90 THE WEASEL AND THE STOAT (THE ERMINE). 



and the hedgerows to congregate in immense num- 

 bers about warm outhouses and in man's dwellings, 

 so that a visit to these habitations is well worth the 

 weasel's time. Birds, particularly partridges, form 

 a habit at such seasons of huddling together in 

 little groups, out in the open fields, and the hunter, 

 locating them, has nothing to do but run under 

 the snow till he is directly below ; then, breaking 

 surface suddenly in their midst, he is sure of a kill. 

 In the same way he hunts larks out in the open, 

 dragging them down from below, just as a fly is 

 snatched from the surface of a pool by the trout 

 lurking in the depths. Thus he is now independent 

 of the mice-runs and the mole-runs in catching his 

 quarry, and heavy is the toll he takes of field and 

 game covert at such times. 



It is only when there lies a thin tracking snow, 

 and the ground is bone-hard with frost, that hunger 

 is apt to fall upon the weasel population; and 

 should such conditions last, they gather into packs, 

 after the manner of wolves, and work the country 

 systematically for game. But they are not the 

 only sufferers at these times ; in the hedgerows 

 scores of small birds perish by hunger and cold. 

 Daybreak finds them still seated among the 

 branches, just as they were when the twilight 

 shadows closed upon them ; or, perhaps, hanging 

 by one toe to the undergrowth, to fall with the 

 first gust of wind into the kindly shadows which 

 have so long befriended them. Stoats particularly 

 hunt the hedges for such pathetic tokens of the 

 Hunger Moon, and it is to be feared that not 

 only the dead go to fill their hungry maws. At 

 night-time they hunt the hedges silently for roost- 

 ing birds, climbing high among the branches, and 

 surprising the birds where they sit ; for stoats, 



