THE TRAGEDIES OF THE NESTS. 93 



rested by the angry notes of a pair of brown-thrash- 

 ers that were flitting from bush to bush along an old 

 stone row in a remote field. Presently I saw what it 

 was that excited them three large red weasels, or 

 ermines coming along the stone wall, and leisurely and 

 half playfully exploring every tree that stood near it. 

 They had probably robbed the thrashers. They would 

 go up the trees with great ease, and glide serpent-like 

 out upon the main branches. When they descended 

 the tree they were unable to come straight down, like 

 a squirrel, but went around it spirally. How boldly 

 they thrust their heads out of the wall, and eyed me 

 and sniffed me, as I drew near, their round, thin 

 ears, their prominent, glistening, bead-like eyes, and 

 the curving, snake-like motions of the head and neck 

 being very-noticeable. They looked like blood-suckers 

 and egg-suckers. They suggested something extremely 

 remorseless and cruel. One could understand the 

 alarm of the rats when they discover one of these 

 fearless, subtle, and circumventing creatures thread- 

 ing their holes. To flee must be like trying to escape 

 death itself. I was one day standing in the woods 

 upon a flat stone, in what at certain seasons was the 

 bed of a stream, when one of these weasels came un- 

 dulating along and ran under the stone upon which I 

 was standing. As I remained motionless, he thrust 

 out his wedge-shaped head, and turned it back above 

 the stone as if half in mind to seize my foot ; then he 

 drew back, and presently went his way. These wea- 

 sels often hunt in packs like the British stoat. When 



