Poachers and Poaching

by F.L.S. John Watson

In this country ferrets are kept more for work than as pets, and are used for making rabbits bolt from their burrows. To do this scarcely any training is necessary, and three young ferrets which we used the other day worked as well as their more experienced parents. There are various reasons why white ferrets are to be preferred as opposed to the brown polecat variety. They are usually more docile and pleasant to handle. A brown ferret is apt to be nipped up by a sharp dog in mistake for a rat or rabbit, while a white one is always apparent, even when moving amongst the densest herbage. This specially applies to night time, and hence poachers invariably use white ferrets. Gamekeepers who know their business prefer ferrets taken from poachers to any other. The poacher carefully selects his ferrets, and from the nature of his trade he cannot afford to work bad ones. Some ferrets cause rabbits to bolt rapidly, while others are slow. Sometimes a ferret will drive a rabbit to the end of a blind burrow, and after killing it will not return until it has gorged itself with blood; and more trouble is added if the ferret curls itself up for an after-dinner sleep. Then of course it has either to be left or dug out; if the former, it is well to bar every exit and to return with a dead rabbit when hunger has succeeded the gorged sleep. Ferreting is mostly practised in winter; and it is to guard against such occasions as these that working ferrets are generally muzzled. A cruel practice used to obtain of stitching together the lips of ferrets to prevent their worrying rabbits and then "laying up." But the most humane method of muzzling is with soft string; a muzzle constructed of which may be quite effective and at the same time not uncomfortable to wear. Care must be taken not to hurt the ferret, as if the string annoys him he will do nothing but endeavour to get it off. Occasionally ferrets are worked with a line attached; but this is an objectionable practice. There may be a root or stick in which the line may get entangled, when there will be digging, and no end of trouble in getting it out.

From what has been already said, and from the uncertainty of ferreting, it will be understood why the poacher can only afford to use the best animals. Of the many modes of taking the "coney," ferreting is the most common. Of course this is the poacher's method; but it varies little from that of the gamekeeper or the legitimate "sportsman." When the rabbits can be induced to bolt freely very good sport can be had; but in this respect they are most capricious. They bolt best on a windy day and before noon; after that they are sluggish, and often refuse to come out at all. As the rabbit "darts across a narrow ride like a little brown shadow, quick must be the eye and ready the hand that can get the gun to the shoulder and discharge it in the brief second that elapses between the appearance of a tiny brown nose on one side the path and the vanishing of a little snow-white patch of down on the other." Those that have ferreted much have probably seen strange revelations while indulging in the sport. A mound or brae sometimes seems to explode with rabbits, so wildly do they fly before their enemy. We have seen twenty rabbits driven from one set of holes. When the ferrets are running the burrows, stoats and weasels are occasionally driven out; and among other creatures unearthed we remember a brown owl, a stock-dove, and a shell-duck, all of which were breeding in the mounds.

To many persons ferrets are objectionable pets; but if properly kept they are among the cleanest of animals. Playful as kittens, they are harmless if properly handled, and much fondling tends to tame them. Ferrets not only soon get used to handling, but like it. They ought always to be seized boldly and without hesitation, for if the hold has to be adjusted a bite may be the result. And a bite from a ferret, especially to a person in bad health, is sometimes a serious matter. If a ferret is inclined to be vicious attract its attention with a glove in front, bringing the other hand down with a rapid sweep, grasping it firmly by the neck and shoulders. Food has much to do with temper, and confined under favourable conditions ferrets will be cleanly and sweet as in their natural habitat. They require to lie dry and have a roomy abode. Pine shavings are better than straw to bed them, and pine sawdust ought to be sprinkled about. The resinous matter in these acts as an antiseptic, and as a deterrent to vermin. Closely-confined ferrets become weak and tender, and are susceptible to cold. Bread and milk ought to be the prevailing food, with a good meal of flesh weekly. These combined will keep them in good condition and perfect health. The common diseases to which ferrets are liable are owing to unsuitable food and damp or dirty housing.

