128 MAY 



rod three exceptionally powerful steel-toothed traps, 

 grim and pernicious implements wherever they are found. 

 In one of these struggled a cub, surprisingly well-grown 

 for the date. She was caught by the hind foot and had 

 pulled the trap to the full length of the chain so that she 

 was able to lie well within the cover of the earth. 



It was not easy to release the unhappy victim. The 

 spring of the trap was too strong for the fingers ; and 

 the mud below the trap was soft with heavy rains. The 

 cub showed the invincible pluck of its race, bared its 

 teeth, and even tried to turn back and snap at the hands 

 fumbling with the trap. I have seen a much older cub 

 thrust its head out of an earth and bite the spade of the 

 labourer who was digging it out. On this occasion it 

 bit furiously into a coat thrown over it to make easier the 

 work of relief. At clumsy last the steel teeth were 

 opened, and the cub, pulling out the damaged leg, 

 collapsed in a heap in the mouth of the earth. The rest 

 lasted only some thirty seconds. After one quick, alert 

 glance backwards at the relieving party, it slipped down 

 die earth to the nursery below. The next morning two 

 children went back to look for any signs of the litter. 

 The vixen came out, and barked at them with such inten 

 tion that the youngest bolted incontinent and rolled 

 down the bank. After all, there is no courage equal to 

 the maternal in any animal. A rabbit will attack a stoat, 

 a hedge sparrow an adder, and a moorhen a boy to 

 quote examples from my own personal experience and 

 a vken anything in the world. 



The essential brutality of the toothed trap needs no 

 emphasis. All along the West Coast dogs, cats, foxes, 

 badgers, pheasants, and other birds, even occasionally 

 gra2ing cows, are hurt, maimed, or killed by the villainous 

 device. It is the venomous snake of many an Eden. For 



