one day to mark an extra fine black beetle, and I persuaded the old lady to
keep an eye upon it while I ran for Sally, when the prompt way in which she
dispatched that beetle after hunting it from under the stair carpet redounded to
her advantage in the pick of the bones and plenty of stock-pot meat, so ticklish
to her taste, and Sally continued her useful attentions to the beetles. As for
moles, she must have been born with a perfect knowledge of the art of catching
them ; in fact in Sally’s paws it became a science. She first listened along the
ground, and having located her quarry promptly dug down. The firmest turf on
the driest summer day gave way to her claws in a way that was simply marvellous,
and when- I essayed to help her it is clear she regarded me as an interfering
bungler and a spoiler of sport. I never saw Sally pursue rabbits or game of any
kind. Literally speaking she was a “ pouncer,” and a good one too, for she never
let go. Judging by what I saw when we two took our walks abroad, I think that,
could Sally have had her say, she would have told us that field slugs and worms
were the titbits, and that an entrée of beetles took some beating. She delighted
in slugging expeditions in a field of long aftermath, and when the worms she had
hold of attempted to retreat into the ground she made a sucking noise, and in
pressing all her weight excitedly forward, she almost invariably tilted right up
until she nearly went heels over head. And now when I see in the early morning
a track all over the grass fields, like that which a broom would leave upon the
dew, I know Badgers have been hunting for worms ; and I can see the shiny
places too where they, like Sally, have pressed their noses hard into the earth.
Notwithstanding our long rambles I was never apprehensive of her halting and
going to ground. She gave earths of all sorts merely a passing sniff. She would
often let herself out from her yard, and, incredible as it may seem, she managed
not only an awkward latch, but cleverly, while hanging on, pulled the door towards
her. Once when I was away from home Sally entered the house, went straight
up to my room, and refused to come from under my bed. Keepers had to carry
up the barrel which served as her kennel, and force her into it, and so carry her
down.
‘ The taming of Sally was not accomplished without my having painful proof
of the strength of the Badger’s jaw. An eighteen-pound Badger hanging to the
ends of one’s fingers a time or two is, to say the least of it, calculated to make a
serious impression. Those who have had their digits shut in a door will best
realise the sensation. This happened in early days, though, and generally through
my grabbing at her without due warning when picking her up in the dark. Later