iences
of their watchful teachers.

While prevented from wandering abroad, they nevertheless were not
entirely ignorant of what was happening in the woods. They were not
quickly weaned; it was necessary, before the dam denied them Nature's
first nourishment, that they should have ready access to the brook that
trickled down the hillside hollow not far from the "set." But
meanwhile, young rabbits, dug from the breeding "stops" of the does,
were frequently brought to them, and the badgers were encouraged to
gratify a love for solid food which nightly became stronger.

In this part of the education of their young, the parent badgers adopted
methods similar to those of the fox and other carnivorous animals. When
first the mother badger brought a rabbit home, she placed it close
beside her cubs, so that they could not fail to be attracted by its
scent. For a moment, aware of something new and strange, they showed
signs of timidity, and crouched together in the middle of the nest; but
the presence of their mother reassured them, and they sniffed at the
warm body with increasing delight. The dam seemed to know each trifling
thought passing through their minds; and, observing their eager
interest, she dragged the rabbit into a corner of the bed, making great
show of savagery, as if guarding it from their attacks. Time after time,
she alternately surrendered and withdrew her victim, till the tempers of
the little animals, irritated beyond control by her tantalising methods,
blazed out in a free fight among themselves for possession of the
prize. The mother now retired to a corner of the "set," and listened
attentively to all that happened, till they had finished their quarrel,
and Brock, the middle figure in a group of tired youngsters, lay fast
asleep with his head on the rabbit's neck. Then she turned, climbed
quietly to the upper galleries, and, stealing out among the shadows of
the wood, came again to the breeding "stop," where she unearthed and
devoured a young rabbit that had been suffocated in the loose soil
thrown up during her former visit. After quenching her thirst at the
brook in the hollow, she journeyed to the upland fields, crossed the
scent of her mate in the gorse, and then "cast" back across the
hillside, making a leisurely examination of each woodland sign, to
satisfy herself that no danger lurked in the neighbourhood of her home.

For the badger, as for the tiny field-vole in the rough pastures of the
Cerd