above, the other below, connected by five nearly
equidistant passages. From the upper and smaller gallery three similar
passages gave access to the central hall, at the bottom of which was a
bolt-hole communicating with the main run. Plans and elevations, as an
architect would describe them, were made of these details, and for a
hundred years every writer on the Mole reproduced these illustrations
without doubting their absolute accuracy. It was so much more easy to
accept them than to patiently explore and accurately draw the actual
structure. Of course, what these writers described as a fortress must
not be confused with the "mole-heaves" or "tumps" thrown up at frequent
intervals to get rid of the earth from a newly excavated run. These
are only a few inches in height. The home of the Mole--the molehill
proper--is about a foot high and about three feet broad in any
direction. This, as a rule, will be found partly sheltered by a
bush, sometimes well out in a pasture, and always on the line of the
Mole's high-road, which lies deeper than the newer side runs he is
always excavating for hunting purposes. These are but little below
the surface, in the richer soil where there are more worms and grubs
and where the dug-out earth is easily pushed up to the surface by the
pressure of his head.
[Illustration: _Pl. 4._ _B 16._
*Albino Hedgehog.*
With pure white spines and hair;
eyes, skin and nails a delicate pink.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 5._ _C 17._
*Mole.*
Talpa europæa.]
Moral writers used to commiserate the poor blind Mole for having to
expend its energies in ceaseless toil in the dark underground, and
then rhapsodise on its marvellous adaptation to its rôle in nature,
getting lost in admiration of the mathematical skill displayed in the
construction of the "fortress" they had never seen and which was largely
an imaginative piece of engineering. It is true that its body may be
said to fit the tunnels it has excavated, though it might be more
accurate to say that the tunnels are modelled upon and by the Mole's
form, for it is the constant passage of the animal backwards and
forwards that smooths and consolidates their walls. The sense of
sight is of less importance to it than that of smell, which is
apparently its most highly-developed sense, though that of hearing
is very acute.
Although the eyes are complete in the sense that eyeballs and lenses are
present, they are so small and so completely surrounded by fur that it
does not appear that the Mole can get any great advantage from their
possession, even when he is above ground. The diameter of the eyeball
is one millimetre--that is, considerably less than the head of a "short
white" pin!
At the end of the last century, my friend Mr. Lionel E. Adams set
himself the task of providing some more reliable information as to
the life-story and habits of the Mole, and in four years of research
did not hesitate in the interests of science to break in upon the
digger's privacy in order to explore his so-called "fortress," and the
nursery of Mrs. Mole. He was not content with cutting sections of two or
three of these erections; he examined three hundred of them, finding a
considerable variation in their arrangements, but not one of them was
like the familiar drawings in the books of Thomas Bell and J. G. Wood,
copied from French authors.
Mr. Adams experienced great difficulty in making these observations
owing to the nature of the subject, but he persevered and made plans
of sections from a hundred of the three hundred hills he explored,
and found that no two plans were alike. Some were very simple, others
exceedingly complicated, "but," he says, "in no case have I found one
to tally exactly with the time-honoured figure originating from Geoffroy
Saint-Hilaire, elaborated by Blasius, and copied from him by every
succeeding writer, apparently without the slightest attempt at
verification."
But even in those cases where there is some approach to the plan of the
old diagram, Mr. Adams found that it was clearly not due to any scheme
for constructing a baffling system of bolt-runs for defensive purposes,
but purely incidental to the work of excavating the nest cavity and
getting rid of the material dug out. The easiest way to dispose of this
redundant earth is to push it to the surface, and to do this a tunnel
has to be made above the nest cavity. This, as a rule, is originally
only from two to six inches below the surface, but the hoisting out of
the surplus earth causes the formation of a solid dome of considerable
thickness above it. The tunnels thus made to get rid of earth usually
end in blind terminals, and would not be available for escape in the
case, say, of the "fortress" being entered by a Weasel. It is notable
that in the only one of Mr. Adams' plans that approaches nearly to the
old figure there is no connection between the "galleries" and the nest
cavity.
In some soils (like the Bunter Sandstone) Adams found that stones of
four ounces are turned out--that is, equal to the average weight of
an adult Mole. He also found that "the softer the soil, as a rule,
the nearer are the runs to the surface."
