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Updated: June 6, 2025
To this list may be added as present denizens of the region, and therefore probably belonging to it in ancient times, the lynx, the wildcat, the ratel, the sable, the genet, the badger, the otter, the beaver, the polecat, the jerboa, the rat, the mouse, the marmot, the porcupine, the squirrel, and perhaps the alligator.
Later our ratel sallied forth to "face the world" again.
Then things happened, but that which immediately followed was not a fight; it was not even a spar. The ratel never moved, although he was moved astoundingly. The gnu bull did the moving, and produced the most amazing bit of violent activity one could dream of. It was quite indescribable. A buck-jumping mustang of the most hustling kind would have been as a gentle lamb to it.
That was the magic word the bird, who was a honey-guide by name, had shouted to the ratel, who was a honey-badger, you remember; and honey-bees they were that made the air delirious.
And then, in a flash, before any one had a second's warning to grasp the truth or prepare, with head down, eyes burning in the down-dropped, shaggy head, and upcurved horn-points gleaming in the afternoon sun, he charged, hurling himself, a living, reckless, furious battering-ram, straight at the little ratel. Did that ratel quit quick? Do ratels ever quit an unbeaten foe? I don't know.
The Common, or European badger, need not be here described, since it is familiar to all. The same may be said of the two American badgers, and also that of India, all three of which are very similar in habits and appearance to the common kind. But the African badger, or Ratel, merits a word or two.
Ah, but it was good to see that odd little beast trotting out coolly, head low, tail high, singing his war-song as he rolled along to meet the charging foe so many, many times his own size. Next moment there was a thud somewhat as if some one had punched a pillow and the ratel was flying through the air, high and fine, in a graceful and generous curve.
The terrible bass rumble of his growl grew, and changed tone; his tail lashed faster and faster; and then, all suddenly heralded by a couple of wicked, rasping, coughing grunts, he charged. The ratel moved to meet him to meet him and at a cool jog-trot! What happened then was hard to follow.
Motionless, scowling, with head down, and shrewd, proud eyes smoldering, the lion stood there like an apparition of doom. He was, I fully suspect, letting the effect sink in deliberately. He knew his game. Also, he had a reason. Surely a great poker-player was lost in the lion. But the little ratel met that regal stare squarely and unmoved.
It did not come silently, or suddenly, for it growled full warning in a terrible bass; but the ratel showed contempt, and teeth that glistened beautifully in the red light of the dying fire the sleeping sentry ought to have seen to, but had not. Moreover, it did not come alone, for the camp was a white hunter's camp.
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