Timidity of Marten 341 



regularly used, hole permits that reconnoitring of the 

 beyond, without which no beast of the weasel kind ever 

 breaks new ground. No matter how low the wall may be, 

 and in spite of the Marten's leaping powers, it will not be 

 jumped before that formal inspection has been made ; but 

 after that ceremony has been gone through, the top of the 

 wall may perhaps be used as the regular high road, as long 

 as it happens to run in the right direction. Timidity, and 

 excessive caution, are, in fact, the rules governing a Marten's 

 every action, without which it could hardly have survived 

 the relentless persecution that has for so long been its lot ; 

 but it is to be regretted that that cunning has not yet 

 warned it, and the other members of its tribe, that, in these 

 days of trapping, to go through the hole, is just about the 

 most dangerous course that could be pursued. There is 

 one piece of advice, which I would tender to anyone wishing 

 to study wild Martens as above described, and it is this : 

 take care in approaching the haunt, to do so from another 

 direction than that from which the animal is likely to come, 

 and avoid giving it your wind. If you doubt its olfactory 

 powers, just walk across the line which it will take, before 

 going into your ambush, and note the instant change that 

 will come over its movements when its nose warns it of the 

 recent presence of its worst enemy. 



And now to revert for a minute to the tracks in the 

 snow. I found, from actual measurements, that the average 

 " stride " of a Marten, when going at an ordinary canter, is 

 about three feet ; when the pace is increased, or especially 

 when bounding up a steep brae, five or six feet are com- 

 fortably covered ; while occasional jumps of up to ten feet 

 are not unusual. No stride longer than that was measured ; 

 but with no snow to impede its progress, I am quite prepared 

 to believe that the animal may sometimes exceed it. One, 

 which a very stormy December morning, with heavy snow, 

 had no doubt tempted to make an injudicious bivouac on 

 the broken bank of a stream down in the valley, and which 

 was hunted thence by a couple of collies, and a terrier, easily 

 outdistanced its pursuers up the steep hillside (it was very 

 steep, and uneven going), and averaged about seven feet at 



