258 Animal Life 
erubbing after these, and the starchy roots of plants, he turns over sheet after sheet 
of moss, to dry in the sun and make “badgers’ hay,” from which he carries as much 
as will make his winter home snug. 
The “earth” is, if need be, in the depth of shade: by preference, on some wooded 
slope facing the sun. Here he seems to dwell, mainly in colonies, whose lmits may 
in some cases be set by the nature of the surrounding soil and the difficulties im the 
way of further extension. Lord Rosebery brought some badgers from his estate im 
Buckinghamshire and tured them out in the Dalmeny Woods, near Edinburgh. 
They increased to some twenty individuals, after which the younger members went off 
to set up for themselves. Some seem to have gone far afield, and helped to restock 
the district for many miles around; at least, every badger that turned up where no 
badger had been before was traced back to the Dalmeny colony. A few took possession 
of some foxes’ earths not far away from home; badgers are in the habit of thus 
dropping im at an open door. 
The lowland fox returns the visit. He is notoriously averse to digging for 
himself if he can at all avoid it. An old drain, or other opening in the soil, or cleft 
in the rock—anything will do. A rabbit’s hole is at least a beginning, and a badger’s 
earth is better than all. It is more 
comfortable than a drain, and less trouble 
than a rabbit’s hole. It is just the proper 
size, and might have been made for him. 
In addition to the mere convenience there 
may be a certain natural affinity. The 
two seem to arrange the matter quite 
amicably. When the sharp nose appears 
at the opening the mmate grunts and 
makes room, as if he knew he must come 
sooner or later, and was on the outlook. 
He will even dig further back, that the 
guest may be more comfortable. There 
is no rivalry to cause friction; the two 
5 ta eye a 
Photograph by Ottomar Anschutz, Berlin. do not cross each other’s path. That 
EUROPEAN BADGER. there is a little benefit to the host is 
probable. Anyone who has seen a fox’s 
hole will remember the débris of fur and feather round the opening. And the badger 
may well owe a meal to sharper wits and longer legs and further raids than his own. 
So Reynard may pay for his quarters. 
In the Highlands the badger has not been followed by the relentless persecution 
that has played such havoc with the wild cat and the marten. He is not included 
among the active enemies of game, to be got rid of by every means. If met with he 
is probably knocked over to keep the shooter’s hand in, or because he is too big and 
tempting an object to let pass by the muzzle of a gun; but the meetings so seldom 
take place that they do not count for much. Perhaps he is the only wild mammal 
of anything near the size that enjoys the happy medium between persecution and 
protection. He may get into traps set for something else; but the traps must first 
of all come to him, and, as his is a secluded way, lying pretty near home, he generally 
manages to escape such risks. And should he by any chance blunder into the 
neighbourhood of traps, and the bait should lead him into temptation, he has a happy 
knack, unknown to the wild cat and the marten, of getting what he wants and 
keeping his foot out. And so it happens that keepers among the Grampians and 
further north tell you, as a matter which does not concern their efficiency as game 
