THIS month I watched a female weasel carry her seven young kits, one by one, to the safety of a new nest in my garden.

Seeing this behaviour ranks among the most spectacular sightings I’ve had in a life-time of watching wildlife.

Although weasels are common mammals, they are so small and so elusive that it is very rare to get more than a fleeting glimpse of one before it disappears into the undergrowth.

I’ve been following this particular weasel via a series of hidden cameras since the onset of spring and have been privy to her most intimate behaviour; including the moment she was subjected to the species’ brutally aggressive courting ritual – the male literally picked her up and carried her off by the scruff of her neck to mate.

After this episode I followed her movements closely and watched with expectant excitement the moment she made a nest in a chamber I had put out for her in the garden.

She didn’t actually use this chamber to give birth in, but moved her new family into it when they were only 10 days old. Since then, she has moved her young back to their birth place.

I suspect she does this both for safety and because after a while the nests become infested with maggots and flies.

I caught the moment she moved them on the CCTV camera in my purpose-built chamber and was astounded at the precision with which she picked each kit up by the scruff of its neck. Her movements were firm and direct, like any no-nonsense mother’s would be, but what was really fascinating was how she was able to locate the exact spot on the back of the neck of each kit to safely sink her teeth into and lift. Bearing in mind that it was pitch black in the underground nest and each kit measured no more than an inch long.

Over time she has become quite used to my presence and now barely glances at me and my camera equipment as she rushes about her business.

But it took a lot of patience and determined persistence to get to this point. My first challenge was to persuade such an elusive creature to make my garden its home.

I began by getting her to feed here regularly and made a feeding box for her. I baited this with dead mice or voles every day. Sometimes I dragged the bait over the ground in front of the box to leave a scent.

But her visits were so quick I couldn’t get my camera ready in time, so I tied down the bait with mini cable ties to slow her down and set up a motion sensor rigged to an alarm to alert me of her arrival.

When the male appeared and began to compete with her for food, I decided it was time to make a nesting chamber so that I could film the next generation. I made this out of a hollow hawthorn log and hid a camera in its hollow middle.

Each day I tied a dead mouse with a cable tie onto a dead grass stem and threaded it about six inches down the pipes to attract the female weasel into the nest.

She has since moved the kits out of this chamber, but not before I got the chance to watch her as she nursed them.

Now that she trusts me enough, I am able to sit outside her new nest waiting for the moment the kits emerge for the first time.

I’m expecting that when they make their first playful explorations it will give me fresh ideas for a new composition.