The Cotton-Tail Rabbit

Teacher’s Story

“The Bunnies are a feeble folk whose weakness is their strength.
To shun a gun a Bun will run to almost any length.”

—Oliver Herford.

T is well for Molly Cotton-tail and her family that they have learned to shun more than guns for almost every predatory animal and bird makes a dinner of them on every possible occasion. But despite these enemies, moreover, with the addition of guns, men and dogs, the cotton-tail lives and flourishes in our midst. A “Molly” raised two families last year in a briar-patch back of our garden on the Cornell Campus, where dogs of many breeds abound; and after each fresh fall of snow this winter we have been able to trace our bunny neighbors in their night wanderings around the house, beneath the spruces and in the orchard. The track consists of two long splashes, paired, and between and a little behind them, two smaller ones; the rabbit uses its front feet as a boy uses a vaulting pole and lands both hind feet on each side and ahead of them; owing to the fact that the bottoms of the feet are hairy the print is not clear-cut. When the rabbit is not in a hurry it has a peculiar lope, but when frightened it makes long jumps. The cotton-tails are night wanderers and usually remain hidden during the day. In summer, they feed on clover or grass or other juicy herbs and show a fondness for sweet apples and fresh cabbage; in our garden last summer Molly was very considerate. She carefully pulled all the grass out of the garden-cress bed, leaving the salad for our enjoyment. In winter, the long, gnawing teeth of the cotton-tail are sometimes used to the damage of fruit trees and nursery stock since the rabbits are obliged to feed upon bark in order to keep alive.

The long, strong hind legs and the long ears tell the whole bunny story. Ears to hear the approach of the enemy, and legs to propel the listener by long jumps to a safe retreat. The attitude of the ears is a good indication of the bunny’s state of mind; if they are set back to back and directed backward, they indicate placidity, but a placidity that is always on guard; if lifted straight up they signify attention and anxiety; if one is bent forward and the other backward the meaning is: “Now just where did that sound come from?” When running or when resting in the form, the ears are laid back along the neck. When the cotton-tail stands up on its haunches with both ears erect, it looks very tall indeed.

Not only are the ears always alert, but also the nose; the nostrils are partially covered and in order to be always sure of getting every scent they wabble constantly, the split upper lip aiding in this performance; when the rabbit is trying to get a scent it moves its head up and down in a sagacious, apprehensive manner.

The rabbit has an upper and lower pair of incisors like other rodents, but on the upper jaw there is a short incisor on each side of the large teeth; these are of no use now but are inherited from some ancestor which found them useful. There are at the back of each side of the upper jaw six grinding teeth, and five on each side of the lower jaw. The split upper lip allows the free use of the upper incisors. The incisors are not only used for taking the bark from trees, but also for cutting grass and other food. The rabbit has a funny way of taking a stem of grass or clover at the end and with much wabbling of lips, finally taking it in, meanwhile chewing it with a sidewise motion of the jaws. The rabbits’ whiskers are valuable as feelers, and are always kept on the qui vive for impressions; when two cotton-tails meet each other amicably, they rub whiskers together. The eyes are large and dark and placed on the bulge at the side of the head, so as to command the view both ways. Probably a cotton-tail winks, but I never caught one in the act.

The strong hind legs of the rabbit enable it to make prodigious jumps, of eight feet or more; this is a valuable asset to an animal that escapes its enemies by running. The front feet are short and cannot be turned inward like those of the squirrel, to hold food. There are five toes on the front feet, and four on the hind feet; the hair on the bottom of the feet is a protection, much needed by an animal which sits for long periods upon the snow. When sleeping, the front paws are folded under and the rabbit rests on the entire hind foot, with the knee bent, ready for a spring at the slightest alarm; when awake, it rests on the hind feet and front toes; and when it wishes to see if the coast is clear, it rises on its hind feet, with front paws drooping.

The cotton-tail has a color well calculated to protect it from observation; it is brownish-gray on the back and a little lighter along the sides, grayish under the chin and whitish below; the ears are edged with black, and the tail when raised shows a large, white fluff at the rear. The general color of the rabbit fits in with natural surroundings; since the cotton-tail often escapes its enemies by “freezing,” this color makes the scheme work well. I once saw a marsh hare, on a stone in a brook, freezing most successfully. I could hardly believe that a living thing could seem so much like a stone; only its bright eyes revealed it to us.

The rabbit cleans itself in amusing ways. It shakes its feet, one at a time, with great vigor and rapidity to get off the dirt and then licks them clean. It washes its face with both front paws at once. It scratches its ear with the hind foot, and pushes it forward so that it can be licked; it takes hold of its fur with its front feet to pull it around within reach of the tongue.

The cotton-tail does not dig a burrow, but sometimes occupies the deserted burrow of a woodchuck or skunk. Its nest is called a “form,” which simply means a place beneath a cover of grass or briars, where the grass is beaten down or eaten out for a space large enough for the animal to sit. The mother makes a soft bed for the young, using grass and her own hair for the purpose; and she constructs a coarse felted coverlet, under which she tucks her babies with care, every time she leaves them. Young rabbits are blind at first, but when about three weeks old, are sufficiently grown to run quite rapidly. Although there may be five or six in a litter, yet there are so many enemies that only a few escape.

Fox, mink, weasel, hawk, owl and snake all relish the young cotton-tail if they can get it. Nothing but its runways through the briars can save it. These roads wind in and out and across, twisting and turning perplexingly; they are made by cutting off the grass stems, and are just wide enough for the rabbit’s body. However, a rabbit has weapons and can fight if necessary; it leaps over its enemy, kicking it on the back fiercely with its great hind feet. Mr. Seton tells of this way of conquering the black snake, and Mr. Sharp saw a cat completely vanquished by the same method. The rabbit can also bite, and when two males are fighting, they bite each other savagely. Mr. E. W. Cleeves told me of a Belgian doe which showed her enmity to cats in a peculiar way. She would run after any cats that came in sight, butting them like a billy-goat. The cats soon learned her tricks, and would climb a tree as soon as they caught sight of her. The rabbit’s sound of defiance, is thumping the ground with the strong hind foot. Some have declared that the front feet are used also for stamping; although I have heard this indignant thumping more than once, I could not see the process. The cotton-tail is a hare, while the common domestic rabbit is a true rabbit. The two differ chiefly in the habits of nesting; the hares rest and nest in forms, while the rabbit makes burrows, digging rapidly with the front feet.

Not the least of tributes to the rabbit’s sagacity, are the negro folk-stories told by Uncle Remus, wherein Bre’r Rabbit, although often in trouble, is really the most clever of all the animals. I have often thought when I have seen the tactics which rabbits have adopted to escape dogs, that we in the North have under-rated the cleverness of this timid animal. In one instance at least that came under our observation, a cotton-tail led a dog to the verge of a precipice, then doubled back to safety, while the dog went over, landing on the rocks nearly three hundred feet below.