A Ramble on the Moor

The Moorland on a lovely summer morning is gay with small butterflies, and the hum of bees and shrilling of grasshoppers fill the air. As we wander over the heather we must keep a sharp look-out for the other Moorland dwellers. We shall see and hear many birds, but those we must discuss in other lessons.

Crossing a dry, sunny patch of sand between the jungles of heather, we detect a quick movement. We soon trace it, and find a lizard trying to hide in the tangle. We disturbed him as he watched in the sunshine for the insects and spiders on which he preys.

Nature has given the lizard such keen senses that he is as sharp as a needle. He disappears like magic—as if the fairies had granted him the wonderful " cloak of invisibility." Perhaps he needs all his skill! He seems to have few enemies, but the two most to be feared are the Viper and Grass Snake. These are so patient, so quick and deadly that the lizard must be nimble to escape them He darts at once into the heather tangle, but even there he is never safe from them. His life depends on speed and alertness.

One other protection the lizard has, and that a very odd one indeed! As he is mostly tail, his enemies are apt to seize that part! Then a strange thing happens! Off comes the tip of the tail, and while the enemy is busy "killing" the still wriggling portion, the lizard is hidden away in safety The loss of the tail is nothing to him, for he soon grows a new one.

Like all other reptiles, the female of this common lizard of our moors has largish eggs, but she does not lay them until they are just about to hatch She then, in the most cold-blooded way, leaves her little black babies wriggling on the ground!

The Viper or Adder is quite common on many heathlands. Its shining coils, with their dark markings, are not always easily seen; they mingle with the lights and shades of the tangled heather and bracken, where this poisonous snake basks in the noonday sunshine. It finds an easy living here, preying on mice and lizards, and, in the spring, on eggs and young birds.

Down in the marshy part of the moor, it seeks poor Froggie as a welcome change of food. Here, too, is the Grass Snake, on the same quest. This snake, of course, is quite harmless. The yellow and black markings which look like a ring or collar round its neck, and also its plain,  greenish back, help us to distinguish it from the venomous Adder. The latter has no collar, and a distinct black zigzag marking down the middle of its back. But it is as well for boys and girls not to go too near any  kind of snake.

Coming to a sandy, bare part of the moor, we find it to be riddled with rabbit burrows. To see the warren  at its best we must hide near by, at dusk; then the bunnies, old and young, venture out for their evening meal and a romp. How they skip and jump, and run merry races! But they know to an inch how far to venture; at the least alarm there is a scamper of brown bodies, with little white scuts  (tails) bobbing up and down!

Where Bunny has his home, we may be sure his enemies, the Fox and Stoat, are not far away. If the Moor is one preserved for the Grouse, these hunters are in their turn hunted by the keepers. All birds and beasts that might harm the precious Grouse, or their eggs, are "vermin." So Mr. Keeper, with gun, dog, ferret, trap, and poison, sets out to lessen their numbers. In some quiet corner you may find their dead bodies, where he has hung them up in a dismal row.

In olden days Red Deer roamed in large herds over the moorlands of England and Scotland. You know from your history book how the Norman kings and nobles, loving the sport of hunting, made strict laws to protect the deer. The New Forest was one of the great spaces where these laws were very severely enforced. The Red Deer still finds a home in some English parks, and on West of England moors; but in a really wild state it is only to be seen in the deer "forests" of the Highlands of Scotland. There they roam in numbers (see picture, p. 14) in the lovely glens and over the rugged hill-sides. They are hardy and strong, and only when the deep snows of the northern winter cover their grazing grounds do they travel to the lower valleys.

Red Deer in March

Our coloured picture (p. 20) shows the hind  and her calf. Early in June her precious baby is born; she conceals it with care in the heather or bracken and there leaves it, visiting it only at dawn and late in the evening. As soon as its legs gain strength it follows her about, and keeps close to her for more than a year. So at times you may see the hind with a twelve-months-old baby trotting by her side, and close behind it a much smaller one, a baby of but a few weeks!

Red Deer—Hind and Calf

The male deer, or stag,  has nothing to do with this family party. He feeds with other stags, big and little. But in the autumn a great change comes over them, and then begins a warfare lasting over three weeks. We shall be wise to avoid the 'moor or park at that time, for the stag is then ready to wound anyone and everyone. He seems bent on doing battle; and, if a rival stag beats him in the fight, he is eager to be revenged on a smaller stag, or on the passer-by!

The night air resounds with loud, fierce roaring, mingled with the clash of antlers  as the stags meet in battle. An old stag bellows out his war-call, daring every other one in hearing to come and "fight it out." The young stags retreat in fear, knowing that they cannot stand against the weight and thrust of the warrior. But an older one throws back his great head and sends forth a roar of defiance as he trots towards his rival.

Nearer and nearer come the two angry stags until they are side by side. Then suddenly they turn head to head, their huge antlers meeting with a loud clash! They push and charge and strain with every muscle, first one and then the other being forced to his knees, for neither will give way while his strength lasts. But at length one is thrown on his side, and runs away for his life! The winner of the fight roars again and again in triumph, and then the timid hinds gather to the side of the victor, who has proved that he is indeed the Monarch of the Glen.

A Moorland Glen

Strange to say, those great antlers of the fighting stags are shed every year. In March or April they drop off, and the once proud stag feels proud no longer. He takes himself off to lonely places. And soon his new antlers begin to show, looking like two soft, smooth knobs on his head.

Inch by inch the knobs grow and take the shape of branching antlers. At first they are covered with "velvet"—a smooth skin, which the stags at length rub off against the heather. The age of the stag may be told by the size and shape of his antlers. For two years they are straight, but in the third year they have a single pointed branch, or tine,  as it is termed. Each year, until the stag is seven years old, sees one more point, or tine, added. He is then in his prime, and is known as a "royal stag," or a "stag of twelve"—that is to say, with six points or tines adorning each noble antler.