THE HEDGEHOG 93 



reptiles, small quadrupeds, and even feathered creatures 

 when it can catch them. Fallen nuts and soft fruits are 

 readily eaten ; while in captivity it will not refuse soaked 

 bread, cooked vegetables, and flesh, raw or roasted. 



Though fond of eggs and milk, there is no truth in the 

 quite common belief that the Hedgehog helps itself to the 

 warm fluid direct from the teats of cows lying in the fields. 

 Equally fanciful is the statement that the animal climbs 

 trees, returning to the ground with its spoils impaled upon 

 the points of its spines. If in its nocturnal rambles it 

 should come across eggs in a ground nest, the Hedgehog 

 will make short work of them. Grasping an egg between 

 its forefeet, the animal makes a hole in the end of it just big 

 enough to permit the insertion of its tongue, and the 

 contents will be licked out without the slightest waste. 



The manner in which the Hedgehog attacks a viper is as 

 interesting as it is effective. Creeping quietly up to the 

 reptile, it seizes it by the tail with its teeth, and in a flash rolls 

 itself up into a ball. Lashing itself into a fury, the viper 

 makes terrific darts at its enemy, who simply holds on to 

 the tail, allowing the reptile to cut its head almost to pieces 

 against the remorseless spikes. When at length the viper is 

 overcome, the victor passes it gradually through its jaws, 

 cracking the bones till it is quite limp, and then, com- 

 mencing at the tail, proceeds to devour it. 



The Hedgehog has few natural enemies ; a dog, for 

 example, will think twice before testing the quality of the 

 spines after it has had one painful experience. The stoat 

 and the fox overcome it ; the latter, it is said, rolls the 

 prickly ball into water, which causes the Hedgehog to relax 

 its muscles to escape from drowning ; and that action is the 

 opportunity for which the artful fox is in readiness. 



It is an interesting fact that the Hedgehog pairs for life. 

 A nest of dead leaves and moss is made in a thicket, the 

 leaves woven into a thatch to keep out the spring showers. 

 The young ones, usually three or four in number, are not 

 only born blind, as is the case with many animals, but their 

 ears are closed, which is very unusual. The quills are white 

 and flexible, leading one almost to doubt whether the little 

 creatures are not young birds. 



