142 WILD LIFE IN THE TREE TOPS 



we might be able to catch it — but the stoat avoided our clumsy efforts with the 

 greatest ease, and, jumping from the top of a tall bough, dropped like a piece 

 of wire to earth, and disappeared. 



And I have also seen a stoat sitting on the side of a thrush's nest in a small 

 elder-tree, and in spite of the clamoirr of a collection of the small birds of the 

 neighbourhood, calmly eating the young thrushes ! 



An intimate friend of mine, and a keen observer, who has had unusual 

 opportunities of studying the habits of stoats, tells me that he once came upon 

 one of them carrj^ng a yoimg one in her mouth, which she dropped when he 

 gave chase to her. Knowing the extraordinary devotion of the female stoat 

 to her young, he decided to wait to see if she would return to continue the 

 work in which she had been surprised. Having waited for three hours, he 

 decided to waste no more time, and as he rose to go, was on the point of pro- 

 ceeding homeward when he sighted the stoat going in the same direction as 

 when he had first seen her, and with yet another youngster in her mouth — 

 only this time she was making a detour across the middle of an open seven- 

 acre field ! And while he had been waiting she had doubtless moved other 

 members of the family in the same manner. 



On another occasion he discovered a thrush's nest in a hawthorn hedge 

 which contained the half-eaten remains of a young rabbit — clearly the work 

 of a stoat. A little further on was another thrush's nest beautifully lined with 

 rabbit's fur, in which no doubt the stoat basked on sunny days : yet a third 

 nest, also a thrush's, contained four eggs, which were covered with still further 

 remains of the stoat's work — in the shape of half a small rabbit. 



But perhaps his most extraordinary experience was when, attracted by 

 the frantic screams of a Green Woodpecker, he approached a tall elm-tree, 

 and saw a stoat climbing up to the Woodpecker's nesting-hole. He stood 

 motionless whilst the stoat reached and entered the hole. Presently it dis- 

 appeared inside, but soon reappeared again with one of the Woodpecker's 

 eggs in its mouth. This was dropped outside the hole, and of course 

 smashed on the way down. Again the stoat disappeared into the hole and again 

 appeared with another Woodpecker's egg. This time, however, he was greeted 

 by a charge of shot which effectually ended his career. 



On the same day that we discovered the young stoats in the duck's nest 

 we made another extraordinary discovery — that of a duck sitting on an old 

 Heron's nest. The Heron's nest was at the top of a fairly high oak-tree, and 

 contained a clutch of the Mallard's eggs. Unhappily, it was in an impossible 

 position to photograph, though I have always regretted not being able to 

 secure a pictorial record of such an unusual nesting-place.1 



I have altogether spent a good deal of time among the Herons, and so 

 have perhaps undergone more queer experiences in their company than else- 

 where. 



