or seven times with the same consequences. Whether or not she got on the blind side of him I cannot say; but with the stick I had in my hand I determined on dislodging her ladyship; so with the hookey end I forthwith turned over the bundle of dried grass, &c., which parted in the middle, and lifted up like the lid of a box; when lo, and behold! there she sat fondling over a host of naked, blind young ones, about three or four days old. The sudden appearance of daylight seemed at first to bewilder the poor creature; but she soon recovered, and began licking her offspring, yet looked unconscious of what she was doing, for her eyes were fixed most piercingly on the ferret. He was sniffing about, yet creeping stealthily nearer and nearer; but when he came within a certain distance, out she dashed at him, and knocked him over again; this she repeated three or four times, each time inflicting a fresh wound, until the ferret was bleeding from all points, which made him extremely cautious; and it was some time before he would venture again within certain limits. In the mean time the poor rat was licking and fondling over her young, as if to persuade them that they were all safe, and that there was no danger at hand. By this time, the ferret, gathering himself up for mischief, pressed boldly forward—when out she dashed at him; but two of her young ones were hanging to her teats, which I suppose broke her spring; they fell off, helplessly sprawling on their backs, and she got into the ferret’s clutches. He had seized her by the skin of the back, and was cuddling her up in his deadly grasp, which was too much for me. The idea of so spirited a creature, which had beat off a much larger and deadly enemy so many times, becoming a prey to his fangs, and leaving twelve poor little blind sucklings without a mother, needed no further argument; so into the ditch I jumped, and taking the ferret by the tail, laid them on the bank, and thrust the small end of my stick into his mouth, and, by giving it a slight wrench, allowed the rat to get loose; but, instead of running off directly to her young as I expected, she turned upon the ferret again and again, a perfect little vixen, and bit him most severely before I could get out of the ditch: it was very evident that she had made up her mind to a life-and-death battle. I kept hold of the ferret’s tail, which very much impeded his action; but no sooner was I fairly landed than I suspended him in the air at arm’s length. The rat sprang up five or six times, but could not reach him; when, all in an instant, like a squirrel, she ran up my leg and body, then along my arm, and dropping on him, gave him another bite and fell. This I thought anything but fair play; so when she attempted it a second time I brushed her off, and there she stood, with her head and mane up, which looked like a black line down her back; and her pretty black eyes flashed defiance at the pair of us. Indeed I apprehended she would lay hold of me; so, to divert her attention, I touched her with the stick, which she furiously bit through, and then ran off to her young. With this I left her mistress of the field, and felt perfectly delighted at the courage she had displayed in defence of her young.
I made it a daily practice, for about a month, to supply this little heroine with food; at the expiration of which time, as I passed down the hedge-side, there I saw the twelve young ones, and fine fat fellows they were; but no sooner did they espy me than up the bank they ran, showing their little white tails and feet. Through the hedge they rustled into the cornfields, and I never afterwards saw anything more of them.
CHAPTER IV.
TAME RATS.
INSTANCES of tame rats are by no means rare, or of their becoming gentle and attached to those who feed and caress them. Mr. Bell says, that although the disposition of the rat appears to be naturally very ferocious, still there are instances on record of its evincing considerable attachment not only to its own species but to mankind also; and, no doubt, were not rats held in such universal detestation, the taming of them would be an amusement often indulged in. I have seen numbers of them, at various times, as tame as rabbits; but more especially in the Happy Family, of which I have already spoken, and which may be seen daily in the streets of London. The proprietor will handle and play with them without the least concern, and the little creatures seem quite pleased with his condescension. I called upon him twice, for the purpose of satisfying myself upon two points. The first was, to ascertain if he had any kind of scent about him which might, as it were, charm or stupefy them; and the second was to see if their teeth were perfect; as in the event of their being drawn, that would of course disable them from hurting each other, and they would soon grow tired of quarrelling and fighting.
On both occasions I had a rat and the ferret out in my own hand, and resting on my arms together. The ferret certainly was one of the most clean and handsome animals of the kind I ever saw, and had one of the finest and most perfect set of teeth I ever beheld; and so had the rat. These facts sufficed to show the groundlessness of my suspicions as to there being any drug, charm, or delusion in the matter; for they were as tame and tractable with me as with him, and quietly submitted to every examination without the least discomfiture. Indeed, the only uneasiness they evinced was while struggling with each other as to which should first get into the bosom of my shirt. The rat got in first, and was directly followed by the ferret. In they drew themselves, tails and all, and there they lay quietly snoozing together; so that passers-by did not dream that I had anything of the kind about me. Yet do not suppose that even I was a privileged person, because if you will take the trouble to call, and give the owner a trifle, he will take them out, and they will do the same with you as they did with me, providing you treat them kindly, and not pinch their tails, as some cruel passers-by do.
Here let me warn some thoughtless persons of a wanton act of cruelty. Among the rats in the cage there are several with portions of their tails gone, some having lost half their tails, others nearly all, and so on. On my inquiring the cause, the man told me it was through the spectators cruelly nipping their tails with their thumb-nails, as they popped through the wires; and that where they nipped them, there would their tails rot off. This, I am satisfied will be sufficient to induce any person of feeling to check such wantonness where they see it. But let me proceed with my narrative of tame rats.
In a wild and undisturbed state, how often are rats to be seen so indifferent to man that they will scarcely take the trouble to get out of his way. This indifference arises either from indolence in the man, pressure of business, or kindness of disposition; and thus are rats often charged with daring and impudence which, in truth, is only a confidence they have acquired in man through coming so frequently in contact with him without molestation. I have known instances of their ascending from the bottom of the house to the drawing-room, and eating the crumbs beneath the table that have fallen from supper, while persons were seated at the fireside in comfortable conversation; nor would they go out unless driven; but, upon being left alone, they would clear the carpet, and quietly depart.
In Neale’s “Residence at Siam,” the author says he was astonished, on visiting the houses of some of the inhabitants, to see a huge rat walking about the room, and crawling up the master’s legs in a cool familiar manner. Instead of repulsing it, or evincing any horror or alarm, he took it up in his hands, and fondly caressed it; and then Mr. Neale learned, for the first time, that it was a custom prevalent at Bankok to keep pet rats, which are taken very young, and carefully reared, till they attain a perfectly monstrous size, from good and plentiful feeding. The domestic rats are kept expressly to free the house of other rats; and so ferocious are they in their attacks, that few houses where they are kept are ever annoyed with either mice or rats.
I have met with another instance of the above kind. A friend, by trade a corn-dealer, told me that he had at home one of the finest rats in England, and that he would not take the best ten sovereigns coined for it. Upon further inquiry, he told me that he found it when quite young in the corner of a bin, and that curiosity prompted him to have it emasculated. The consequence was that it grew up one of the finest fellows ever seen, and as tame and playful as a dog. But for keeping the place clear of vermin, it was worth all the cats and rat-catchers in the neighbourhood. For my own part, I feel no hesitation in saying that any one who could feel a fancy for such a thing would find the results most satisfactory.
A man living
