that because the Shrews (except this species) are little seen by day they are
necessarily nocturnal. Neither point is correct, and those who have made such
broad statements have had little experience in studying these animals in a wild
state. The Water Shrew is a diurnal animal, and though it must be equally
active at night (for its remains are frequently found in the pellets of owls), its
constant desire and necessity for food cause continual activity, a state of restlessness
such as we see in the mole.
In spite, however, of the diurnal habits of the Water Shrews, they are by no
means easy to observe. For three days in succession I have had unusual opportunities
of observing them in a stream situated in the forest near my house, and
then they have totally disappeared and I have not seen them again for a year—
not, indeed, until I discovered a fresh habitat. Many good observers have never
seen a Water Shrew, although living within a few hundred yards of a colony all
their lives. As an amusing instance of this, I was walking one day in the
beautiful American garden at Leonardslea with the owner, Sir Edmund Loder, and,
noting the character of the brook which ran through the valley and the still
pellucid pools through which it flowed, I asked my host if he had ever seen
Water Shrews there. No, he never had, and was sure if they existed he must
have seen them. ‘ But come here,’ he observed, ‘ here is my mole-catcher, who
has been all his life trapping moles and vermin, and who is continuously at work
in the forest at this pursuit.’ So we interviewed Old Tom.
Yes, he knew all the little ‘ varmin ’ from hedgepigs to blindmice (Shrews),
but such a beast that was black and white and lived in the ponds and streams
he declared did not exist in St. Leonard’s Forest. I think we both turned away
with different convictions; taking a few steps forward, we came to the edge of
one of the still pools in question. At that moment a small jet black spot out in
the long grass about fifteen yards away from the water caught my eye. Now
there is hardly anything black in nature, and if you are a hunter there is no
colour which attracts you so quickly. Sir Edmund also observed it, and as we
looked the Water Shrew, for such it was, heard us, and with a series of bounds
made all haste for the pool, into which it plunged and at once disappeared.
‘Well,’ said my host, ‘ that is the first I ever saw in my life, which shows
how easy it is to overlook a thing.’
I think that the Water Shrew seeks much of its food on land, and
frequently hunts the long grass near the river and ditch banks for slugs and
insects; that it burrows for worms like its cousin the mole I once had the good
fortune to witness. Having noticed several curious little tunnels driven through
the mud and decayed vegetable? ; mould at the side of a sluggish stream in
St. Leonard's Forest in the summer of 1902, I went with a trowel to unearth
one, in order to find where it led to, and if possible discover what animals had
made it. Coming quietly over the bank, I sat down on a hillock overlooking the
stream, when I noticed something pushing up the earth just below me. A
winding gallery of about two feet long had been recently drilled from the water’s
edge, and the animal, whatever it was, was even then throwing .up the earth.
Each successive heave of the small excavator raised the. surface of the tunnel,
about an inch, the sides falling out slightly with each movement. The gallery
was slowly forming under my eyes. I crept a little nearer, and in doing so must
have caused some vibration of the ground, for the excavator at once suspended
operations; but the next instant a Water Shrew sprang from the exit into the
water, and, swimming rapidly down stream beneath the surface, disappeared into a
hole in the bank. I did not disturb the works, which were evidently made
primarily in search of worms, but which I found subsequently are used as retreats,
and often have down shafts leading away back to the water or under the bank.
Next day I went to the spot with my wife, and just as we reached it we saw a
Water Shrew skip across the stream and run into one of these surface tunnels.
‘ Now I have you, Mr. Waterbaby,' I thought, for I was anxious to catch a
specimen and if possible keep it alive. My wife guarded the exit to the water,
and I began at the other end and dug up the whole gallery until I reached hér;
but no Water Shrew was within. It had made a small down shaft, which I
afterwards found and which could be .used in cases of emergency like the present.
Later I cut down the bank where I had first seen the Shrew disappear, and found
a very elaborate system of galleries connecting the main retreat both with the surface
of the ground and the water. In the dwelling place I found, in July, the remains
of the Water Shrew’s nest, a compact ball of grass with a few oak leaves, very
similar to. the nest of the Common Shrew, only larger. The tenants must have
deserted the place shortly before, as I did not see them again for another year,
and then in an entirely different part of the stream.
Opportunities of studying the Shrews in a wild state are usually few and far
between, and the difficulty of learning anything of their inner life is still further
accentuated by the fact that it is well-nigh impossible to keep them in confinement
for any length of time. Of the actual times of breeding and the gestation
of this little animal we are at present uncertain. The nest of the Water Shrew
VOL. 1.