2J,2 
NATURE NOTES. 
possible should be provided, with a small retiring box, in which should be placed 
some wool or dry moss, out of which “ Dor ” will make a very comfortable nest 
for himself. A number of perches and sticks should be placed in the cage for the 
diversion of the little captive, but those tread-mills, or wheels, as they are usually 
termed, which are so often attached to cages which are offered for sale in shops, 
should be studiously avoided. These are really cruel contrivances, throwing the 
poor creatures which are condemned to use them into a terrible state of alarm. 
Alfred H. Bastin. 
Brooks brought in a dormouse’s nest, a “ sleepmouse,” he called it (a more 
correct com'unation of names), which, while he was clipping shrubs, he found in 
a laurel bush a good way from the ground. It looked just like a bird’s nest, 
being small, round, and made of dried grass. There were only two young ones 
— without any parent — in it, as large as a very small house mouse, fast asleep, but 
quickly awakened, able to see, and one of them very alert. He put them, nest 
and all, in a cage, meaning to rear them ; one of them crept through the wires 
and was glad to be kept warm in my hand. Brooks finally decided that they 
were too young to rear, and to my very great satisfaction put the nest back into 
the bush. Returning a few minutes after, I found a bustle in the nest, and then 
perceived that the mother was climbing into the nest with her thick, furry, sandy 
tail hanging down. Presently she reissued, with a little one in her mouth, but it 
was rather large for carrying ; she let it drop through the bushes to the ground, 
where she was again seen trying to carry it. I did not see all her next manoeuvres, 
but it ended with her getting them both out of the nest — now reduced to a frag- 
ment — and we hope she has hidden them securely amidst the tree stumps and 
roots of the fernery close by. The last glimpse I had of her was a little after she 
was on the ground amongst the laurel bushes ; but she darted directly up a short 
chopped stem, and disappeared in the magical way a squirrel does. I go from 
time to time to the spot, but can see no sign of the new retreat. 
Taplow. L. Shore. 
Cats and Squirrels {N.N., 1893, 217 ; 1894, 198).— It has been asked 
whether a cat could tackle a squirrel ? I should say most certainly “ Yes.” The 
domestic cat, especially if running wild as they so often do in the country districts, 
is a most powerful animal for its size. The following incidents will, perhaps, 
prove that. An old male cat which once belonged to a relative of mine (one of 
the old-fashioned type of sportsman, not a member of the Selborne Society), 
attained .such a notoriety in the neighbourhood for strength and desperate courage 
that he was backed to resist the attacks of a vicious fox-terrier for ten minutes. 
The two were put into a pigstye together, and the battle began. From first to 
last the terrier was nowhere, and at the end of seven minutes was rescued by his 
owner, or he would have been killed by the cat. It will readily be understood 
what a small chance a squirrel would have in the clutches of such an enemy. 
And again, some two or three years ago I possessed two kestrels, both cock 
birds, which, although hand-reared from the nest, retained all their native wild- 
ness and ferocity, throwing themselves on their backs and fighting desperately with 
claws and beak on the slightest attempt being made to touch them. I was in the 
habit of letting them out of their cage for a run occasionally, as they both had a 
clipped wing, but actually one afternoon, while they were loose in the garden, 
I had turned my head away for a moment, but hearing a cry just looked up in time 
to see a neighbour’s cat disapipearing over the garden wall with one of the hawks in 
his mouth. I, of course, followed quickly enough to release the bird from his 
dangerous position before puss had time to kill him, and, strange to say, the bird 
did not appear to be injured in the slightest. These two instances are quite 
enough to show what a formidable adversary a cat is to both fur and feather, and 
I attribute much of the damage done to game to our, at times, innocent-looking 
friend, the domestic cat. X. 
Robins. — It is not uncommon for robins to become friendly in the winter, 
but this summer we have all been delighted by the wonderful tameness of two 
young ones. About June 14, three or four quite young birds appeared among the 
shrubs close to a summer-house and some acacia trees under which we sat every 
day, sometimes in quite a large party, working and reading. One bolder than the 