III.
OUR HERONRY.

The herons have just returned to the heronry after an absence of many months. At the end of September the old and young birds flew off together, and dispersed themselves over the low-lying mosses which margin the estuary of the river. Here they stayed during the winter, feeding but little in the bay, but making long flights either to the quiet tarns among the hills or to the neighbouring trout streams. Like the poacher, the heron pursues its silent trade by night, and loves the moonlit ones best. Now that the birds are breeding, their habit and daily routine are ordered quite otherwise than during the winter months. This year they returned to nest during the last week of March, and immediately sought out the trees in the most elevated part of the wood. By the middle of April but few nests remained unfinished, while the majority contained eggs. The trees selected for the huge burdens of sticks are oak, ash, elm, and silver firs; and the nests themselves are flat platforms with just the slightest depression for the pale green eggs. Close by the home of the herons is a rookery; and although it has not always been so, the two species now dwell together in perfect amity. Nests of the herons and of their sable companions are not unfrequently found in the same tree. Any threatened invasion of the two colonies of brooding birds produces a very different result on their respective denizens. The rooks get off their nests and circle, crying and cawing, until the disturber has vanished; the herons fly silently and straight away. During a stormy spring like the present[6] many of the eggs are blown from the nest and destroyed—a fate which often befalls the young herons themselves in autumn. Now that the birds are breeding it is easy to see by the aid of a binocular that they sit upon their nests with their legs under them, and not (as was once supposed) either pushed through the sticks or thrust behind them. In its domestic relations the heron is both amicable and honest. If a nest is blown down the birds go to work in the precincts of the rookery, but never touch the rooks' sticks. The heron's nest is a rude, wide-spreading platform constructed of beech-twigs, and not lined with wool as generally stated, but with the fine shoots of the larch. The appearance is that of a ringdove's nest on a large scale, and so open in texture that the sitting bird or eggs may be seen through the foundation. The heron breeds both early and late, and has often three or four broods in a season. At this time they are rarely seen fishing in the bay, and seem to prefer round fish upon which to feed their young, probably on account of the narrowness of gape and swallow. To obtain the requisite food the herons move off at evening to the quiet tarns and streams which abound in trout and eels. As the young birds come to maturity they are driven from the nest, and in a few days a new clutch of eggs is laid. The incubation of these is performed by both parents, one sitting during the day the other at night. As soon as young herons are able to look about them they have a habit of standing erect in the nest, and, not being very stable, are not unfrequently blown to the ground. If no harm befalls them, they are here fed by the old birds, though they never attempt to regain their lofty nests. Everywhere beneath the heronry there is an ancient and fish-like smell; and this by the warm days of summer becomes almost unbearable.

When nesting operations are over, they leave their summer haunt among the tall trees and make down to the bay and low-lying marshes. At this season the birds are gregarious, and their daily movements afford material for pleasant study. If the fishing ground in the channel is fruitful, sport goes on harmoniously; but if otherwise, chase is given to the successful fishers by the lesser black-backed gulls; these birds invariably cause the herons to drop their game, catching it as it falls. See, on a calm sunny day in September, the Stacy-Marks-like group waiting patiently in the channel for the flow. Some are erect, with heads settled gracefully over their backs; others are exposing their breasts and outspread wings to the autumnal sun; while some few, like geese, may be seen settled on their legs with necks elegantly arched. It is not less interesting to watch an individual fisher than a group when the retiring tide has left the channel. It wades cautiously with lowered head and out-stretched neck, each step being taken by a foot being drawn out of the water and as quietly replaced in advance. By gentle movements the heron is often enabled to strike and secure a flook at once. If a fish is missed, a sharp look-out is kept for its line of escape, and then a stealthy step is made in that direction. Should the distance be beyond reach of the bird's vision, a few flaps of the wings are tried in the eagerness of the pursuit. Sometimes a heron may be observed, when wading, to stand still suddenly, when no doubt its pectinated toe prevents the escape of a flat-fish or other victim.[7] A characteristic of flight may also be mentioned. When a heron rises from the ground the legs hang down, but as soon as it has acquired a settled flight they are extended backwards. These and the retracted head and neck adjust the equipoise of the body. The slow languid flaps of the wings would seem to indicate the heron as a slow-flying bird; but this impression is quite erroneous. If timed by a watch, it will be found that no fewer than two hundred and fifty separate wing movements are made per minute, counting the upward and downward strokes. The literary legacy as to the heron's varying altitude of flight foreboding fair weather or foul would seem to have no foundation in fact; at least, years of observation have yielded no indication of this. The altitude of flight is regulated according to the distance of the bird's fishing ground. If the place is near, the flight is slow and sluggish at only a few yards above the surface; if lower down the bay the flight is higher; while if to a distant spot, more vigorous and rapid wing-movements indicate the intention.

