Homes Without Hands: Being a Description of the Habitations of Animals, Classed According to Their Principle of Construction

Another reason for the cleanliness of the fur is the strong, though membranous muscle beneath the skin. While the Mole is engaged in tunneling, particularly in loose earth, the soil falls upon the fur, and for a time clings to it. But, at tolerably regular intervals, the creature gives the skin a sharp and powerful shake, which throws off at once the whole of the mould that has collected upon the fur. Some amount of dust still retains its hold, for, however clean the fur of a Mole may seem to be, if the creature be placed for an hour in water, a considerable quantity of earth will be dissolved away, and fall to the bottom of the vessel. The improvement in the fur after being well washed with soft tepid water and soap, is almost incredible.

Many persons have been struck with such admiration of the fur of the Mole, that they have been desirous of having a number of the skins collected and made into a waistcoat. This certainly can be done, but is not a commendable plan, for the garments thus made are very hot, so that they can only be worn in winter; they are very expensive, costing from two to three pounds, and they possess but little lasting powers. There is also a wonderfully strong smell about the Mole, so strong, indeed, that dogs will sometimes point at Moles instead of game, to the great disgust of their masters. This odor adheres obstinately to the skin, and even in furs, which have been dried for more than ten years, I have noticed this unpleasant savor.

The Mole is one of those animals which, like the sloth, are formed expressly for the condition of life in which they are placed. There are many burrowing animals, but the Mole is emphatically the burrower, the very type of a creature which is intended to pass the whole of an active existence under ground. I say an active existence, because there are many other creatures which lead a subterranean life, but which are comparatively quiet and listless during their sojourn underground. But the Mole absolutely riots in the exuberance of animal spirits and muscular activity, passing through the earth almost like a fish through the water, and giving to its strange, and apparently sombre life, a poetry and an interest which we fail to find in the lives of many creatures more richly endowed with external beauty.

Let me recommend the reader to procure, or at all events to examine, the skeleton of a Mole, and to note the wonderful structure by which such effects are produced. The enormous shoulder-blades, projecting far above the spine, the short, bowed, and powerful bones of the fore limbs, the wide, flattened palms, and the strong, sharp, and curved claws, look almost like a miniature model of some machine invented for the purpose of tearing the stubborn earth.

See how all the power is thrown into the fore quarters, while the hind quarters are feeble, and, in comparison, common-place. See how enormously strong must be the muscles of the neck, where the ligament (popularly called the paxwax) is hardened into bone. The nose, too, is furnished with an accessory bone, which projects into the snout, and gives it that combined strength and mobility which distinguishes the creature. Immediately after death the snout of the Mole is flexible and elastic, springing back when bent, as if cut from solid India-rubber. But in a very few hours it becomes stiff, unsightly, and shriveled, and loses all its plump rotundity. Once lost, this is never restored. You may immerse the Mole in water as long as you like, but as the shriveling is more from within than without, the moisture fails to penetrate the tissues, and to enable them to regain their pristine contour. As to stuffed specimens, I never yet saw one in a museum that gave much idea of the animal, and the snout in particular, is always crumpled, black, and withered.

In order to give greater spread and power to the fore paws, there is an accessory bone shaped something like a sickle, projecting from the carpus, and it will be found that in this extraordinary animal still exist certain remarkable peculiarities of structure, which are seen in no other living form, but have been discovered in the fossil skeletons of animals long extinct.

I have given much space to the Mole on account of its many claims to our notice. Had the creature been a rare and costly inhabitant of the tropics, how deep would have been the interest which it excited. How the scientific world would have crowded to see the marvelous structure of a skeleton wherein are several accessory bones, and which exhibit peculiarities hitherto found only in fossil remains. How great would have been the admiration evoked by its soft, velvet-like fur, its tiny eyes deeply hidden in the fur, so as to be sheltered from the earth through which the animal is continually making its way, the strange mixture of strength and softness in the palms of its fore feet, and the elastic springiness of its nose.

But, because it is a native of our own country, and to be found in every field, there are but few who care to examine a creature so common, or who experience any feelings save those of contempt or disgust, when they see a Mole making its way over the ground in search of a soft spot in which to burrow, or pass by the place where the mole-catcher has strung up his victims on the trees as Louis XI. was accustomed to suspend the bodies of those who had committed the crime of trespassing on the royal domains. For my own part, I am but too glad that such wonderful beings are common, and am thankful for so many opportunities of studying the works of Him who has made the lowly Mole as carefully as the lordly man.

THERE are many other burrowing animals allied to the mole; and although it will be impossible to give illustrations of their burrows, they ought not to be passed by without a casual notice.

