NATURAL HISTORY. 



THE FLIGHT OF THE FLYING SQUIRREL. 



FREDERICK H. BELCHER. 



A SNAKE AND A RAT. 



W. H. GADDISS. 



Quite recently I have been furnished 

 with a key to a mystery regarding the fly- 

 ing squirrel, which has puzzled me for 

 more than 40 years. 



When I was a boy, I once brought home 

 a nest of flying squirrels, and having no 

 cage convenient, I put them temporarily 

 in an unoccupied room. For some time 

 they thrived, and became very tame; but 

 one day upon visiting the room I missed 

 my pets altogether. At last, however, I 

 found them in a bag of herbs that was 

 hanging against the wall on one side of the 

 room. 



The bag was higher than any other point 

 to which the squirrels could climb and 

 descend to it, and knowing well their mode 

 of sailing from one place to another, I was 

 puzzled to understand how they managed 

 to get to it. Now, after the lapse of so 

 many years, I have found an explanation 

 of the mystery. 



Along the sidewalk in front of my house, 

 in Irvington, N. Y., and about 40 feet away, 

 there are 3 large elm trees, under which 

 there is an incandescent light. Frequently, 

 while seated on the porch, during the warm 

 summer evenings, I have noticed what I 

 supposed were sparrows flitting from one 

 tree to another, attracted, as I thought, by 

 the light. Presently, however, I thought 

 they resembled flying squirrels, from the 

 way they would sometimes alight on the 

 trunk of a tree and then run up to the 

 branches. Yet I had never seen a flying 

 squirrel even attempt to fly by flapping its 

 (so-called) wings, like a bird. As a rule, 

 they sail from the top of one tree to the 

 base of another, perhaps 50 yards away, 

 using the membrane between their fore 

 and hind legs as a parachute. Now, how- 

 ever, I know they can and do fly up, a 

 short distance, in the same manner as a 

 bird. 



I tried to get near enough to see dis- 

 tinctly, but the little creatures would alight 

 in the shadow; and I could not tell, posi- 

 tively, what they were until finally I 

 brought my shot gun, and a friend killed 

 one, at the first shot. They were flying 

 squirrels! There must have been a dozen 

 of them flying among the trees. They 

 would sail down from some distant tree, 

 under the low-hanging branches of the 

 elms, and then, by quickly flapping their 

 wings, would raise and alight quite high on 

 the^ trunk or larger branches. Owing to 

 their nocturnal habits they are seldom seen 

 in their natural state by ordinary observers, 

 although as pets they are quite common. 



During a temporary residence in Florida, 

 last summer, 1 saw a most grewsome illus- 

 tration of the principle that in order that 

 life may exist life must be taken. One 

 evening as I sat in a cabin, on Cape Can- 

 averal, I heard a sudden rap beneath the 

 floor, and, almost simultaneously the 

 squealing of a rat, in distress. I wondered 

 what calamity had overtaken the rat and 

 peeped under the house, which stood on 

 blocks some 2 feet above the ground. 



Within 3 feet of me was a coach whip 

 snake, Flagelli formis, about 3^2 feet long, 

 with a large rat in his coils. He had coiled 

 twice around his victim, just in front of its 

 hind legs, and was holding it on its back in 

 a most helpless position. In throwing its 

 loops around the rat it left its head and 

 some 16 inches of its body free, which he 

 kept swaying about in graceful curves, now 

 and then bringing his head near that of the 

 rat, in a most affectionate way, as much as 

 to say, " I know it hurts old fellow, but 

 don't cry." 



The snake seemed in no hurry for his 

 victim to die. His movements, were delib- 

 erate, and he paid no attention to me, 

 though I stood in plain sight. I could see 

 the cruel coils slowly tighten. Gradually 

 the poor rat changed his pitiful cry to more 

 pitiful sobs. These lasted but a few sec- 

 onds when his muscles relaxed, his head 

 dropped back and he was dead. 



The snake grasped the rat by the throat, 

 and I could see the muscles of his neck 

 swell from the exertion of his grip. He 

 held on so long I thought he had cut the 

 jugular and was drawing out the blood; 

 but later discovered he was only making 

 sure that life was extinct. 



Knowing that snakes insist on swallow- 

 ing the whole carcass or none I was curious 

 to know what he would do with his present 

 victim. It seemed impossible for him to 

 swallow this rat, which was 3 times as 

 big as he was. The snake was of consider- 

 able length but was very slim. His neck 

 was not more than §4 of an inch thick and 

 his head was not over Y\ of an inch in 

 width, at the base. 



However, I soon found I had underesti- 

 mated the snake's power of gulping. When 

 ' he began to stretch his little narrow head 

 over the rat's nose I thought it one of the 

 greatest undertakings I had ever seen, and 

 made up my mind that if he succeeded I 

 would hereafter believe all the snake stories 

 I might hear. I took out my watch. It 

 wanted 10 minutes of 5. I brought out a 

 stool and the book I was reading, prepara- 



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