
Choose a starlight night with a slight breeze blowing, and approach the earth up
the wind. Do not hurry your d o g : if he knows his work he will range freely,
but he often takes a long time to puzzle out the track. I f you miss him go on
slowly in the direction in which you last saw him, often stopping to listen.
‘ What is that ? The dry sticks crack in a hedge far below you. H a rk! two
sharp eager barks; what does it mean ? Why, that “ Grip ” is wheeling out in a
half-circle to gain slightly on the Badger, and then to dash in and get him by
the head. Run now as you never ran before. Head over heels into a ditch;
never mind, up and on again—the best dog can’t hold a Badger, for ever. There
they are, out in the open, Grip with a tight hold of the Badger by the side of the
head, with his legs tucked back out of harm’s way. Grasp him with the tongs as
near the neck as possible. Take off the dog, someone. Hold the bag; hoist our
grey-coated friend into the air, and lower him into the sack; he weighs at least
thirty pounds. The dog is hardly marked, and you have not torn more than three
rents in your nether garments getting through that last thorn hedge. Altogether
everyone agrees that it was a satisfactory little run.
‘ The old English sheep-dog I have known do well for the other method.
The Badger, when pursued, makes straight for home, blunders headlong into the
hole, only to find that his efforts to get in are closing the mouth of the sack;
that retreat and fighting are alike in va in; and that he is an imprisoned bag-man
without having struck a blow in self-defence. It is not uncommon for a Badger
thus pursued to stand at bay, when a good dog may keep him in play, or hold
on, till you come up and secure him. No doubt there is excitement and amusement
in the moonlight chase, and to some it is preferable to the arduous labour
with pick, spade, axe, and terrier.’
These modes of taking the Badger are most often resorted to where the
animals have become destructive, and it has been found impossible to trap them.
There is no European animal which is so difficult to take with a gin. I do know
of a certain method by which the Badger may be easily caught with an ordinary
spring trap, but it is unnecessary to give it here. The Badger has an excellent
and delicate sense of smell, and its power of detecting a hidden danger is
extraordinary. Instead of avoiding the engine of destruction, it seems to take a
peculiar pleasure or thoughtfulness for future safety, call it what you will, in
springing the trap. This it does by turning a somersault over the dangerous spot,
its weight being sufficient to set off the trap, and its long back hair being so
resilient that its back escapes being gripped.
I first heard of this from an old keeper in Wiltshire, who, wishing to destroy
a Badger that had become mischievous, set many gins under a rookery where the
animal came nightly to hunt for young rooks that had dropped from the nests.
He placed a circle of traps round a young rabbit or rook, and one or two of
these were always sprung in the morning and the bait gone; sometimes hairs
from the back of the Badger were left in the trap. So one fine evening he
determined to see for himself how the marvel was done, and accordingly ascended
a tree from which he had a good view of the bait and the circle of traps. It was
still fairly light when the Badger came beneath the tree in which he was hidden,
and he distinctly saw the cunning animal walk boldly up to the nearest trap and
stop and sniff at it. Then to the wondering eyes of the man the Badger turned
a quick head-over-heels over the gin, and walked up to the bait—ia young rabbit—
part of which it ate. After nosing about for a bit the cunning old fellow again
turned a somersault over another of the traps, in which it left a few of the long
hairs of its back. These the keeper . showed to me in proof of his story, which
was without doubt perfectly correct in every detail.
I may add that on this and two subsequent occasions the keeper fired at the
Badger with his gun at close range, but without any other effect than to make the
beast turn further somersaults and bolt with great rapidity. Needless to say that
after this the simple countryman entertained the most exaggerated ideas on the
subject of Badgers, insisting that they are impossible to slay with either snare or
lead 1
Mr. Beville Stanier of Peplow has told me a similar story of the cunning of
a Badger he endeavoured to trap, and has also seen the long hairs from the
Badger’s back left in the gin. Colonel Reid corroborates this trick on the part
of the animal, for # his keeper in Somersetshire has observed a Badger perform
a flying somersault out of a hole and set off the trap placed in the sand at the
mouth.
Badgers are sometimes trapped with the ordinary steel trap, especially when
first set, as then they are not always suspicious. When caught, they will employ
their great strength in attempting to escape, and will frequently pull out
the peg which holds the engine of destruction. I f they are unable to wrench
out the peg, like rats, otters, and stoats they will bite the captive leg or foot
clean off.
The strength of the jaw of the Badger and the whole vitality of the animal
are proverbial. Athough not a large beast, the massiveness and strength of the