In his work "De la Taupe," de Vaux says: "The Mole places his
habitation in the most favourable spot in his cantonment; he studies
everything, and never does he make a mistake except under circumstances
which he has been unable to foresee, such as continuance of rains, a
flood; then he makes up his mind promptly, and establishes himself
elsewhere. It is by preference that he places his fortress in the
foundation of a wall, under a hedge, at the foot of a tree."
[Illustration: _Pl. 6._ _C 18._
*Mole making a new burrow.*
When alarmed above ground it dives rapidly into soft earth.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 7._ _C 19._
*In the Mole's Nursery.*
The young have wrinkled pink skin.]
Upon this Adams has the following comment:--
"With regard to a deliberate choice of 'the most favourable spot' after
a survey of the cantonment by a practically blind animal of the Mole's
impatient disposition and subterranean habits, there can be no question
as to its absurdity."
The male and female (Boar and Sow) appear to associate only temporarily,
the female being polyandrous and constructing her own nest-hill, which
is smaller and of more simple plan than the male's winter retreat and
seldom has a bolt-run. Her hunting tunnels are winding as compared with
the long straight runs of the male. The nest is a ball of leaves and
grass, all having to be carried in by the mouth. The chief pairing
season is at the end of March and beginning of April, and the young
are born about six weeks later. The number of young in a litter varies
from two to seven, the average is three or four. They are blind, naked
and pink, but before the fur has begun to appear the skin has darkened
to a bluish slate colour. The eyes open about the twenty-second day.
The Mole does not appear to be definitely hunted by any enemy--save
man!--although killed by Weasels, Herons, Owls, Fox, and Badger when
they come across him. Adams thinks that for all practical purposes the
Mole may be considered blind; that if its eyes were not covered by fur
the low position of its head would prevent it seeing beyond an inch or
so. He is convinced that worms are hunted by scent. The Mole is an
excellent swimmer, and can attain to a similar speed in the water to
that of the Water Vole.
The Mole does not hibernate: the demands of his appetite appear to
preclude the possibility of a long fast, even if dormant.
Old names, still extant in some districts, are Moldwarp, Moudiewarp,
Wunt, Want (in the "Epinal Glossary" of about A.D. 700, spelled Wand).
Its feet, carried in the pocket, are a rustic specific for rheumatism.
Though Adams refrained from eating adult Mole, warned as he tells us
by the dark flesh and musky odour, he experimented with a couple of
milk-fed young, ten days old, and had them boiled. Eaten without salt
or other condiment, he says he "found them excellent, much like Rabbit,
the flesh being white and very tender."
The Mole's position in human regard has always been equivocal. The
gamekeeper has accused him of sucking partridge's eggs, and the farmer
has pointed to his young wheat plants turned out of the ground as the
Mole ran a surface furrow across the cornfield. Against this in former
days the farmer would credit him with the wholesale destruction of
earthworms; nowadays, however, the farmer has more enlightened views
on the subject of earthworms, and their destruction must go into the
debit side of the account. But the Mole does not live on worms alone,
though chiefly: his runs must cross the track of many a grub--wireworm,
leather-jacket, and fat cockchafer-grub, for examples, and slugs and
snails on the surface--that the farmer would gladly have removed; and
it is not likely that the Mole pushes such fare from him untasted. Then,
again, one must remember the agricultural value of the little black
engineer who carries out so efficient a system of surface drainage,
and improves the pasture by bringing to the surface fresh soil from
below. There is, however, no mercy shown, no redeeming virtue admitted,
in the case of the Mole who sins against society by running his tunnels
under the tennis-lawn or golf-green, and spoiling their levels by
thrusting up his unsightly rubbish heaps. So enormous numbers are
killed yearly; and the Mole-catcher boasts of his great annual catches.
But the astute Mole-catcher refrains from destroying the nests, for
were he to do so his occupation would be gone. The Mole squeaks much
like a Bat or Shrew.
[Illustration: _Pl. 8._ _C 20._
*External view of Mole's Nursery.*
It is smaller and of simpler structure
than the so-called "fortress."]
