A WILY WEASEL. 



Wonderful stories are told of the agil- 

 ity and boldness of the weasel. Many of 

 them seemed to me, at one time, incred- 

 ible, but having had the experience with 

 one of these bloodthirsty little creatures 

 which I am about to relate, I am pre- 

 pared to believe many of the stories about 

 them which to most people, no doubt, 

 seem extravagant. 



One summer day I noticed one of our 

 common species (Putorius pusillus) run- 

 ning into a pile of large stones thrown 

 against a fence just at the point where I 

 was crossing at the time. In a moment 

 out popped his head, and, with piercing 

 eyes, he stared me in the face. I was 

 amazed at his impudence. Getting off the 

 fence, I stood on the stones. He would 

 come up just by my feet, sometimes 

 directly between them. I thought at first 

 I could easily set my foot on him, but 

 soon found that was impossible, for he 

 could vanish like a flash. Finally, with 

 my feet still on the stones, I leaned back 

 against the fence, when he actually placed 

 his fore feet on the toe of my boot and 

 stared at me as if he meant to challenge 

 me to hurt him, if I dared. 



While in this position a slight rustle 

 was heard in the leaves along the fence. 

 Instantly the w^easel started in that direc- 

 tion, and in a moment I saw he was in 

 pursuit of a ground squirrel or chip- 

 munk. The race was a short one. The 

 weasel was too swift for the poor squir- 

 rel, which in a few seconds fell a victim 

 to his thirst for blood. I ran to the res- 

 cue of the poor, struggling little creature, 

 and, after a hard chase, succeeded in 

 making the weasel drop it. I picked it 

 up and while I was watching its strug- 

 gles — for it was yet alive — I felt some- 

 thing touching my foot and, looking 



down, saw the weasel standing with his 

 front feet on my foot, his neck stretched 

 to its utmost looking up as if begging me 

 to give him back his game. The slight- 

 est motion on my part caused him to dart 

 away out of sight. There was consider- 

 able grass where I was standing, and 

 without my being able to see from what 

 direction he came^ he would suddenly 

 reappear right by my feet. This he did 

 again and again. Having a good stout 

 stick in my hand, it was held so as to be 

 directly over him when he would appear, 

 and only a few inches from him. Yet I 

 found myself quite unable to strike him, 

 so clever was he in dodging my strokes. 



As I became tired of standing and was 

 anxious to watch his movements further, 

 I lay down in the grass, with the dead 

 chipmunk lying in front of me and close 

 against me. The weasel was not long in 

 discovering the location of his much cov- 

 eted game. Again and again he would 

 approach tO' a point within easy reach 

 of my hand. But the very first movement 

 of a muscle on my part, almost before I 

 was conscious of it myself, seemed to be 

 detected by him, and quick as thought 

 he was away. At last, when I seemed to 

 have my hand within three or four inches 

 of him — ready to grasp him, if possible — 

 he" sprang forward, seized the chipmunk 

 and scampered off with almost the swift- 

 ness of lightning. 



I would like to have cultivated his 

 acquaintance further, for I could not but 

 admire him for his pluck and boldness, 

 as well afe for his agility. After such per- 

 sistence on his part, however, culminat- 

 ing in such a bold assault, I did not have 

 the heart to attempt to rob him again of 

 his prey. 



John C. McCracken. 



188 



