240 WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS. [omar. xxxt. 
used) become much attached to his master. When first caught, 
their efforts to escape show a degree of strength and ingenuity 
which is quite wonderful, digging and tearing at their prison 
with the strength of a rhinoceros. When first imprisoned, if 
looked at, he immediately rolls himself up into a ball and remains 
quite motionless. As soon as the coast is clear again, he con- 
tinues his attempts to escape ; but if unsuccessful, he soon becomes 
contented in his confinement. I one day found a badger not 
much hurt in a trap. Tying a rope to his hind leg, I drove him 
home before me, as a uan drives a pig, but with much less 
trouble, for he made no attempts at escape, but trotted quietly 
ahead, only occasionally showing a natural inclination to bolt off 
the main path whenever he passed any diverging road, all of 
which were probably familiar haunts of the ‘unlucky beast. 
When at home I put him into a paved court, where I thought he 
could not possibly escape. The next morning, however, he was 
gone; having displaced a stone that I thought him quite inca- 
pable of moving, and then digging under the wall, he got away. 
The badger always puts me in mind of a miniature bear, and 
to this family he evidently belongs. His proportions are similar 
to those of the bear; his manner of placing his feet on the 
ground is like that of a bear, and is very peculiar. Beyond the 
marks of his toes, which, five in number, mark the ground in 
nearly a straight line, are the impressions of his strong, sharp 
nails, apparently unconnected with, and at the distance of an 
inch or two from the rest of his track. These long and powerful 
nails are a formidable weapon, and in engagements with dogs he 
makes good use of them, inflicting fearful and sometimes fatal 
wounds. Though a quiet animal, and generally speaking not 
much given to wandering, I have occasionally fallen in with his 
unmistakeable track miles from any burrow. His habits are 
wholly nocturnal, and it is only in the summer evenings, when 
the darkness lasts but a few hours, that he is ever met with 
whilst it is light. During winter he not only keeps entirely 
within his hole, but fills up the mouth of it to exclude the cold 
and any troublesome visitor who might intrude on his slumbers. 
Frequently, however, tempted by mild weather in the winter, he 
comes out for some good purpose of his own—either to enjoy 
the fresh air or to add to his larder; but never does he venture 