[Illustration: _Pl. 9._ _C 21._
*Common Shrew.*
Sorex araneus.]
The Mole appears to be plentiful in all parts of England, Wales and
Scotland, wherever there are earthworms; it has been found even at
an elevation of 2,700 feet. But it does not occur in Ireland, the
Shetlands, Orkneys, Outer Hebrides, or the Isle of Man.
Colour variations have been recorded including cream, orange-pink,
whitish with markings nearly black, orange or yellowish, as well as
wholly grey, fawn or ash coloured.
*Common Shrew* (_Sorex araneus_, Linn.).
Along the hedgebank, the ditchside and the edge of the spinney in the
evening, may be seen one of the smallest and prettiest of our mammals, a
minute dusky red-brown creature with long flexible pointed snout turned
up ever and anon to reach an insect on the grass stems. Although he has
bright bead-like eyes his range of vision is very short, and if we keep
quiet and undemonstrative we can watch him without his being aware of
our presence.
This is the Common Shrew or Shrew-mouse, an inoffensive and useful
creature, for its food is restricted to insects, snails, woodlice and
the other small fry that annoy man without the latter being able to do
much in retaliation. As he sits there among the long-stalked trefoils
and nodding flowers of the wood-sorrel we are able to get a good view
of him.
With a combined length of head and body amounting only to three inches,
his long hairy tail adds nearly half as much again--but the tail length
varies a good deal in different individuals. His bilobed snout extends
far beyond his mouth, and is well furnished with whiskers. His hind
foot--a distinguishing feature in the Shrews--measures just over
half an inch. He is clad in a coat of soft, close, silky fur whose dark
upper part pales to dirty yellowish-grey beneath, and his hairy feet
and tail are flesh coloured. The dark coloration may vary to almost or
entirely black. The hairs on the tail are short and stiff, almost like
little spines. A gland on each flank, midway between elbow and thigh,
provides the disagreeable musky odour which is its sole protection
against enemies.
In winter he spends his time in hedgebottoms and copses among the dead
leaves, but not in sleep as stated often. In summer he moves out into
the fields and rough pastures, where there are tufts of coarse grass
in which he can take cover, and from which he makes runs through the
surrounding grass. Here he may be seen at times actually climbing the
stout grass stems after insects; sometimes he climbs a tree. His toes
are well separated, and this enables him to climb. Although the feet
are not well formed for digging he can burrow expeditiously in light
vegetable soil with the forefeet, and can bury himself in twelve
seconds; but, as a rule, he is more inclined to utilise the common
underground runs of Mice where these are available. The long, attenuated
and sensitive snout, like those of the Pig and Hedgehog, are well
adapted for turning over dead leaves and the surface soil in its search
for insects, worms, and snails; and its short, soft, velvety fur fits
it for passage through the soil without getting dirty. His movements
are not nearly so rapid as those of the Mice, and it is consequently
a better subject for observation. It is by no means an unusual sight
to see it swimming, and in accordance with this semi-aquatic habit,
it frequently makes its nest on the banks of ditches. The nursery is
a cup-shaped nest woven of dry grass and other herbage with a loose
roof beneath which the Shrew makes its entrances and exits. These are
frequently uncovered by the mowers at haying time.
The breeding season extends from May to November, and during this period
each female appears to have several litters, each consisting of from
four to eight or even ten--but usually five, six, or seven--young,
although she has only six nipples. Putting it at three litters of six as
an average--eighteen in a season--we get an enormous possible increase
of Shrew population. Yet the numbers observable from year to year are
fairly constant; and in considering the high birth-rate we have to allow
for the heavy bill of mortality. Though Shrew-flesh is not to the taste
of all carnivorous creatures, and its musky odour makes it actually
repellent to some, this does not in all cases protect the Shrew from
death. Cats, for example, kill many Shrews, but will not eat one. Dogs
also account for many Shrews, and will sometimes essay them as food,
though their stomachs refuse to deal with the unpleasant musky morsel.
