7 oo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



view, and they are gone. When waiting in a dry ditch with a gun 

 on a warm autumn afternoon for a rabbit to come out, sometimes a 

 bunny will suddenly appear at the mouth of a hole which your knee 

 nearly touches. He stops dead, as if petrified with astonishment, sit- 

 ting on his haunches. His full dark eye is on you with a gaze of in- 

 tense curiosity ; his nostrils work as if sniffing ; his whiskers move ; 

 and every now and then he thumps with his hind-legs upon the earth 

 with a low, dull thud. This is evidently a sign of great alarm, at the 

 noise of which any other rabbit within hearing instantly disappears 

 in the " bury." Yet there your friend sits and watches you as if 

 spellbound, so long as you have the patience to move neither hand 

 nor foot nor to turn your eye. Keep your glance on the frond of the 

 fern just beyond him, and he will stay. The instant your eye meets 

 his, or a finger stirs, he plunges out of sight. It is so also with birds. 

 Walk across a meadow, swinging a stick, even humming, and the 

 rooks calmly continue their search for grubs within thirty yards ; 

 stop to look at them, and they rise on the wing directly. So, too, 

 the finches in the trees by the road-side. Let the wayfarer pass be- 

 neath the bough on which they are singing, and they will sing on, if 

 he moves without apparent interest; should he pause to listen, their 

 wings glisten in the sun as they fly. 



Stoats, though not so numerous as weasels, probably do quite as 

 much injury, being larger, swifter, stronger, and very bold, sometimes 

 entering sheds close to dwelling-houses. The laboring-people at least, 

 the elder folk declare that they have been known to suck the blood of 

 infants left asleep in the cradle upon the floor, biting the child behind 

 the ear. They hunt in couples also seldom in larger numbers. We 

 have seen three at work together, and with a single shot killed two 

 out of the trio. In elegance of shape they surpass the weasel, and 

 the color is brighter. Their range of destruction seems only limited 

 by their strength ; they attack anything they can manage. 



The keeper looks upon weasel and stoat as bitter foes, to be ruth- 

 lessly exterminated with shot and gin. He lays to their charge 

 deadly crimesof murder, the death of rabbits, hares, birds, the theft 

 and destruction of his young broods, even occasional abstraction of a 

 chicken close to his very door, despite the dogs chained there. They 

 are not easily shot, being quick to take shelter at the sight of a dog, 

 and, when hard hit with the pellets, frequently escaping, though per- 

 haps to die. Both weasel and stoat, and especially the latter, will 

 snap viciously at the dog that overtakes them, even when sore 

 wounded, always aiming to fix their teeth in his nose, and fighting 

 savagely to the last gasp. The keeper slays a wonderful number in 

 the course of a year, yet they seem as plentiful as ever. He traps 

 perhaps more than he shoots. It is not always safe to touch a stoat 

 caught in a trap ; he lies apparently dead, but lift him up, and in- 

 stantly his teeth are in your hand, and it is said such wounds some- 



