286 
THE WEASEL . 
neck as if watching for its prey, darted towards the spot, but just before it reached the nest it 
was anticipated by a crow, which seized the egg and bore it off in triumph. Desirous of inves- 
tigating the matter further, the proprietor of the plundered fowl would not remove her nest, 
but took up his station on the succeeding day, in order to see whether crow or W easel would 
return to the attack. No sooner had he arrived at his post than he saw the crow already 
perched on a neighboring tree, and in a very short time the Weasel made its appearance also. 
By degrees the two animals drew nearer to the hen’s nest, and as soon as her voice gave the 
' signal, they simultaneously started for the spoil. As before, the wings were more than a 
match for the legs, and the crow again bore off the prize. 
The Weasel has been seen to catch and to kill a bunting by creeping quietly towards a 
thistle on which the bird was perching, and then to leap suddenly upon it before it could use 
its wings. When it seizes an animal that is likely to make its escape, the Weasel flings its 
body over that of its victim, as if to prevent it from struggling. In single combat with a large 
and powerful rat, the Weasel has but little hope of success unless it should be able to attack 
from behind, as the long, chisel-edged teeth of the rat are terrible weapons against so small an 
animal as the W easel. The modes of attack employed by the two animals are of a different 
character, the rat making a succession of single bites, while the Weasel is accustomed to fasten 
its teeth in the head or neck of its opponent, and there to retain its hold until it has drained 
the blood of its victim. The fore-legs of the Weasel are of very great service in such a contest, 
for when it has fixed its teeth, it embraces its opponent firmly in its fore-limbs, and rolling 
over on its side, holds its antagonist in its unyielding grasp, which is never relaxed as long as 
a spark of life is left. 
In these mortal contests, the Weasel has a considerable advantage in its long and powerful 
neck, which can be twisted with a most snake-like ease, and which gives the possessor a very 
serpentine aspect on occasions. 
Like the polecat, and others of the same group of animals, the Weasel is most destructive 
in its nature, killing many more animals than it can devour, simply for the mere pleasure of 
killing. It is curious to notice how the savage mind, whether it belong to man or beast, 
actually revels in destruction, is maddened to absolute frenzy by the sight of blood, and is urged 
by a kind of fiery delirium to kill and to pour out the vital fluid. Soldiers in the heat of 
action have often declared that everything which they saw was charged with a blood-red hue, 
but that the details of the conflict had entirely passed from their minds. A single Weasel, urged 
by some such destructive spirit, has been known to make its way into a cage full of freshly- 
caught song-birds, and to destroy every single bird. The little assassin was discovered lying 
quite at its ease in a corner of the cage, surrounded with the dead bodies of its victims. The 
angry bird-catchers sought at once for a stone wherewith to avenge themselves of the 
destroyer, but before they could procure a weapon, the Weasel glided through one of the 
little holes through which the birds obtain access to the water, and was speedily concealed in 
a hedge beyond hope of discovery. 
Even such large animals as hares have been said to fall victims to the Weasel. But it 
must be borne in mind that in many parts the stoat goes by the title of Weasel, and under 
that name obtains the credit for many of the achievements which ought to have been attrib- 
uted to the rightful perpetrator. It is said to kill and eat moles, and this idea is strengthened 
by the fact that Weasels have more than once been captured in mole-traps. These unfortunate 
animals were evidently snared in the act of traversing the same passages as the mole, but 
whether their object was the slaughter of the original excavators is not clearly ascertained. 
The exceeding audacity of the Weasel has been already mentioned, and for proofs of this 
disposition the following anecdotes are cited. 
Two gentlemen were riding in the open country, one of whom dismonnted in order to 
inspect some cattle in a field, leaving his horse in the charge of his companion. Presently, a 
Weasel came out of the neighboring hedge, and fastened on the fetlock of one of the horses, 
grasping so firmly that it would not loosen its hold until it had been crushed under foot by 
the owner of the horse. Some little while ago, a party of Weasels were seized with an idea 
that they must prevent any one from passing near their habitation. A boy, who was obliged 
