NATURE'S HAPPY FAMILIES 
107 
credible, except to an eye-witness. Blue-rock pigeons, in default 
of cliffs or caves being available, not infrequently nest in rabbit 
holes; in the same manner as do puffins on the coast. 
Betwixt badgers, foxes and rabbits there would appear to be 
a sort of affinity. It is by no means an unusual occurrence to 
find them dwelling peaceably together in the same holes or 
burrows, each retaining its own division or chamber, that of 
the badger being known as an “ oven ” or “ butt.” An instance 
of the kind, near at hand, may now be found in Epping Forest, 
barely a mile west of the picturesque village of Theydon Bois.* 
There are, however, occasions when the harmony of these 
relations is disturbed. Badgers are not entirely free from the 
heinous crime, in a sporting sense, of vulpecide. When Madam 
Brock has a litter she is rather apt to vent her fury on any 
unfortunate fox cub that may cross her path. Sometimes there 
is reason for believing that the badger is wrongfully accused. 
The old fallacy that “ dog don’t eat dog ” — according to the 
literal meaning — has long since been exploded. Various animals 
now and again destroy their offspring, and the vixen is not 
altogether absent from the list. During prolonged severe 
weather and consequent famine, the rabbits in the immediate 
vicinity run the risk of having to pay the penalty, but in 
general escape scot free. They suffer, then, mainly from the 
foxes, as the badgers hibernate at such seasons, and even at 
ordinary times usually confine their attacks to young rabbits. 
The old doe rabbit, it will be remembered, nearly always 
breeds away from the burrows. To escape molestation by the 
bucks, she scratches out an isolated shallow hole or “ stop ” 
in the loose soil under the bushes in the woods, or among the 
furrows of the ploughed land, where, in solitude, she brings 
forth her young. 
The powerful claws of the badger enable it to construct an 
earth with comparative ease — a fact which the crafty but indolent 
fox is not slow in turning to account. Besides, the cleanly habits 
of the badger, from a sanitary point of view, render it a desirable 
comrade, which can scarcely be said of the fox. Indeed, if, in 
the temporary absence of a badger, a fox enters its “ oven,” the 
former shows a marked repugnance in re-occupying the place 
for days afterwards, until the scent has entirely disappeared, 
an antipathy akin to that displayed by the rabbit to the odour 
of the ferret. 
Burrows generally may be regarded as havens of refuge for 
living things. Wounded hares, pheasants or partridges creep 
into them to avoid marauders, or to die in peace. During the 
cruel frost in the early part of 1895, the writer came across a 
pathetic picture in Epping Forest : the stiffened bodies of three 
* A plate of this badger-earth appears in “The Mammals, Reptiles and 
Fishes of Essex,” by Dr. Henry Laver, recently published by the Essex Field 
Club. — E d. 
