CHAP, xxxi.] BADGERS. 237 



evidently used as receptacles for all offensive filth ; every other 

 part of their colony was perfectly clean/ A solitary badger's 

 hole, which I once had dug out, during the winter season, pre- 

 sented a curious picture of his domestic and military arrange- 

 ments a hard and long job it was for two men to achieve, the 

 passage here and there turned in a sharp angle round some pro- 

 jecting corners of rock, which he evidently make* use of when 

 attacked, as points of defence, making a stand at any of these 

 angles, where a dog could not scratch to enlarge the aperture, 

 and fighting from behind his stone buttress. After tracing out a 

 long winding passage, the workmen ramie to two branches in the 

 hole, each leading to good-sized chambers : in one of these was 

 stored a considerable quantity of dried grass, rolled up into balls 

 as large as a man's fist, and evidently intended for food ; in the 

 other chamber there was a bed of soft dry grass and leaves the 

 sole inhabitant was a peculiarly large old dog-badger. Besides 

 coarse grasses, their food consists of various roots ; amongst 

 others, I have frequently found about their hole the bulb of the 

 common wild blue hyacinth. Fruit of all kinds and esculent 

 vegetables form his repast, and I fear that he must plead guilty 

 to devouring any small animal that may come in his way, alive 

 or dead ; though, not being adapted for the chace, or even for 

 any very skilful strategy of war, I do not suppose that he can do 

 much in catching an unwounded bird or beast. Eggs are his 

 delight, and a partridge's nest with seventeen or eighteen eggs 

 must afford him a fine meal, particularly if he can surprise and 

 kill the hen-bird also; snails and worms which he finds above 

 ground during his nocturnal rambles are likewise included in 

 his bill of fare. I was one summer evening walking home 

 from fishing in Loch Ness, and having occasion to fasten up some 

 part of my tackle, and also expecting to meet my keeper, I sat 

 down on the shore of the loch. I remained some time, enjoying 

 the lovely prospect : the perfectly clear and unruffled loch lay 

 before me, reflecting the northern shore in its quiet water. The 

 opposite banks consisted, in some parts, of bright green sward, 

 sloping to the water's edge, and studded with some of the most 

 beautiful birch-trees in Scotland ; several of the trees spreading 

 out like the oak, and with their ragged and ancient-looking bark 

 resembling the cork-tree of Spain others drooping and weeping 



