Richard Williamson December 1

I had a demonstration of the mole's tenacity, strength and hunting prowess this summer when after a heavy deluge worms came up to the surface of the lawn. A mole started working through the grass roots, tearing its way along like a furry little chainsaw. All at once a big worm popped out of the ground in terror half-a-metre ahead of its pursuer, waving about like a snake with its head well up in the air.

Immediately the mole surfaced and shooting forward like a chameleon's tongue caught the worm by the tail, burrowing out of sight within a few seconds, gripping its prize.

That prize might as well be a mouse, shrew, lizard, frog or small bird. A nest of young skylarks for instance would be eaten by "the gentleman in black," also called "glutton, bully, pig, and nuisance".

Moles interested the Victorians, who likened them to the hard-working but conveniently silent underground army of coalminers that maintained the wealth of the cities.

(DROPCAP_3]Moles were frequently kept in captivity, being easily tamed and biddable like a dog to food. Then the rapacious appetite could be observed easily. One captive mole, within 24 hours, devoured a large slowworm, a large snail, two chrysalids and a snake 32 inches log, leaving only the skin, bones and shell.

Richard Williamson's Nature Trails appears every week in the WSG. To read the full version of this article, see December 1 issue.