Speaking of Nature: Motivated mother mink
It was a beautiful morning in late April and I was out exploring a trail around a quiet pond. The trail around the pond was well maintained and because it was so early in the spring there were no leaves on the trees. This is what allowed me to notice a large number of Eastern Painted Turtles that were sunning themselves on the trunk of a fallen tree and it was thoughts of photos that diverted me off the trail and closer to the water’s edge.
In the end, the turtles were just a bit too far away for really nice photos, but it was because of this little detour that I happened to hear a splash in the water to my left. Turtles tend to slip into the water rather quietly, so a larger kerplunk caught my attention immediately. I scanned the pond in the direction of the sound and very quickly noticed something brown and furry swimming in the water. Aha! A muskrat, I thought. Then the animal emerged from the water and I discovered the error in my identification. This long and slender animal was not a muskrat. It was a mink!
The pond was one of the manmade landscape features that had been established by the Civilian Conservation Corps back in the 1930s. If it were just a bit larger I might call it a lake, but the stone earthen dam with the stone spillway had CCC written all over it. It was clear that the mink was heading for the stream on the other side of the dam and after it disappeared over the bank I hustled over to the same spot to see if the mink was still in sight. No luck. The mink was gone.
I returned to the pond where I spent some time photographing swallows (definitely a topic for its own column) and this turned out to be a tremendous decision on my part because as I turned to continue on my walk I found myself face to face with the mink. The little creature had paused to take stock of me and in doing so allowed me to take a photo. Then I noticed that the mink had something in its mouth. What on Earth had it caught?
Once before, while visiting Newport, Rhode Island, I had been in a similar situation with a mink and it was obvious that it had caught a fish. This time, the mink had clearly caught a mammal of some sort and it was fairly clear that whatever the animal was, it was a baby. Had the mink found a nest of rabbits? What exactly was that?
Off the mink went, hugging the pond’s shoreline until it disappeared in the vicinity of the fallen tree that was still bejeweled with basking turtles. That alone would have been a wonderful experience, but the photo gods had decided that my luck was not yet over. Once again I was captivated by the swallows and this went on long enough for me to notice that the mink was coming back. Now, fully prepared and perfectly positioned, the photos were better.
Up and over the dam the mink went and this time I was close enough to follow in time to see the mink disappear into a gap between some of the immense stone blocks at the back edge of the spillway. Then, to my great surprise, the mink reemerged with another “something” in its mouth. I took photos as the mink crossed the flat stone spillway. I backed off and positioned myself in an ideal spot to photograph the mink and was delighted to see that it took exactly the same route. This was amazing!
I had already seen the mink do the same thing twice, so after it disappeared into the woods I remained to see if it would happen again … and it did. The mink eventually repeated this maneuver a total of four times and on the fourth and final pass in front of me I managed to take a photo that revealed the identity of the mystery animals in the mink’s mouth. They were baby minks! This was a female mink who was moving her own babies from one den to another.
Suddenly I understood the urgency of the mink’s movements. Except for the one baby (or kit) that she had in her mouth, her other kits were alone and unguarded. This was a highly motivated mother mink and she was literally galloping along in an effort to get this risky enterprise over as quickly as possible. The little bit of data that let me fully understand what was going on is present in today’s photo, which is one of the last that I took of the mother mink. Like all predatory mammals, this mink had an impressive set of canine teeth meant for killing prey. If you look closely, however, you can see that Mother Mink’s canines are in front of her baby; holding it securely without harming it.
I eventually abandoned any hope of seeing a fifth trip after about 10 minutes. It seems that the mink had four kits and they had all been safely transported to new quarters. The female must have been exhausted (imagine running a 5K with a baby in your mouth for half of the time) and I imagine that she was taking a well-deserved rest. I paused for a moment to reflect on the extraordinary luck of the entire situation. From my first photo to the last I had spent about 30 minutes watching the mink move her babies. Had I come along just a bit earlier, or a smidgen later, I would have missed the entire drama. The photo gods are truly great. All hail Nikonus and Iso!
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 27 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the U.S. Forest Service, the Nature Conservancy and the Massachusetts State Parks and he currently teaches high school biology and physics. For more in formation visit his website at www.speakingofnature.com, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.
Daily Hampshire Gazette
