240 WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS. [CHAP. xxxi. 



used) become much attached to his master. When first caught, 

 their efforts to escape show a degree of strength and ingenuity 

 which is quite wonderful, digging and tearing at their prison 

 with the strength of a rhinoceros. When first imprisoned, if 

 looked at, he immediately rolls himself up into a ball and remains 

 quite motionless. As soon as the coast is clear again, he con- 

 tinues his attempts to escape ; but if unsuccessful, he soon becomes 

 contented in his confinement. I one day found a badger not 

 much hurt in a trap. Tying a rope to his hind leg, I drove him 

 home before me, as a man drives a pig, but with much less 

 trouble, for he made no attempts at escape, but trotted quietly 

 ahead, only occasionally showing a natural inclination to bolt off 

 the main path>whenever he passed any diverging road, all of 

 which were probably familiar haunts of the unlucky beast. 

 When at home I put him into a paved court, where I thought he 

 could not possibly escape. The next morning, however, he was 

 gone ; having displaced a stone that I thought him quite inca- 

 pable of moving, and then digging under the wall, he got away. 

 The badger always puts me in mind of a miniature bear, and 

 to this family he evidently belongs. His proportions are similar 

 to those of the bear ; his manner of placing his feet on the 

 ground is like that of a bear, and is very peculiar. Beyond the 

 marks of his toes, which, five in number, mark the ground in 

 nearly a straight line, are the impressions of his strong, sharp 

 nails, apparently unconnected with, and at the distance of an 

 inch or two from the rest of his track. These long and powerful 

 nails are a formidable weapon, and in engagements with dogs he 

 makes good use of them, inflicting fearful and sometimes fatal 

 wounds. Though a quiet animal, and generally speaking not 

 much given to wandering, I have occasionally fallen in with his 

 unmistakeable track miles from any burrow. His habits are 

 wholly nocturnal, and it is only in the summer evenings, when 

 the darkness lasts but a few hours, that he is ever met with 

 whilst it is light. During winter he not only keeps entirely 

 within his hole, but fills up the mouth of it to exclude the cold 

 and any troublesome visitor who might intrude on his slumbers. 

 Frequently, however, tempted by mild weather in the winter, he 

 comes out for some good purpose of his own either to enjoy 

 the fresh air or to add to his larder; but never does he venture 



