When we consider the structure of the Mole, and its perfect adaptation to its mode of life, we may agree with Mr. Bell in the belief that although superficial observers may regard it as a miserable creature, such a notion is an absolute mistake. It is true that the Mole, like so many of our own race, is condemned to almost perpetual exertion; but in the case of human beings we find that physical exertion at any rate is of itself so little of an absolute evil that many of our favourite amusements involve no small amount of it, and moral writers are rather fond of dwelling on the pleasure of earning one’s dinner before eating it. Now this is no more than our friend the Mole has to do, so that he can hardly be looked upon as an object either of pity or contempt; and in fact, in his own quiet way, he probably manages to enjoy his life as much as his neighbours. In going about in his subterranean galleries the Mole is constantly engaged in looking out for suitable food, a very large supply of which is necessary for his comfortable existence. M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire says that the appetite of hunger in the Mole is a sort of frenzy, the animal when in view of its prey becoming violently agitated, and throwing itself on its victim as if maddened with rage. Vegetable substances constitute no part of its diet, although it is said sometimes to gnaw the roots of plants in search of the insects and larvæ which feed upon them. Its favourite food consists of earthworms, in pursuit of which it sometimes comes to the surface so eagerly as to throw itself out of its burrow. It is in search of these animals, and especially of the larvæ of various insects which feed upon the roots of grasses and other plants, that the Mole makes its most superficial galleries.
The Mole appears not to be particular in its tastes in the matter of food, and will readily make a meal upon animals much larger and higher in the scale of organisation than those above mentioned, should they happen to come in its way. Mice, small birds, Lizards, and Frogs, if placed within its reach, it will seize and hold with the ferocity and tenacity of a thoroughbred Bull-dog, and even weaker individuals of its own species are killed and devoured. According to M. Geoffroy, in attacking birds it makes use of a good deal of stratagem to get unobserved within reach of its prey, and then by a sudden and violent attack seizes the bird by the belly, tears it open with its powerful claws, and thrusts its muzzle among the unfortunate creature’s entrails, with every appearance of intense enjoyment. M. Flourens gives a similar account of its proceedings. Professor Lenz also describes the voracity of the Mole, and its determined mode of destroying larger animals than one would suppose it capable of managing. A Mole in his possession destroyed and devoured, in the course of twenty-four hours, a large Slowworm, a large Snail, two Chrysalids, and a Snake about thirty-two inches long. Of the reptiles he left nothing but the skin and the bones.
It is probably by the sense of smell chiefly that the Mole is guided in its search for prey. Brehm found that when he had got a Mole buried in some earth in a box, and placed a few fragments of chopped meat on the surface, in a few minutes the earth rose, the muzzle of the Mole appeared, and the meat was devoured. The sense of sight is perhaps in general of little use to the animal; but there are times in its life when to see is an advantage; and time-honoured as the belief may be, there is no doubt that the supposition that the Mole is blind is merely a popular error. It has indeed long been known to naturalists not only that the Mole had eyes, but that these were sufficiently open to enable him to see, and at one time considerable obloquy was heaped upon the memory of Aristotle for having given origin to a statement to the contrary. It would appear, however, that Aristotle’s statement was approximately correct with respect to the southern European species upon which his observations were probably made, and the error was that of those naturalists who applied the assertions of the Greek philosopher to a different animal.
Like other great gormandisers, the Mole is an exceedingly thirsty creature. “Where a colony of Moles exists,” says Mr. Bell, “a run is always made towards the nearest ditch or pond;” and the same writer states, on the authority of Mr. Jackson, an intelligent Mole-catcher, that where water cannot conveniently be reached, “the animal sinks deep, perpendicular shafts, at the bottom of which water is always found, to which the Mole has easy access. Sometimes, also according to the observations of Mr. Jackson, these wells are full to the brim.” These statements are confirmed by a German Mole-catcher, cited by Brehm.
We have already seen that the essential conditions of the Mole’s life consist in continual burrowing. Hence, not unnaturally, the animal shows a marked preference for light soils, and through these he makes his way with remarkable ease and rapidity. Oken says of a Mole, which he kept for six months, that when put into a box of sand, it would make its way through the sand almost as quickly as a fish through the water. In its natural mode of life, however, it by no means confines itself to such vagarious proceedings, but constructs a most complex habitation, which is formed with wonderful art.
MOLE’S FORTRESS.
Each Mole has his own encampment, frequently entirely separate from those of his fellows, but sometimes the animals evince a rather more sociable disposition, and condescend to make use of a common passage. But in his encampment, each Mole always has his own dwelling, which has been, not inappropriately, styled his fortress, and this certainly displays great ingenuity and skill in its design and construction (see [figure]). It is formed under a hillock of earth, in a situation which affords some protection to the little domicile. Its roof is a firm dome, the earth composing it being pressed into a solid mass by the Mole while excavating the internal passages and chambers. Beneath this there are two circular galleries, one above the other, the lower one considerably larger than the upper, with which it communicates by five nearly equi-distant passages, running slantingly upwards. Within the lower circular gallery is situated the actual dwelling-place or chamber, to which access is obtained by three passages descending from the upper gallery, so that when within his house the Mole has to go both up and down stairs to reach his bedroom. But the chamber has another issue by a passage which at first descends for a short distance, and then rises again to lead into the high road running to and from the fortress, which is always single; and, on the other hand, the lower and larger gallery gives off about nine other passages, which either terminate at a short distance from the fortress, or, after making a detour, return into the high road. So cautious is the Mole, that the apertures of these passages are said seldom to be made opposite to those which lead from the lower to the upper circular gallery. With these arrangements it must be confessed that the Mole has provided admirably for being “not at home” to unwelcome visitors.
The same caution that prompts the Mole to the formation of so complicated a castle leads him to take equal care in the construction of the road leading into it. This usually runs in a direct line from one end of the animal’s camping-ground to the other, and forms a highway by which he can go quickly about his business. It is large enough to enable him to pass through it easily, but in making it he is careful not to throw out the earth as he does in his ordinary runs, and the whole passage appears to be chiefly formed by compression of the earth by the little engineer. By his constant passing to and fro, its walls become singularly smooth and compact. Occasionally a Mole will form two or more high roads leading from his fortress, probably when supplies fall short and it is necessary to open up new ground; and sometimes several Moles share the same highway, perhaps in localities where worms and grubs are peculiarly fat and abundant. But in the latter case, as there is not room in the little tunnel for one Mole to pass another, if two of them meet by accident one must give way or retire into a side alley, otherwise a violent combat ensues, when the weaker is ruthlessly killed and devoured. The road varies in its depth from the surface according to the nature of the soil and other circumstances; in safe localities it is usually at a depth of four or five inches.
It is through this well-beaten path that the Mole goes out to his hunting-grounds, and by it also that he is obliged to return. The Mole-catchers are well aware of this peculiarity in the habits of the animal, and one of their most successful devices for its capture consists in placing traps in the course of the high road at a time when the Mole is sure to be out on a foraging expedition, so as to intercept him on his way home. The rapidity of its motion along the high road, especially when alarmed, was demonstrated by an amusing experiment shown to M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire by M. Le Court. The latter, having ascertained the direction of a Mole’s road, and found that the animal was hunting at its furthest extremity, placed all along the line at certain distances pieces of straw, passing one end of each into the little tunnel, and attaching little paper flags to the other. He then inserted a horn close to the extremity of the tunnel, and, blowing into it, produced a frightful noise, upon hearing which the Mole naturally made the best of his way home to his fortress, indicating his progress by throwing off the little flags as he passed the successive straws. It was estimated that the speed of the frightened animal was equal to that of a Horse at full trot.