This is an endearing, if elusive little creature, made
all the more attractive by its daintiness and cute ear tufts. It is now heavily
protected by law, but as most people know it is under severe threat. This
threat is mainly the invasive grey squirrel, but contrary to popular belief
they do not fight and the greys do not kill the reds deliberately. The first
problem is that the grey squirrel is infinitely more adaptable and is a threat
to the habitat and food supply of the red. The major problem is a disease
carried by the greys, that does not affect them, but is fatal to reds, this is
the parapox virus.
Although
they were once widespread, the best chance of seeing a red squirrel is in
Scotland, central Wales, parts of East Anglia, such as Thetford Forest and the
Isle of Wight, where greys have yet to reach. We also have them in
Northumberland, and were lucky enough to have them in the park in which I
worked. The question of how to protect them and encourage their growth was
always a difficult one. Special feeders are available which allow the red to
feed, but exclude the grey. However the presence of the feeder and the tenacity
of the grey squirrel encourage it to try its luck anyway. Although it can’t
feed, it can, and does leave the parapox virus behind on the feeder, so this
method is a difficult one.
Some
advocate the killing of the greys, but from a personal point of view, such an
attempt is pointless and futile. How would it be possible to separate the two
species? What method of extermination should be used? Poison is no use as it
will kill all manner of animals. Shooting them is one option; but if there is
one skill squirrels possess it is speed and agility. A trained marksman may be
able to hit the target, but the ridiculously short time available to make that
crucial decision as to whether it is red or grey makes this seem impractical to
me.
We
held an archery activity every year, where the children would come along and
make bows from wood we had previously cut. The activity was carried out with the
help of a local archery club, who would bring along targets and modern sports
bows for the children to try. I have to admit, I did sneak off to have a try
myself, and suffered from sore arms for days. I am wandering from the point.
One of the members of the club said that he could happily provide the services
of some of his club to shoot the grey squirrels in the park. I did manage to
bite my lip, but the idea of a group of archers running around the woods
shooting up at trees was as amusing as it was absurd. The head ranger was
remarkably tactful in his refusal of the offer...The debate as to how to deal
with the problem remains heavily disputed.
The
scientific name reveals the past commonality of the species Sciurus is simply
Latitn for squirrel, while vulgaris means common.The name squirrel can be
traced back to Greek skíourous meaning ‘shadow
tail’. The red squirrel does indeed have a remarkably bushy tail, but does the
shadow refer to this, or is it an allusion to the elusiveness of the little
creature?
The
red squirrel has not always been considered the lovable creature it is today,
and its ‘temper’, demonstrated by harsh chattering has long been known about.
He
sees me, and at once, swift as a bird
Ascends
the neigb’ring beech; there whisks his brush,
And
perks his ears, and stamps and scolds aloud,
With
all the prettiness of feigned alarm.
(William
Cowper, ‘The Task’)
Red
squirrels may have a temper, but they are remarkably vulnerable creatures and
are known to literally die of fright. I was unfortunate enough, on my first
patrol of the park, to find a dead red squirrel. There was not a mark on it and
it showed no signs of the parapox virus. I contacted the head ranger on the
radio and asked if he wanted the animal taken back to the centre, so that it
could be sent for an autopsy. I never did find out what happened to that
squirrel...On another occasion we discovered an ill squirrel and one of the
council staff agreed to take it home to nurse it back to health. A suitable box
was lined and the animal loaded into the car. Whatever the illness had been the
squirrel recovered very quickly, because it broke out of the box and made a mad
dash around the unfortunate man’s car, causing great consternation, but at least
not leading to an accident.
Although now protected, red
squirrels were heavily persecuted, partly for the perceived damage they did to
trees and partly for purely fantastical notions. Edwar topsell claimed that
‘They are very harmful and will eat all manner of woollen garments.’ He continues:
Groups of men
and boys would stone it from tree to tree
until they had
forced it to one that stood alone.
There it was
stoned until, in an effort to escape it
dropped to the
ground, usually to succumb to a
shower of
stones. Some years ago the squirrels that
added to the
attraction of Richmond Park were shot by
the keepers to
prevent them being killed in this way
by gangs of
youths coming from London.
This would seem a rather
extreme form of protection and perhaps throws doubt on my belief that they are
simply too fast to hit? Fortunately the visitors to the park were interested in
the red squirrel as the beautiful animal it is. We used to host ‘Squirrel
Trails’ (at least there were no questionable rhymes in the name of this
activity.) The chances of any of the visitors seeing a squirrel were, of
course, very remote, so we worked around this. First of all we would ‘teach’
the children to walk silently in the woods. Put down the heel, then the outside
of the foot, followed by the inside and finally the ball. They would then be
taken to a spot, which we knew held an unoccupied squirrel drey to show them
how they lived. We’d discuss what they eat and how they hid food for the harsh
times of winter. The part of the activity that was the most fun for us (and the
least work) was to get the children to hide a stash of nuts somewhere to see if
they could find them again when the activity was over. This wasn’t frivolity or
laziness, it was designed to demonstrate the difficulties faced by the little
creatures. After the nuts were hidden, we’d wander down to the squirrel feeding
area to show how we fed the squirrels, and not once during my time there did we
see one on this activity. Perhaps it was because a crowd of over-excited
children are enough to frighten a grown ranger, let alone a little squirrel.
