Polecat.—Professor Alison, in his article on 'Instinct,' in Todd's 'Cyclopædia of Anatomy,' quotes the following account from the 'Magazine of Natural History' (vol. iv., p. 206) touching a remarkable instinct manifested by polecats. 'I dug out five young polecats, comfortably embedded in dry, withered grass; and in a side-hole, of proper dimensions for such a larder, I picked out forty large frogs and two toads, all alive, but merely capable of sprawling a little. On examination, I found that the whole number, toads and all, had been purposely and dexterously bitten through the brain.' The analogy of this instinct to that which has already been mentioned as having been much more recently observed by M. Fabre in the sphex insect is noteworthy.
Ferret.—I once kept a ferret as a domestic pet. He was a very large specimen, and my sister taught him a number of tricks, such as begging for food (which he did quite as well and patiently as any terrier), leaping over sticks, &c. He became a very affectionate animal, delighting much in being petted, and following like a dog when taken out for walk. He would, however, only follow those persons whom he well knew. That his memory was exceedingly good was shown by the fact that after an absence of many months, during which he was never required to beg, or to perform any of his tricks, he went through all his paces perfectly the first time that we again tried him.
I strongly suspect that ferrets dream, as I have frequently seen them when fast asleep moving their noses and twitching their claws as if in pursuit of rabbits. Another fact I may mention as bearing on the intelligence of these animals. On one occasion, while ferreting rabbits, I lost the ferret about a mile away from home. Some days afterwards the animal returned to his home. Similar cases have been communicated to me by several sporting friends, but certainly the return of a ferret under such circumstances is the exception, and not the rule.
Wolverine.—Amazing tales are told concerning the intelligence of this animal, which for the most part are certainly exaggerations. Still there is no doubt that the creature does display a degree of sagacious cunning unsurpassed, if not unequalled, in the animal kingdom. This may be shown by the two following quotations from the statements of trustworthy writers. The first is a letter kindly sent me by Dr. J. Rae, F.R.S., in reply to my request for information concerning the intelligence of this animal:—
The narratives of most travellers in America tell wonderful stories of the glutton or wolverine, but I do not know that any of my experiences of this extremely acute animal indicate what I call reasoning powers. They are very suspicious, and can seldom or never be taken with poisoned bait, trap, or gun. The poisoned baits are usually found broken up, but not eaten by them; traps are destroyed or entered, but not where the trapper desired; and guns, except when concealed after the Eskimo fashion by a covering of snow, are avoided.
In 1853, on the Arctic coast, when about to change our domicile from a tent to the warmer snow hut, my man had carried over about 100 lbs. or more of fine venison steaks to the snow houses about a quarter of a mile from our tents; and as there were at the time no traces either of foxes, wolves, or wolverines about, the meat was placed overnight in one of the huts, and the door left open. During the night two wolverines came, but, evidently dreading some trap or danger in the open door, would not enter that way, but cut a hole for themselves through the wall of the snow hut, and carried off all our fine steaks, a considerable quantity of which was picked up close to our house when the thaw took place in the spring, it having been hid in the snow, but completely spoilt for use, by a well-known filthy habit.
Dr. Rae has also drawn my attention to the following account contained in the Miscellaneous Publications of the Geological Survey of the United States.[208] The writer of this account is Captain Elliot Cones:—
To the trapper the wolverines are equally annoying. When they have discovered a line of marten traps they will never abandon the road, and must be killed before the trapping can be successfully carried on. Beginning at one end, they proceed from trap to trap along the whole line, pulling them successively to pieces, and taking out the baits from behind. When they can eat no more, they continue to steal the baits and câche them. If hungry they may devour two or three of the martens they find captured, the remainder being carried off and hidden in the snow at a considerable distance. The work of demolition goes on as fast as the traps can be renewed.
The propensity to steal and hide things is one of the strongest traits of the wolverine. To such an extent is it developed that the animal will often secrete articles of no possible use to itself. Besides the wanton destruction of marten traps, it will carry off the sticks and hide them at a distance, apparently in sheer malice. Mr. Ross, in the article above quoted, has given an amusing instance of the extreme of this propensity. The desire for accumulating property seems so deeply implanted in this animal, that, like tame ravens, it does not appear to care much what it steals so that it can exercise its favourite propensity to commit mischief. An instance occurred within my own knowledge, in which a hunter and his family having left their lodge unguarded during their absence, on their return found it completely gutted—the walls were there, but nothing else. Blankets, guns, kettles, axes, cans, knives, and all the other paraphernalia of a trapper's tent had vanished, and the tracks left by the beast showed who had been the thief. The family set to work, and by carefully following up all his paths recovered, with some trifling exceptions, the whole of the lost property.