Weihaiwei, Dec. 20, 1939.—On my way up from Shanghai I heard two interesting stories about the Golden Weasel (really a Mink) which show that this interesting little animal still hangs round the outskirts of Shanghai, even if he has been driven from its centre. The first scene took place in the Jessfield Zoo when an early visitor found a Weasel, clinging to the wire-netting of one of the smaller aviaries, staring intently at the terrified birds within; every bird was stock-still, with head lowered, staring back in terror at the Weasel, and it would be interesting to know how long this process would have continued if the Weasel had not been disturbed.
This was apparently an example of birds being fascinated by their natural attackers, and it would be even more interesting to know if similar results could have been obtained in the open—a question which the next story throws some light on. Another man passing the lily-pond at Jessfield noticed a Shrike behaving in a cular manner, swooping down from "a tree close' to the ground, then flying up again and returning to its perch hissing and chattering went quietly over to investigate: he found a Weasel rolling over on its back and playing like a kitten—for even Weasels can be kitten-like in their idle moments when there are not a few spots of murder to be done; the Shrike kept swooping at the Weasel (without touching it) and my friend got the impression that the bird was "fascinated" and thus forced continually to approach its fascinator: I do not believe in this theory: at all, for the Shrike was behaving exactly in the way that all such birds do when they are trying to frighten away an enemy much larger than themselves, and know that the larger enemy (e.g. an Owl) is unlikely to attack them. And, of course, the Shrike knew that the Weasel could not fly.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.