When fishing in a trout stream the heron stands looking more like a lump of drift-stuff caught in the bushes than an animate object. Gaunt, consumptive, and sentinel-like, the bird watches with breast depressed and poised upon one leg. Woe to the tiny trout or samlet that comes within reach of its formidable pike, for it is at once impaled and gulped down. This impalement is given with great force, and a wounded heron has been known to drive its bill right through a stout stick. Nothing from fry to mature fish comes amiss to the heron, and the young consume great quantities. Sometimes they gaff an individual which is difficult to dispose of. It is related that a heron was seen one evening going off to a piece of water to feed; the spot was visited next morning, when it was discovered that the bird had struck its beak through the head of an eel, and the eel thus held had coiled itself so tightly round the neck of the heron as to stop the bird's respiration, and both were found dead. An authoritative statement has been made to the effect that the heron's services in destroying pike, coarse fish, rats, and water-beetles may be set off against its depredations in trout streams; but from this we must dissent.

IV.
PLOVERS AND PLOVERS' EGGS.

In April and May thousands of plovers' eggs are annually sent to the London markets from all parts of the country. The gourmets' appreciation of this delicacy causes an ever-increasing demand, which, however rapid its growth, will always be met. For the green plover is one of the commonest of British birds, and is greatly on the increase. It flocks during the winter, and according to the severity or openness of the weather indulges in short local migrations from the plashy meadows and uplands to the sea-coast. Upon the approach of spring the flocks break up and resort to their breeding-grounds. These are usually at some elevation, and in the north the bird builds at an altitude of one thousand five hundred feet. Probably one of the reasons of the plover's great abundance is the readiness with which it adapts itself to local circumstance, and the clever manner in which it conforms to the environment in which it finds itself. For although a great many birds may be found breeding at a considerable elevation, numbers nest in the sea marshes, among the plough and upland fields, and along the marram-covered flats.

The lapwing is an early breeder, and eggs may often be found by the middle of March. It is these first captures which fetch such fancy prices in the market, and as much as fifteen shillings has been paid for a single egg. So anxious are the poulterers to obtain these, that one of them recently informed Mr. Howard Saunders that if he were assured of having the first ten eggs, he would not hesitate at giving five pounds for them. Of course, as the season advances the price rapidly decreases, and the normal price per dozen when the supply becomes general is about five shillings. As an instance of the difficulty which an untrained eye has in detecting the eggs of the green plover when in the nest, it may be mentioned that a person unaccustomed to birds'-nesting was sent up a furrow in which were six nests, each containing eggs, and these were to be collected. By the time that the end of the furrow was reached the collector had put his foot into one nest and had failed to find the other five. This is not always the case, however, and persons who study the habits of the plover experience but little difficulty in finding the nests. In fact, shepherds and others often walk straight up to them. They watch the movements of the parent bird, and know from the conformation of the ground to a yard where the nest will be. When you come upon a breeding haunt of green plovers, it will be noticed that many of the birds fly straight and silently away. When this is so it will be certain that the bird is the female and that it is sitting upon eggs. The bird does not rise immediately from the nest, but runs for a distance of some yards before it takes wing. If it allows a near approach, and rises low, the probability is that incubation is far advanced, and the eggs, of course, will not be worth taking. There are two ways, however, of determining this. Three or four eggs are the usual complement, and if there be fewer than three, or they are not warm to the hand, the bird has not begun to sit. Partly incubated eggs when placed in water float with their large end uppermost; if fresh they sink on their sides. The conduct of the male is very different from that of his mate. If a person approach the nest, he flies crying and calling overhead, and tries to lure the intruder from the vicinity. His peculiarly rounded wings beat the air, causing a loud humming sound which in France has given to the lapwing its name of vanneau, a fan. One characteristic of birds of the plover kind is that they lay from three to four eggs; and this holds good with the lapwing. These are so well known as not to need description; but there is one peculiarity which may be remarked. The eggs are beautifully pyriform in shape, and when the female leaves the nest deliberately it will be found that the smaller ends of the eggs are together, thereby taking up but little room in the nest. When the young are hatched they run about immediately, often with the shell upon their backs. Although they must remain upon the ground for two or three weeks, they are admirably protected by the assimilative colouring of their down, which renders them most difficult to detect.