From the latter part of summer onwards dead Shrews are quite common
objects of the countryside; and various theories have been set up
to explain the phenomenon, for these dead bodies are mostly without
any signs of maltreatment, either by tooth or claw. It has even been
attributed to an autumn epidemic afflicting Shrews alone; and to the
influence of fear caused by a thunder-clap or the mere breaking of a
twig near by. But apart from this mysterious mortality, Owls levy a
heavy toll upon the Shrew, as is evident from the indigestible "casts"
thrown up by these birds. Other birds of prey, such as the Kestrel, are
known to take their share, and a further considerable number are claimed
by Magpies, Jackdaws, Stoats, Vipers, and Smooth Snakes. Then, again,
numerous males fall victims to the jealous fury of their own sex, which
leads to fierce and fatal battles. But, as already stated, there are
seldom any indications of such encounters on the bodies of these autumn
dead, and the only conclusion that appears tenable is that they have
died from what a coroner's jury would term "natural causes."
Mr. Lionel Adams, who has made special investigations into this matter,
suggests that the natural cause is senile decay. He points out that
young Shrews moult before winter, the process beginning in September
and being completed by November, getting a darker and thicker coat than
the light brown one they have worn hitherto. The progress of the change
can be watched. It begins on the lower part of the back and extends
gradually to the neck, head and face. In spring this darker coat is
exchanged for a shorter and lighter one. _But in their second autumn
there is no resumption of the winter garb!_ The natural span of a
Shrew's life is fourteen months as the maximum; and Nature does not go
to the expense of winter clothing for creatures that will not live to
wear it.
So small a body as that of the Shrew does not appear to require much
food to keep it going; but the character of the food counts, and
apparently insects are not very sustaining. The insect-eater must
pursue his prey almost incessantly. We have proofs of this in the
ceaseless activity of insectivorous birds, the Mole, the Bats, and the
Hedgehog--all insectivorous. Mr. Adams found that, in captivity, a Shrew
would gorge for half an hour, then have to sleep for a similar period
before renewing its feeding with the same energy. In this case the food
was all provided and had not to be chased; and the Shrew was willing to
eat the flesh and pick the bones of one of its own kind. In thirty-six
hours it consumed food of various kinds equal to nearly four times its
own weight. If food is not obtainable for a few hours, the Shrew dies.
This excessive demand of the stomach causes the Shrew to be active both
night and day. It is fond of carrion, and has frequently fallen a victim
to traps baited with bread, cheese, nuts or apple; and, as Mr. Pocock
reports, with plum-pudding. He sleeps with the long flexible snout
tucked between the forelegs under the chest.
The Shrew's dental formula is i _4/2, c 1/0, p 2/1, m 3/3 = 32_. The
summits of the teeth are red-brown, and the almost horizontal lower
incisors are encircled by those of the upper jaw.
The Common Shrew is found throughout Great Britain but not in Ireland.
Its vertical range is from sea-level certainly to 1500 feet, at which
height it has been found in Cheshire by Coward and Oldham. It probably
goes higher in our mountain regions, for on the Continent it has been
recorded at 6000 feet. It is active all the winter among the dead leaves
in some thick hedgerow, where it searches for hibernating insects which
are plentiful in such covers. The rambler at this season may have his
attention called to the Shrew by its shrill squeak, but like that of the
Bats it does not impress all ears.
A form found in the Isle of Islay has been separated as a distinct
species under the name of _Sorex granti_.
It is strange that so inoffensive a creature should have been the
subject of superstitious malignity in the past. It was reputed to cause
lameness by merely running over the foot of man or beast, and as an
antidote a Shrew was plugged into a hole bored in an ash tree from which
thereafter a twig passed over the afflicted part would effect a cure.
Readers of Gilbert White will remember his description of the Shrew-ash
that formerly stood "at the south corner of the plestor" at Selborne.
The evil reputation of the Shrew was much more ancient than White's day,
for the Rev. Edward Topsell, who wrote a "Historie of Four-footed
Beastes" (1607), says of it--"It is a ravening beast, feigning itself
gentle and tame, but, being touched, it biteth deep and poysoneth
deadly. It beareth a cruel minde, desiring to hurt anything, neither
is there any creature that it loveth, or it loveth him, because it is
feared of all."
*Lesser Shrew* (_Sorex minutus_, Linn.).