ONCE, when I was troubled by mice stealing the newly-sown
peas which I had neglected to treat with red lead or paraffin, 1 foolishly set two or three mousetraps among the twigs that were to cover the young pea shoots and caught not mice but sparrows. Needless to say, I stopped setting traps at once, for a trap that breaks the hack of a mouse can as easily hold a small bird by the foot or even by its beak and inflict awful torture on the captive. 1 thought of the concern I felt over catching a sparrow in a mousetrap when I read the other day of an eagle that was destroyed by a trap, although in this case I doubt whether the trapper could salve his conscience by saying he had no intention of harming a bird. The account of the happen* ing was in the Weekly Scotsman and des- cribed how the eagle, with a large steel trap dangling from its foot, was seen flying low over Loch Ness during a recent blizzard. The bird gained height to clear Fort Augustus Abbey flagpole and then, after frantic efforts to free itself, finally plunged into the loch, the weight of the trap dragging it beneath the water. I hope the man who set the trap read the news item and reconsidered himself and as a civilised being.