§ II Insectivorous, or Insect-eating Animals
This animal is something like a porcupine in miniature, and is covered all over with strong and sharp spines or prickles, which he erects when irritated. His common food consists of worms, slugs, and snails; and thus, far from being a noxious animal in a garden, he is a very useful one, as he feeds upon all the insects he can find. Hedgehogs inhabit most parts of Europe. Notwithstanding its formidable appearance, it is one of the most harmless animals in the world. While other creatures trust to their force, their cunning, or their swiftness, this quadruped, destitute of all, has but one expedient for safety, and from this alone it generally finds protection. The instant it perceives an enemy, it withdraws all its vulnerable parts, rolls itself into a ball, and presents nothing to view but a round mass of spines, impervious on every side. When the Hedgehog is thus rolled up, the cat, the weasel, the ferret, and the marten, after wounding themselves with the prickles, quickly decline the combat; and the dog himself generally spends his time in empty menaces rather than in effectual efforts, while the little animal waits patiently till its enemy, by retiring, affords an opportunity for retreat.
The female produces from two to four young ones at a birth. When first born they are blind, and their spines white and soft, but they become hard in a few days. The Hedgehog is said to suck the milk from cows; but this is impossible, as the mouth of the Hedgehog would not admit the teat of the cow. The Hedgehog, however, sometimes destroys eggs, and has been known to attack frogs, mice, and even toads, when pressed by hunger; it will also occasionally eat the tuberous roots of plants, boring under the root, so as to devour it, and yet leave the stem and leaves untouched. The Hedgehog makes himself a nest of leaves and soft wool for the winter, in the hollow trunk of an old tree, or in a hole in a rock or bank; and here, having coiled himself up, he passes the winter in one long unbroken sleep. Hedgehogs may easily be tamed, and are sometimes kept in the kitchens in London houses to destroy the black-beetles. The flesh of the Hedgehog is sometimes eaten; especially by gipsies, who appear to consider it a delicacy. It is said to be well-tasted, and to have abundance of yellow fat.
In times when insect food is scarce he will also regale himself upon apples and pears which have fallen from the trees, but a glance at the structure of the creature ought to be sufficient to convince any one that the charges often brought against him of climbing trees to detach the fruit which he is said afterwards to carry off by the ingenious expedient of throwing himself down upon it from the branches so as to attach it to his spines, are totally without foundation.
The Mole is a curious, awkwardly-shaped animal, with a long flexible snout, very small eyes, and hand-like fore feet, armed with very strong claws, with which it scrapes its way through the ground, when it is forming the subterranean passages in which it takes up its abode. The Mole, though it is supposed not to possess the advantage of sight, has the senses of hearing and feeling in great perfection; and its fur, which is short and thick, is set erect from its skin, so as not to impede its progress whether it goes forward or backwards along its runs. These runs are very curiously constructed: they cross each other at different points, but all lead to a nest in the centre, which the Mole makes his castle, or place of abode. The passages are made by the Mole in his search after the earth-worms and grubs, on which he lives; and the molehills are formed by the earth he scrapes out of his runs. These molehills do a great deal of mischief to grass lands, as they render the ground very difficult to mow; and on this account mole-catchers are employed to fix traps in the ground, so that when the mole is running through one of his passages, he passes through the trap, which instantly springs up out of the ground with the poor Mole in it. The female Mole makes her nest at a distance from the male’s castle. She has young only once a year, but she has four or five at a time.
The following curious fact respecting a Mole is related by Mr. Bruce. “In visiting the Loch of Clunie, I observed in it a small island, at the distance of a hundred and eighty yards from the land. Upon this island Lord Airlie, the proprietor, had a castle and small shrubbery. I observed frequently the appearance of fresh molehills; but for some time took it to be the water mouse, and one day I asked the gardener if it was so. He replied it was the Mole, and that he had caught one or two lately; but that five or six years ago he had caught two in traps, and for two years after this he had observed none. But about four years since, coming ashore one summer’s evening in the dusk, he and Lord Airlie’s butler saw, at a small distance upon the smooth water, an animal paddling to and not far distant from the island; they soon closed with the feeble passenger, and found it to be the Common Mole, led by a most astonishing instinct from the nearest point of land, (the castle-hill,) to take possession of this island. It was at this time, for about the space of two years, quite free from any subterraneous inhabitant; but the Mole has, for more than a year past, made its appearance again.”
The Mole is very pugnacious, and sometimes two of the males will fight furiously till one of them is killed.
This curious little animal closely resembles a mouse, except in its snout, which is long and pointed, to enable it to grub in the ground for its food, which consists of earthworms, and the grubs of beetles. The Shrew, like the mole, is very fond of fighting; and when two are seen together, they are generally engaged in a furious battle. Like the hedgehog, it has been much scandalized by false reports, as will be seen by the following extract from that most amusing and interesting work, White’s Selborne: “At the south corner of the area, near the church, there stood, about twenty years ago, a very old, grotesque, hollow pollard-ash, which for ages had been looked upon with no small veneration as a shrew-ash. Now a shrew-ash is an ash whose twigs and branches, when applied to the limbs of cattle, will immediately relieve the pains which a beast suffers from the running of a Shrew-mouse over the part affected; for it is supposed that a Shrew-mouse is of so baneful and deleterious a nature, that whenever it creeps over a beast, be it a horse, or cow, or sheep, the suffering animal is afflicted with cruel anguish, and threatened with the loss of the use of the limb. Against this accident, to which they were continually liable, our provident forefathers always kept a shrew-ash at hand, which, when once medicated, would maintain its virtue for ever. A shrew-ash was made thus:—into the body of the tree a deep hole was bored with an auger, and a poor devoted Shrew mouse was thrust in alive, and plugged in.” The cruelty of this, and many other practices of our ancestors, ought to make us thankful that we live in more enlightened days.
The body of the Shrew exhales a rank musky odour, which renders the animal so offensive to cats, that though they will readily kill them, they will not eat their flesh. This noisome odour probably gave rise to the notion that the Shrew-mouse is a venomous animal, and its bite dangerous to cattle, particularly horses. It is, however, neither venomous nor capable of biting, as its mouth is not sufficiently wide to seize the double thickness of the skin, which is absolutely necessary in order to bite.
The female Shrew makes her nest in a bank, or if on the ground, she covers it at the top, always entering on the side; and she has generally from five to seven young ones at a time.
The Water Shrew (Sorex fodiens,) is a beautiful little creature, with somewhat differently formed feet and tail, to enable it to paddle through the water, in which it dives and swims with great agility. When floating “on the calm surface of a quiet brook,” or diving after its food, its black velvety coat becomes silvered over with the innumerable bubbles of air that cover it when submerged; though when it rises again, the fur is observed to be perfectly dry, repelling the water as completely as the feathers of a water-fowl.