RATS AND MICE. 365 



that they make use of dried mushrooms as sacks, in which 

 they convey their provisions to the river, and thence to 

 their homes.' l 



Before leaving the mice and rats I may say a few words 

 upon certain mouse- and rat-like animals which scarcely 

 require a separate section for their consideration. Of the 

 harvesting mouse Gilbert White says : 



One of their nests I procured this autumn, most artificially 

 plaited and composed of blades of wheat, perfectly round, and 

 about the size of a cricket-ball, with the aperture so ingeniously 

 closed that there was no discovering to what part it belonged. 

 It was so compact and well filled that it would roll across the 

 table without being discomposed, though it contained eight 

 little mice that were naked and blind. As the nest was per- 

 fectly full, how could the dam come at her litter respectively, so 

 as to administer a teat to each 1 Perhaps she opens different 

 places for that purpose, adjusting them again when the business 

 is over ; but she could not possibly be contained herself in the 

 ball with the young ones, which, moreover, would ba daily in- 

 creasing in size. This wonderful procreant cradle, an elegant 

 instance of the efforts of instinct, was found in a wheat- field, 

 suspended on the head of a thistle. 



Pallas has described the provident habits of the so- 

 called ' rat-hare ' (Lagomys\ which lays up a store of grass, 

 or rather hay, for winter consumption. These animals, 

 which occur in the Altai Mountains, live in holes or cre- 

 vices of rock. About the middle of the month of August 

 they collect grass, and spread it out to dry into hay. In 

 September they form heaps or stacks of the hay, which 

 may be as much as six feet high, and eight feet in diame- 

 ter. It is stored in their chosen hole or crevice, protected 

 from the rain. 



The following is quoted from Thompson's ' Passions of 

 Animals,' pp. 235-6 : 



The life of the harvester rat is di vided between eating and 

 fighting. It seems to have no other passion than that of rage, 

 which induces it to attack every animal that comes in its way, 

 without in the least attending to the superior strength of its 

 enemy. Ignorant of the art of saving itself by flight, rather 



1 Dr. Henderson, Journal of a Residence in Iceland in 1814 and 

 1815, vol. ii., p. 187. 



