The weasel stands as the type of a large number of animals, such as the
marten, sable, polecat, otter, skunk, &c.; all being characterized by a
long body, short legs, and considerable energy of disposition. Some of
the species are celebrated for their abominable odor.
The weasel is an active, bloodthirsty little animal, not exceeding
seven inches in length from the nose to the tail. It is much about the
same size as a rat, though more slender; but it is a mortal enemy to
this animal, pursuing them to their holes, and killing them in great
numbers. It is also often fatal to the hare, as it will either creep
upon it when at rest, or, lying unseen amidst the rubbish or furze,
will spring at its throat; where, as in the case of other animals which
it kills, it fixes its bite, and then sucks the blood till its victim
expires. It makes a hole in the ends of eggs, and sucks the
contents--differently from the rat, which breaks the shell to pieces.
It is a destructive enemy to pigeons, as it creeps into the holes of a
dove-cot in the evening, and surprises its prey while they are asleep;
and, from the peculiar construction of its body, there are few
situations it is incapable of reaching; for it can clamber up an almost
perpendicular wall. When it sees a man, it endeavors as quickly as
possible to get out of the way, and hide itself amidst the grass or
loose stones; but if trodden on, or seized, it will turn and bite, like
a serpent. An ordinary dog does not wish to attack it, for it instantly
fastens itself on his lips.
_Miscellaneous Anecdotes._--Weasels seem to unite, in many cases, for
mutual defence, or the attack of man. In January, 1818, a laborer in
the parish of Glencairn, Dumfriesshire, was suddenly attacked by six
weasels, which rushed upon him from an old dike in the field where he
was at work. The man, alarmed at such a furious onset, instantly betook
himself to flight; but he soon found he was closely pursued. Although
he had about him a large horsewhip, with which he endeavored, by
several back-handed strokes, to stop them, yet, so eager was the
pursuit of the weasels, that he was on the point of being seized by the
throat, when he luckily noticed, at some distance, the fallen branch of
a tree, which he made for, and, hastily snatching it up, manfully
rallied upon his enemies, and had such success, that he killed three of
them, and put the remaining three to flight.
A similar case occurred some years ago at Gilmerton, near Edinburgh,
when a gentleman, observing a person leaping about in an extraordinary
manner, made up to him, and found him beset, and dreadfully bitten, by
about fifteen weasels, which continued their attack. Being both strong
persons, they succeeded in killing a number, and the rest escaped by
flying into the fissures of a neighboring rock. The account the person
gave of the commencement of the affray was, that, walking through the
park, he ran at a weasel which he saw, and made several attempts to
strike it, remaining between it and the rock to which its retreat lay.
The animal, being thus circumstanced, squeaked aloud, when an
instantaneous sortie was made by the colony, and an attack commenced.
The weasel is exceedingly difficult to tame. When kept in a cage, it
seems in a perpetual state of agitation, is terrified at the sight of
all who approach to look at it, and generally endeavors to hide itself
behind the straw, or other substances, which may be at the bottom of
its cage. Yet instances are not wanting to prove that the weasel may be
brought into complete subjection. Mademoiselle de Laistre, in a letter
on this subject, gives a very pleasing account of the education and
manners of a weasel which she took under her protection, and which
frequently ate from her hand, seemingly more delighted with this manner
of feeding than any other. "If I pour," says this lady, "some milk into
my hand, it will drink a good deal; but if I do not pay it this
compliment, it will scarcely take a drop. When satisfied, it generally
goes to sleep. My chamber is the place of its residence; and I have
found a method of dispelling its strong smell by perfumes. By day it
sleeps in a quilt, into which it gets by an unsewn place which it has
discovered on the edge; during the night, it is kept in a wired box or
cage, which it always enters with reluctance, and leaves with pleasure.
If it be set at liberty before my time of rising, after a thousand
little playful tricks, it gets into my bed, and goes to sleep on my
hand or on my bosom.
"If I am up first, it spends a full half hour in caressing me; playing
with my fingers like a little dog, jumping on my head and on my neck,
and running round on my arms and body with a lightness and elegance
which I never found in any other animal. If I present my hands at the
distance of three feet, it jumps into them without ever missing. It
shows a great deal of address and cunning in order to compass its ends,
and seems to disobey certain prohibitions merely through caprice.
