MEMORIES OF A CHESHIRE MOOR 95 



them quietly sunning themselves we grabbed, but usually 

 either missed them or only gripped the far too fragile tail. 

 Then, as the late owner thankfully escaped amidst the 

 tangled stems, we held the violently wagging caudal 

 appendage in our fingers, watching the reflex struggles 

 grow weaker and weaker. Vipers occurred, but we 

 refrained from familiarities, though we treasured the cast 

 sloughs when we found them. 



Almost in the centre of the Moss was a pole-trap, cruel, 

 but legal forty years ago, and near by, on some stunted 

 birches, the keeper hung his " vermin " ; when we were 

 sure that the coast was clear we also visited the trap and 

 gibbet. To the top of this solitary post, a tempting perch 

 for any passing hawk, was chained an unbaited circular 

 tooth- trap; many an innocent victim alighted for a rest 

 and remained, hanging in agony, until the keeper chose 

 to make his rounds. We found the mangled corpses 

 of nightjar and cuckoo, even of thrushes and titlarks, on 

 or near the fatal trap, but we were better pleased when we 

 could recover the fairly fresh body of a kestrel or merlin 

 for examination or efforts at the taxidermal art. That 

 arch-robber, the carrion crow, avoided the fatal pole, but 

 we found and annexed one which the keeper had nailed 

 to a tree. Probably the marsh harrier formerly nested 

 >n the Moss, as it did on many of the wilder moors; about 

 this time a young bird, perhaps visiting the home of its 

 ancestors, was shot as it quartered the moor. Short- 

 eared owls nested regularly, but in that wilderness of 

 overgrown ling were hard to discover; we longed for but 

 never found the nest. 



1894 



In the previous spring the short- eared owls nested, 

 probably for the last time, and a young bird was shot in the 

 autumn. Carrington Moss was in transition; the last 



14 



