A Weasel Stor,
In reply to my note on a weasel and its young, Commander Phipps Hornby sends me his tale of a personal encounter. Wheeling his bicycle uphill in Scotland, he met two young weasels, one run over by another bicycle and dead, the other standing by and " repeatedly calling to it, to all appearances with concern and distress." On the Commander's approach, the little beast " screamed with rage" and bit the front tyre of the bicycle again and again. It then disappeared into the grassy bank. This incident supports my contention that even the most predatory of wild animals possess warmth of family feeling, mourn one another's death and do not think of their deceased relations in terms solely of " calory intake."