St. Nicholas/Volume 32/Number 4/Woodchuck
The Woodchuck
By Silas A. Lottridge
The woodchuck is well known among the farmer boys and girls throughout the Middle and Eastern States, for he is as much a part of the farm as the brook or the orchard.
In form he is far from graceful, especially in the latter part of the summer, when the body becomes very fat and pouchy, The color of the fur varies from a reddish brown to a grizzled gray, or, occasionally, black. The teeth, like those of the squirrel and prairie-dog, are strong and well adapted for cutting.
His summer home is sometimes in a burrow, and sometimes in a wall or stone-heap. The woodchuck of the present day is rather inclined to desert the old home in the woods, where he fed upon tender bark and roots of various kinds, and become a dweller near the clover-patch in the field. lor this reason he has become a special object of persecution by the farmers, and a continual warfare is waged against him from early spring until fall; some are trapped, many are shot, and not a few are destroyed by the farm dogs.
On the Lookout.
The trap is set at the entrance of the burrow, being made fast to a stake which is driven into the ground. The woodchucks are more easily trapped in May or June than later in the season. Old ones frequently become very shy, especially those living in meadows remote from the house and having their burrows in the edge of the woods or bushes near by. Sometimes one of these woodchucks will spring a trap day after day without being caught; or even dig around the trap, much to the disgust of the farmer-boy, who is usually paid a bounty of ten cents for each “chuck” caught. Occasionally the farm dog develops considerable ability in capturing them.
There is no animal that exerts less energy in the course of a year than the woodchuck. He feeds upon the best in the meadow and occasionally in the garden, being very fond of the juicy peas and beans and tender lettuce. Then as winter comes on he forgets all care and worry, crawls into his burrow, and like the bear, falls asleep, not to awaken till Spring.
The cubs usually number four or five, and the date of their birth is not far from the tenth of May, The snug little chamber in which they are born is located two or three feet under the ground and contains a small bed of dry grass gathered the fall before.
The woodchuck family best known to me was the one that lived by the old rail fence just back of the orchard on my father’s farm. The mother introduced herself one morning in the latter part of May, just as old Rover and I had started out for a day’s fishing. As she fled at our approach, Rover followed and disclosed to me the burrow into which she had fled.
More than one day’s sport I got out of that burrow. I took care that Rover did n’t go with me when I made my visits, and, instead of digging out the inmates boy-fashion, I waited for them to come out of their own accord. Several times the old woodchuck appeared; but, feeling sure that there were “more to follow,” I patiently watched and waited. Finally my patience was rewarded, for, one fine morning, five little cubs came tumbling along the narrow passage after their mother lo the entrance of the burrow and looked with their great, beautiful brown eyes upon the outside world. What a marvelous surprise it must have been to them to view the green grass and the beautiful flowers!
A Favorite “Roost.”
When satisfied that there was no danger lurking in the immediate vicinity, the mother led the way into the grass, followed by the cubs, which tumbled along in haste to keep close to her. They tried to imitate her in everything; and when she nibbled a clover-leaf they followed her example, and soon the sharp little teeth had learned to cut the juicy leaves.
The real object of their first outing was soon accomplished—that of filling their stomachs; and then they began playing about in the grass, very much like puppies, but the mother was careful not to let them wander far—from the entrance of their home, for if her trained ear caught the sound of something approaching, she would hustle the little onesinto the burrow. Once the cubs had traveled only a part of the passage before they heard the deep breathing of the dog at the mouth of the tunnel. The exertion and excitement must have made their little hearts beat fast, and for the first time in theirlives they learned what it was to be frightened,
This was only the beginning of their education; for day after day they came out of the burrow, and when they scrambled backsomething had been added to their little stock of woodchuckknowledge. A part of this knowledge was obtained by copying their mother, but by far the greater part came through instinct and experiences of their own.
Some attention was given to the art of climb-ing trees and fences, for from elevated positions they could command a much more extended view of meadow and woodland. Yes, woodchucks really climb fences and small trees, though their first attempts are very clumsy. Never a day passed that the little woodchucks did not receive a lesson in danger-signals. They soon learned to distinguish among the many sounds that came to their ears those that threatened harm from those that meant no harm at all. They learned that a dog is not a dangerous foe, as his presence is usually made known while he is some distance off; but they learned to be very wary when a fox was in the vicinity.
Interested, but not afraid.
I once knew a dog, however, that was a famous woodchuck-hunter. After locating a woodchuck, Shep would watch his movements for a little time; then, while the woodchuck was feeding, he would move directly toward it, keeping his body close to the ground, but would stop instantly and lie very still whenever the woodchuck raised itself on its haunches to look about for danger. When Shep believed himself to be near enough to the entrance of the burrow, he would make a dash for it, and if he reached it first, there was sure to be one less woodchuck to feed upon the clover.
When the early autumn came, the little cubs were pretty nearly grown up; and soon they settled down to the serious business of life, either finding a deserted burrow or digging one for themselves. Within a space of three days the old burrow had but one occupant, the mother.
Danger in the Distance.
Usually each woodchuck has a burrow by itself, but occasionally a pair will live together through the winter. I came upon such a pair, not far from the summer home which had so interested me, and I pleased myself by imagining they were two of my old friends. The spot they had selected for their burrow was on a gentle sunny slope in one corner of the meadow. They had evidently been working little by little on the new burrow before they left the old one, but now they made a regular business of it, and worked with a will. They made rapid progress, for the feet are armed with powerful claws and there is a web between the toes, a combination which makes an excellent pick and shovel. The fore feet are used principally for digging, and the hind ones for throwing backward the loosened earth and stones.
His winter nap.
Showing a woodchuck hibernating. The ground has been cut away, disclosing the interior of the burrow without disturbing the animal.
For some distance from the entrance their burrow inclined downward quite sharply, and then turned slightly upward and continued along beneath the surface for a distance of fifteen feet. There was a small side tunnel, four feet long, which ended in an exit; the main burrow ended in a chamber of considerable size, in which there was a quantity of fine grass for bedding,
When the woodchucks had completed their home they had nothing to do but to eat and doze about in the sun. With a few weeks of this sort of life there came a wonderful change in their appearance; their cheeks were distended, their fur was glossy, and their skins were stretched with fatness.
When September was well advanced they could cal no more, and had only to wait and doze away the time until about the first week in October, when Mother Nature would send them to sleep for the winter. The blood began to flow more slowly through their veins, a drowsiness which they could not resist gradually crept over them, and finally they curled themselves into balls of fur, side by side in their snug retreat, and fell asleep.
A Pair of Hibernating Woodchucks.
Showing another burrow, opened as was that shown in the upper picture.
Warm autumn days followed with their mellow light; Indian summer came and went, but the slumber of the woodchucks was unbroken; and thus the cold, bleak winter passed in one long dream of summer.