I50 THE BOOK OF THE ANIMAL KINGDOM 



trapped because of their fondness for young Pheasants. I remember 

 being in a wood very early one Spring morning, long before the 

 keeper had made the round of his traps set overnight, and my 

 experience then was of such a distasteful kind that I made a vow 

 never to be out and about before a keeper again. As I approached 

 the snug little wood in which I have spent many pleasant and, I 

 hope, profitable hours animal stalking and bird watching, I heard 

 heartrending screams as of many wild animals evidently in great 

 distress. The noise, I felt convinced, was not the squeal of a Rabbit 

 in a trap, and in the quietude of the morning air I was considerably 

 perturbed at such an unusual occurrence. Diving into the heart of 

 the woodland fastness I hardly knew which way to go first, for I 

 distinctly heard loud unearthly screams coming from several parts 

 of the wood. Whilst I was thus meditating, I was suddenly sur- 

 prised by an animal half springing at me, for I had unconsciously 

 almost trodden upon a large black and white domestic Cat caught 

 in the clutches of a heavily-toothed trap. Never as long as I live 

 shall I forget the sickening scene ; I can still bring vividly to mind 

 the fierce maniacal expression of the Cat's face; the bulging, fiery 

 eyes, agitated form and wild, uncanny look. A strong chain held 

 the trap fast, and this in turn was firmly riveted to the ground. 

 The Cat had dragged the chain to its extreme length, and had it not 

 been for the weight of trap and chain combined, I guess the con- 

 sequences would have been far more serious for me than they were. 

 To approach the furious beast so as either to release it or kill it was 

 out of the question, and I passed on, obtaining some relief from 

 the love-songs of migrating birds just arrived from over-sea, and 

 countless blossoms of pale dew-spattered primroses which were 

 kissing the first sunbeams. 



More screams penetrated the woodland fastness, and a hurried 

 exploration in the direction from which they proceeded revealed two 

 more traps, both containing domestic Cats. One of these was a 

 large creature, marked very much like the true wild species, and I 

 have been led to give an account of this little experience because an 

 ordinary observer seeing this Wild Cat-like specimen might easily 

 have concluded that a wild, not a domestic, beast had been trapped. 

 The third captive was a big sandy Cat, and I have noticed many 

 times that sandy-coloured Cats seem especially fond of poaching, 

 especially around farmyards. 



The Wild Cat, then, is in Great Britain to-day restricted to the 