During all its actions it seems solicitous to divert, and to be
noticed; looking, at every jump, and at every turn, to see whether it
be observed or not. If no notice be taken of its gambols, it ceases
them immediately, and betakes itself to sleep; and when awakened from
the soundest sleep, it instantly resumes its gayety, and frolics about
in as sprightly a manner as before. It never shows any ill-humor,
unless when confined, or teased too much; in which case it expresses
its displeasure by a sort of murmur very different from that which it
utters when pleased. In the midst of twenty people, this little animal
distinguishes my voice, seeks me out, and springs over every body to
come to me. His play with me is the most lovely and caressing; with his
two little paws he pats me on the chin, with an air and manner
expressive of delight. This, and a thousand other preferences, show
that his attachment is real.
"When he sees me dressed to go out, he will not leave me, and it is not
without some trouble that I can disengage myself from him. He then
hides himself behind a cabinet near the door, and jumps upon me, as I
pass, with so much celerity, that I often can scarcely perceive him. He
seems to resemble a squirrel in vivacity, agility, voice, and his
manner of murmuring. During the summer he squeaks and runs all the
night long; and since the commencement of the cold weather, I have not
observed this. Sometimes, when the sun shines while he is playing on
the bed, he turns and tumbles about, and murmurs for a while.
"From his delight in drinking milk out of my hand, into which I pour a
very little at a time, and his custom of sipping the little drops and
edges of the fluid, it seems probable that he drinks dew in the same
manner. He very seldom drinks water, and then only for the want of
milk; and with great caution, seeming only to refresh his tongue once
or twice, and to be even afraid of that fluid. During the hot weather,
it rained a good deal. I presented to him some rain water in a dish,
and endeavored to make him go into it, but could not succeed. I then
wetted a piece of linen cloth in it, and put it near him, when he
rolled upon it with extreme delight. One singularity in this charming
animal is his curiosity; it being impossible to open a drawer or box,
or even to look at a paper, but it will examine it also. If he gets
into any place where I am afraid to let him stay, I take a paper or a
book, and look attentively at it, when he immediately runs upon my
hand, and surveys, with an inquisitive air, whatever I happen to hold.
I must further observe, that he plays with a young cat and dog, both of
some size; getting about their necks and paws without their doing him
the least harm."
The following story regarding the weasel is told in Selkirkshire: "A
group of haymakers, while busy at their work on Chapelhope meadow, at
the upper end of St. Mary's Loch,--or rather of the Loch of the Lowes,
which is separated from it by a narrow neck of land,--saw an eagle
rising above the steep mountains that enclose the narrow valley. The
eagle himself was, indeed, no unusual sight; but there is something so
imposing and majestic in the flight of this noble bird, while he soars
upwards in spiral circles, that it fascinates the attention of most
people. But the spectators were soon aware of something peculiar in the
flight of the bird they were observing. He used his wings violently;
and the strokes were often repeated, as if he had been alarmed and
hurried by unusual agitation; and they noticed, at the same time, that
he wheeled in circles that seemed constantly decreasing, while his
ascent was proportionally rapid. The now idle haymakers drew together
in close consultation on the singular case, and continued to keep their
eyes on the seemingly distressed eagle, until he was nearly out of
sight, rising still higher and higher into the air. In a short while,
however, they were all convinced that he was again seeking the earth,
evidently not, as he ascended, in spiral curves; it was like something
falling, and with great rapidity. But, as he approached the ground,
they clearly saw he was tumbling in his fall like a shot bird; the
convulsive fluttering of his powerful wings stopping the descent but
very little, until he fell at a small distance from the men and boys of
the party, who had naturally run forward, highly excited by the strange
occurrence. A large black-tailed weasel or stoat ran from the body as
they came near; turned with the _nonchalance_ and impudence of the
tribe; stood up upon its hind legs; crossed its fore paws over its
nose, and surveyed its enemies a moment or two,--as they often do when
no dog is near,--and bounded into a saugh bush. The king of the air was
dead; and, what was more surprising, he was covered with his own blood;
and, upon further examination, they found his throat cut, and the
weasel has been suspected as the regicide unto this day."