So the “plop” of the water-vole into the brook from the bank has not been to us the mere splash of a frightened animal into the stream. It has opened for us many trains of thought, and taken us into several sciences. It has shown us something of the links which connect it with man, birds, and fishes, and so has led us into ornithology and ichthyology. It has shown how the inventions of man have their prototypes in the animal kingdom. Comparative anatomy and physiology have also been shown to form portions of the life-history of the familiar animal, and have demonstrated the truth of the axiom enunciated on [page 34], that no animal and no branch of science can stand alone.
Like other beings, the water-vole has its relatives, two of whom will come within the range of our subject. Being small creatures, they go by the popular name of mice, just as their larger relative is popularly called a rat. These are the FIELD-VOLE and the BANK-VOLE, both of which we may expect to find on the banks of our brook, especially when the banks are clothed with shrubs. The former of these animals is a very old acquaintance of mine, and when I was a lad I could go into a field and make almost certain of catching a field-vole (Arvícola agrestis) within about ten minutes.
A CORMORANT STRANGLED BY AN EEL.
This little animal looks very much like a water-vole seen through the wrong end of an opera-glass, except that the fur is redder and the ears are longer in proportion to the size of the head. The tail is only about one-third as long as the body—a peculiarity which has earned for it the popular name of “short-tailed field-mouse.” A more appropriate name for it is “campagnol.”
Even in this country the campagnol is apt to be one of the worst foes of the agriculturist, especially at harvest and seed time.
Not only does it devour the ripe corn in the field, but it makes its way into ricks and barns, and eats large quantities of the gathered corn. Moreover, just after the seed-corn has been sown it digs the grains out of the ground, thus doing mischief which is often attributed to the sparrow and other small birds. In France, however, where not a kestrel, or, indeed, any unprotected bird, can be seen, the campagnol can carry out his depredations without hindrance, and consequently increases until it becomes an actual plague. In the Department of Aisne alone a few years ago the fields were honeycombed with the burrows of the animal, and the farmers spent some seventy thousand pounds in ridding their fields of the nuisance. First poison was laid down; but so many hares and rabbits were killed that another plan had to be tried. Stacks of hay and straw were then made, containing quantities of poisoned carrots, turnips, and beetroot. The agriculturists, therefore, had to pay heavily for doing that which the kestrel would have done to a great degree, if they had suffered it to live and carry out its appointed work in preserving the balance of Nature.
The owls, again, are determined enemies of the campagnol, more than half the food on which they and their young live being composed of these mischievous little animals. Fortunately for the owls, their nocturnal habits save them from the destruction which would have befallen them had they sought their food in the light of day.
If we wish to see this pretty little creature, we have only to watch carefully the field through which our brook runs, and we shall be almost certain to find it. But we must know where to look and how to look.