Early one morning, when he was lying under a whin bush, about twenty yards from the foot of a sandy knoll, where there were plenty of rabbits’ holes, he was startled by hearing a loud tap-tapping almost close to where he lay! The streaks of day were just beginning to appear. Parting the bush gently aside, and looking through it, he observed a rabbit thud-thudding its hind feet upon the ground close to the mouth of another rabbit’s hole.
Edward continued to watch the rabbit. After he had finished his tapping at the first hole, he went along the hillock and began tap-tapping at another. He went on again. He would smell the ground about the hole first, and would sometimes pass without tapping. At last he got to a hole where his progress was stopped. After he had given only two or three thuds, out rushed a full-grown rabbit, and flew at the disturber of the peace. He rushed at him with such fury that they both rolled headlong down hill, until they reached the bottom.
A RABBIT-FIGHT.
There they had a rare set-to—a regular rabbit-fight. Rabbits are fools at fighting. Their object seems to be to leap over each other, and to kick the back of their enemy’s head as they fly over; each trying to jump the highest, and to kick the hardest. It is a matter of jumping and kicking. Yet rabbits have an immense power in their hinder feet. They often knock each other down by this method of fighting. They also occasionally fight like rams—knocking their heads hard together. Then they reel and tumble, until they recover, and are at it again, until one or the other succumbs.
Edward is of opinion that the method pursued by the male rabbits, of tapping in front of their neighbours’ holes, is to attract the attention of the females. When the male comes out, instead of the female, a fight occurs, such as that above described. At other times, the rabbit that taps is joined by other rabbits from the holes, and a friendly conference takes place. But, besides this loud beating with their heels, the rabbits possess another method of communicating with their fellows. They produce a sound like tap-pat! which is the sign of danger. Edward often saw numbers of them frisking and gambling merrily about the mouths of their burrows, but when the sound of tap-pat was heard, the whole of the rabbits, young and old, rushed immediately to their holes.
THE FOX.
Amongst the true night-roamers are the fox, the otter, the badger, the polecat, the stoat, the weasel, the hedgehog, the rat, and almost the whole family of mice. These are, for the most part, nocturnal in their habits. No matter how dark or tempestuous the night, they are constantly prowling about. Even at the sea-shore,—the otter, the weasel, and the mice, often paid Edward a visit. When on the hills or moors, he often saw the weasel, and sometimes the fox; but the fields and the sides of woods were the places where they were most frequently met with. All these animals, like the deer and hare, have their peculiar and individual calls, which they utter at night.
Thus the Fox may be known by his bark, which resembles that of a poodle dog, with a little of the yelp in it; and he repeats this at intervals varying from about six to eighteen minutes between each. When suddenly surprised, the fox gives vent to a sharp harsh-like growl, and shows and snaps his teeth. “I once,” says Edward, “put my walking-staff into the mouth of a fox just roused from his lair—for foxes do not always live in holes—to see how the fellow would act. He worried the stick and took it away with him. I have, on three different occasions, come upon two foxes occupying the same lair at the same time—twice on the cliffs by the sea, and once among the bushes in an old and disused quarry. In one instance I came upon them in mid-winter, and in the other two cases during summer.”
CRIES OF NIGHT-ROAMERS.
The Badger utters a kind of snarling grunt. This is done in quick succession. Then he is silent for a short time, and again he begins in the same strain. The Otter, and most of the other night-roamers, have a sort of squeak, which they utter occasionally. But though there is a difference between them, which Edward could distinguish, it is very difficult to describe it in words. Their screams, however, differ widely from their ordinary call. The scream is the result of alarm or pain, perhaps of a sudden wound; the call is their nightly greeting when they hold friendly converse with each other; but the difference in the screams can only be learnt by the ear, and can scarcely be described by words.