260 THE MOOR AND THE LOCH. 



ferocity, from the true cat of the mountains. I have seen no 

 less than thirty of these naturalised wild-cats trapped in a year 

 in a single preserve in the Highlands ; * some of them might 

 have been mistaken for the true breed. The colour in both 

 was pretty much alike, but there were other points which 

 clearly showed their domestic origin. They were, in fact, a 

 cross between the wild and the tame cat. I have seen many 

 of this kind stuffed in museums and collections, as fine speci- 

 mens of the wild-cat, and believed to be so even by those who 

 might have known better. 



The unerring marks of the thorough-bred species are, first, 

 the great size ; next, the colour, which does not vary as in the 

 domestic animal, but is always a dusky grey, brindled on the 

 belly and flanks with dingy brown hair long and rough, the 

 head exceedingly broad, ears short, tusks extremely large. An- 

 other very distinguishing point is the great length and power 

 of the limbs. It stands as high as a good-sized dog. But 

 perhaps the most unfailing mark of all is the tail, which is so 

 long and bushy as to strike the most careless observer. In 

 the males it is generally much shorter than in the females, 

 but even more remarkable, being almost as thick as a fox's 

 brush. 



The engraving is taken from the largest female that has 

 ever been killed in Dumbartonshire, and most correctly shows 

 the difference of its size from that of a full-grown house-cat. 

 It was trapped on the banks of Loch Lomond in the depth of 

 winter, having come down to the low ground in quest of prey. 



1 The mischief done to game even by the house-cat, especially if half starved 

 in the cottages of the poor, may be shown from the admission of a witness whose 

 evidence will not be doubted. A friend of mine had shot a large cat in a covert 

 adjoining the cottage of an old woman, and, being rather pleased at ridding the 

 preserve of such an enemy, was carrying it too ostentatiously past her door. She 

 banged out in a fury, demanding " how he daurd to kill the best cat in a' the 

 country ? " He replied that " wandering cats were never of much use for mice." 

 " Mice ! Wha's speaking o' mice, or rats aither ? There was scarcely a day she 

 didna bring in a young hare, or a rabbit, or a paitrick. Use / It wad be some- 

 thin' to be prood o' if thae ill-faured brutes o' dogs o' yours were half as usefu' ! ! " 



