moors are snow-covered much later than is usually the case in Cheshire, and the white dress would be a distinct advantage to the Hares, but on the milder bare slopes of these English moors it only tends to make them conspicuous. When the Longdendale moors were snow-covered we have crossed them without seeing a single Hare, though their tracks were visible in the snow in every direction. Again, in summer the grey-brown pelage makes them almost invisible, and we very seldom see any. This was not the case this March, for the white spots on the hillsides were noticeable from a great distance against the dark background of brown bracken, ling, and millstone-grit rock, and they certainly were "the most conspicuous objects in the landscape." The Hares were squatting at the entrance to holes among the stones, or under the shelter of overhanging rocks, and, when we approached, remained perfectly still, evidently instinctively trusting to their protective colouration. They crouched when we got near, laving their ears back, and allowing us to approach within a few yards. One did not move until we were only six yards away, and another let us get within ten yards before it bolted. We stood within this short distance, watching their eyes following our movements, and we could see the wind blowing the loose hair from their backs. The forms where they had been sitting were full of shed hair.
If it were possible for the Hares to reason,[1] it must be evident that they would be conscious that their colour was not in harmony with their surroundings; but it seems perfectly plain that they had been taught by heredity that their safety depended upon their remaining still, and they had no idea of any change of conditions.[2] It might be argued that in twenty years the survival of the habit of remaining still for protection would have been so
- ↑ R. Kearton ('Nature and a Camera,' p. 176) narrates a practice of the Hare which he well describes as "like a reasoned action deliberately executed to mislead prowing enemies that track them by the scent left in their footprints."—Ed.
- ↑ A Woodcock has been observed to reason under such conditions. Mr. F.M. Chapman, of the American Museum of Natural History, New York, in a lecture on 'Birds in Nature,' remarks:—"That the Woodcock appreciates the value of its costume of brown and black is, he thinks, fairly proved by the experience of a friend of his. Early one spring morning he found a nest of this species occupied by one of the birds. Approaching the bird cautiously, he managed to stroke its plumage without its taking fright, so great was its faith in its protective colours. He also succeeded in taking a photograph of the bird, placing the camera a few feet from it. Focussing was accomplished with difficulty, and only by using the eye of the bird as a focal point. The picture is a veritable puzzle. The bird is invisible to most eyes, though plain enough when once distinguished. While the bird was sitting a slight snow fell. The brown leaves which before had aided its concealment were now covered with a white mantle, and the bird became a conspicuous dark object against this snowy background. It now had no confidence whatever in its colouring, and took wing as soon as a person appeared on its horizon."—Ed.
