assy glade which
ran down to the water's edge, till at last I saw seven of them busily at
work within a few yards of me, all coming from one direction. It at
first struck me that they were some farmer's pigs taking a distant
ramble; but I shortly saw they were badgers, come from their fastnesses
rather earlier than usual, tempted by the quiet evening, and by a heavy
summer shower that was just over, and which had brought out an infinity
of large black snails and worms, on which the badgers were feeding with
good appetite. As I was dressed in grey, and sitting on a grey rock,
they did not see me, but waddled about, sometimes close to me, only now
and then, as they crossed my track, they showed a slight uneasiness,
smelling the ground, and grunting gently. Presently a very large one,
which I took to be the mother of the rest, stood motionless for a
moment, listening with great attention, and then giving a loud grunt,
which seemed perfectly understood by the others; she scuttled away,
followed by the whole lot. I was soon joined by my attendant, whose
approach they had heard long before my less acute ears gave me warning
of his coming.... When caught in traps, they [badgers] never leave part
of their foot behind them and so escape, as foxes and other vermin
frequently do; but they display very great strength and dexterity in
drawing up the peg of the trap, and this done, they will carry off the
heaviest trap to an amazing distance, over rock or heather. They never
attempt to enter their hole with a trap dangling to their foot, but
generally lay up in some furze bush or thicket.

"When first caught, their efforts to escape show a degree of strength
and ingenuity which is quite wonderful, digging and tearing at their
prison with the strength of a rhinoceros. I one day found a badger, not
much hurt, in a trap. Tying a rope to his hind leg, I drove him home
before me, as a man drives a pig, but with much less trouble, for he
made no attempts to escape, but trotted quietly ahead, only occasionally
showing a natural inclination to bolt off the main path, whenever he
passed any diverging road, all of which were probably familiar haunts of
the unlucky beast. When at home, I put him into a paved court, where I
thought he could not possibly escape. The next morning, however, he was
gone, having displaced a stone that I thought him quite incapable of
moving, and then digging under a wall.... Sometimes I have known a
badger leave the