WEASEL: ferocious predator a blur as it closes in on its victim

LIKE a tiny tiger in its ferocity, the weasel strikes terror into the shy inhabitants of hedgerows or fields when it sets out to hunt them.

Savage in its pursuit of prey, the bigger male still measures just eight inches long without its stubby tail and weighs about four ounces.

Whether shooting across the road like an elongated mouse, or bounding excitedly after its quarry, the weasel is usually moving too fast for close study.

Described memorably by one observer as looking like an 'animated cigar', the weasel boasts a beautiful chestnut coat which gives way to a milky white underside.

Still widespread across the country, it nests in any available crevice, giving birth to five or six young at a time.

Smaller than its equally vicious cousin, the stoat, the weasel's dexterity and acrobatics are legendary.

Mice and voles are its main prey but weasels will also take rabbits and rats when they can overpower them.

Nesting songbirds are another favourite target and its ultra thin body means the weasel has no difficulty slipping inside most garden nestboxes. Even boxes whose entrance holes measure less than an inch and a quarter in diameter are not safe.

Because of this talent, weasels rarely endear themselves to bird-loving householders, especially any who have been following the progress of a mother bird and chicks only to find them slaughtered and eaten.

Strong jaws and sharp teeth help the weasel to kill most of its prey instantly with a crushing bite to the back of the head or neck - just like a tiger.

Moreover, again like a big jungle cat, the weasel is courageous and fearsome in defence of its young.

I once read of a fox spotted with a furious female weasel clamped to its throat after disturbing her nest.

Unwilling to let go, the weasel dangled from the fox's throat while the disconcerted bigger animal tried everything to shake it off.

Eventually, the weasel dropped to the ground and the fox retreated.

I have never seen anything so bizarre myself but I did once spot a weasel pursuing a mouse in and out of a dry stone wall.

The hunt was over in seconds with pursued and pursuer mostly a blur of movement.

But it was possible to make out the smaller, greyer shape of the mouse desperate to get away and the longer, brown shape of the weasel determined to make a kill.

As my eyes struggled to follow the drama, the pair disappeared for the last time into the wall.

A shrill squeak of pain rang out and that was that.

I hung around for a few minutes hoping to spot the weasel emerge with its prize but it never did.

Probably scenting me for the first time, it no doubt preferred to eat its grisly meal in private.

Pampered household cats have been known to limp home in shock after coming off worse in a fight with a weasel, their belief that they had stumbled on a harmless mouse being sadly misplaced.

Yet weasels don't have it all their own way and many are killed on the roads or by larger predators willing to take them on in a fierce battle.

It has always struck me as unfair that sly and treacherous human beings should be named after this bold little animal, or that other humans should be said to use 'weasel words' when they try to mislead.

Weasels are pitiless assassins.

Of that there is no doubt.

But slyness and treachery do not figure in the mindset of this teeny killer.