52 THE CANADIAN NATURALIST. [Feb. 



separated localities. Up to this point, I had proved that both 

 holes and lodges were occupied in July, and the rats inhabiting 

 them differed in several distinctive characters always constant, 

 though extended over a series of specimens, from remote and 

 proximate districts. 



The fur clothing of the two species (as I now venture to call 

 them) seemed to my mind designedly coloured to facilitate 

 concealment. The mud-rat's reddish, rusty-brown suit, closely 

 resembled the furruginous tint peculiar to the gravelly soils pre- 

 vailing in the north-west, and its habit is, when frightened, to 

 dive, or if under water, to at once descend to the bottom, there to 

 stir up the mud with all its might. In a second, the course of 

 the fugitive is traceable only by clouds of mud rolled up into the 

 water, like smoke into the air. Thus hid, escape is easy. 



In clear water, too, small roadways are distinctly visible in 

 every direction, threading the bottom of the stream like the lines 

 on a map of railways, trails through which they travel to the 

 different landings and doorways. 



The rush-rat's black jacket is equally in keeping with the still 

 dark water in which it swims, builds, and enjoys life ; or the 

 sombre stalks amidst which it rambles and feeds. I know no 

 prettier sight than that of watching a musk-rat village. As the 

 shadows lengthen, and the mingled sounds of day die imperceptibly 

 away, and — save the whisper of the breeze as it rattles the tall 

 rushes, the muffled cry of the owl soaring over the marsh, the 

 1 quack ' and ' whistle ' of the bald-pate (Mareca amer), sure 

 herald of coming night, and the throb of invisible wings — no 

 sounds are audible. In this quiet eventide, the entire rat popu- 

 lation steal out to swim, flirt, quarrel, or feast, as the custom is in 

 musquash society. So like are the swimmers to dark sticks float- 

 ing on the surface, that save the tiny wake made as they paddle 

 on, the keenest eye can hardly detect the difference. The slightest 

 noise indicative of danger, plunging sounds over the pool as though 

 a heap of stones hurled into the air, were falling into the water 

 like rain-drops, warns one the revellers are gone. They soon, 

 however, reappear, some to sit on the domes of their houses in the 

 position of begging dogs, holding between their fore-feet a dainty 

 on which to sup ; others to swim ashore, and forage amidst the 

 rushes and sedge-plants, perhaps to be pounced on by the mousing- 

 owl ; whilst the remainder seem to have no definite occupation, 

 but swim or dive for sheer enjoyment. I can recal many long 