The Shrews, for example, are among the burrowers, and although their eyes are full and round, their fore quarters of ordinary proportions, and their fore feet of the usual shape, there is something about the head, with its long mobile snout, which strongly reminds the observer of the same member in the mole. These pretty little creatures reside within their burrows during the day, and are therefore seldom seen in a living state, except by those who are in the habit of traversing the country by night in search of specimens. Dead Shrews are common enough, having probably been killed by predatory animals, but left uneaten on the ground, in consequence of the powerful odor which they evolve.

At the end of the burrow the Shrew makes its nest, which is composed of dry grasses and other herbage, and is of a partly globular form.

The SHREW MOLE of North America (Scalops aquaticus) is one of the best burrowers among this family, scarcely yielding to the mole itself in the extent of the tunnels which it excavates. Like the mole, it drives its burrows below the surface of the ground, throws up hillocks at intervals, and feeds chiefly on earthworms. The eyes of this creature are very minute, and deeply hidden in the soft fur. Unlike the mole, however, it is in the constant habit of coming to the surface of the ground, and passing into the full blaze of the noontide sun. At that time of day the animal may be caught by driving a spade under it, so as to cut off its retreat, and by flinging it to some distance from its tunnel.

Mr. Peale mentions that a Shrew Mole in his possession was able to bend the snout to such an extent as to force food into its mouth. The European mole, flexible as is its mobile snout, possesses no such power, but is obliged to perform that task with its fore paws.

Then there is the ELEPHANT SHREW of Southern Africa (Macroscelides typicus), a thick-furred, long-snouted, short-eared burrower, which has a rather remarkable method of sinking its tunnels, by boring a nearly perpendicular shaft, and then driving its burrow at an angle. It is not so devoted to a subterranean existence as either of the preceding animals, and loves to come out of its burrow and bask in the genial sunbeams. It is, however, as wary as the rest of its kindred, and at the least alarm darts off to its subterranean fastnesses. While basking in the warm rays, it generally sits erect, facing the sun, so as to receive every ray.

Our last example of the Shrews is the remarkable animal which is popularly called the Musk Rat (Myogalea moschata), though it is an insectivorous animal, and far removed from the rodents. The river Wolga is the favorite resort of this curious quadruped, which seems to hate dry land as much as the beaver, and to spend the greater part of its time in the water. The Musk Rat is an admirable burrower, making its tunnels of considerable length, some of them extending to a distance of twenty feet. There is only one entrance, which is always below the water; and the burrow rises gradually upward, so that at the extremity the animal is lodged on dry ground. It is instinctively careful to avoid too close a proximity to the surface of the earth, lest the roof of its home might fall, and disclose the interior to the unwelcome light.

The odor which has already been mentioned as belonging to all the members of this family, is in the Musk Rat so powerful as to raise the animal into an article of commerce, the musky scent being nearly as powerful as that produced by the musk deer, and the perfume obtained at a much cheaper rate. The well-known Musk Rat of India belongs also to this odoriferous family.

The Fox is a well-known burrower, its “earth” being familiar to many by sight, and to all by name.

Few persons, who do not know the history of the Fox, would believe it to be capable of forming excavations of such extent. The fore feet of the mole are clearly formed for digging, their sharp claws penetrating the earth, their broad palms acting as shovels, and their powerful muscles giving the needful force. These limbs are essentially used for digging, and are but little employed as means of locomotion. But the Fox is an admirable runner, as any hunter can avouch, and its fore limbs are formed for speed and endurance, their length enduing them with the one quality, and their muscular lightness with the other. Yet, just as the digging limbs of the mole are used for locomotion, and enable the animal to proceed at no contemptible speed, so the running limbs of the Fox are used for digging; and enable the creature to excavate burrows of no contemptible dimensions.

The Arctic Fox (Vulpes lagopus), an animal which dwells in the polar regions, is notable for the extent and structure of the burrow. In order to shield itself from the inclemency of the climate, it digs to a considerable depth; and it is rather remarkable that a solitary burrow is seldom found, twenty or thirty Foxes generally sinking their tunnels in close proximity to each other.

Earth of the Fox.

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Perhaps this semi-sociality may be accounted for in a very simple manner, namely, the suitability of some particular piece of ground, to which the Foxes flock by instinct, and in which they drive as many burrows as the ground will accommodate. This conjecture is the more likely to be true, because sandy spots are always chosen for this purpose, where twenty or thirty burrows are often sunk in close proximity to each other. Such spots would be peculiarly suitable to the Fox, because the sandy soil is not so likely to be hardened by the frost as that of a more compact and watery nature, and would be easily thrown out by the small though powerful feet of the animal.