Finally it was time to find the nuts and success varied here as some children
had hidden them next to a landmark, while others had planted them randomly.
The
squirrel hunt used to be a part of rural Boxing Day or St Stephen’s day
celebrations, though some areas preferred Good Friday. Men would take the day
off work and head off into the forest with sticks to hunt squirrel and other
small animals. This would be followed by a celebratory supper at the local inn
and the squirrels would be taken home to be eaten! On the same day, in the
parish of Easling in Kent, the same
pass-time was more an excuse for rural hooliganism:
“...the labourers and lower
kinds of people, assembling together formed a
lawless rabble, and provided
with guns, poles and other such weapons
spent the greatest part of
the day in parading through the woods and grounds
, with loud shoutings. Under
the pretence of demolishing the squirrels, some few
of which they killed, they
destroyed numbers of hares, pheasants, partridges, and in
short whatever came their
way, breaking down hedges and doing much other
mischief, and in the
evenings betaking themselves to the alehouses, finished
their career there, as is
usual with such sort of gentry.
(John Brand, 1900)
The history of eating squirrel is probably as old as the
presence of the creature. Some rural populations are believed still to eat grey
squirrel, though few would be willing to eat it. The taste is said to be much
like that of rabbit, but as I have never eaten rabbit, I can’t really be any
more help than that.
Squirrels are also adept
swimmers (though for some reason I find this odd) and they no doubt climb onto
floating logs when the opportunity presents itself. This is very likely the
source of the belief that they use their tails as sails. In more modern times
the myth can most clearly be found in the work of Beatrix Potter, who
illustrated The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin with a whole group of squirrels setting
sail in this way.
Most parts of the country
have their own rhyme about the squirrel. In the Cotswolds for example:
A squirrel can hop from Swell to Stow
Without resting his foot or wetting his toe.
In Warwickshire it was
claimed that a squirrel could hop from one side of the county to the other,
without ever coming down from the trees. It would take some ridiculously long
leaps today to complete this, as Dutch Elm disease has taken its toll, and
woodland management has become more intense. In Charnwood Forest, in
Leicestershire a squirrel may hop for six miles, from tree to tree without
touching the ground.
Seeing a squirrel negotiate
its way from tree to tree and traversing branches that appear too thin to
support the weight of anything is a truly amazing and spectacular sight, and
one I feel honoured to have witnessed. You would rarely see them through the
day, as brightly clad and boisterous visitors tramped through the park
wondering why they weren’t seeing any of the wildlife we claimed to have living
in the park, but early in the morning, at bird and squirrel feeding time,
especially during early spring (when they are pairing for mating and there are
few leaves on the trees to conceal them,) then you may just see one.
I’ll not mention any names
(for fear of being sued, or having my ankles bitten) but we did have a
television programme filmed in the park. It was to be on the red squirrel and
was to be presented by a well-known and respected natural history presenter and
personality. This personality seems to have the magical power of being able to
find the right place at the right time to find and talk about all manner of
creatures. Sadly it is a trick, in that it uses the only true way to see nature
at work – patience. A film crew was installed near the squirrel feeders and
spent three days there before a squirrel decided to show itself, the programme
was very different and it appeared that the presenter had immediately found
this elusive little creature.
Our working hours varied
greatly. In the winter they could be as short as 9am till 5pm, while in the
summer we were often there until 7pm or 8pm. One day in the early spring, I received
a request to come in and lead a guided walk for a church group at 6 in the
evening. I didn’t have a problem with doing it, but I had no brief as to what
they were interested in seeing or hearing. When I met them, they were a
wonderful, laid back group. When I heard what they were interested in my heart
sank. You’ve probably guessed it – they were interested in red squirrels. Well
I certainly couldn’t teach a group of adults the silent walk, so I showed them
the squirrel drey and talked about squirrels. We discussed the threats they
face and the possible solutions as we wandered down to the feeders. I was just
about to give the standard talk, when a pair of squirrels emerged from a nearby
tree and hopped across the trees in front of us. I think the visitors were
almost as stunned as I was. The little creatures disappeared as quickly as they
had come, but we had seen them and that was quite of an honour.
We continued our walk and
chat, heading down to the river when from our bank a kingfisher shot out. The
dying sun caught its colours beautifully and I almost fainted. You may not
enter the world of the ranger for the money, but the richest person in the
world couldn’t buy that!
