m!&t;mi^'-i 
 
 THE UFE STORY 
 OF AN OTTER 
 
 JCTREGARTHEN 
 
Ht^aca. Nem ^atii 
 
 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE 
 
 FISKE ENIX)WMENT FUND 
 
 THE BEQUEST OF 
 
 WILLARD FISKE 
 
 LIBRARIAN OF THE UNIVERSITY 1869-1883 
 1905 
 
QL 795 !08f78 "'*"""" '^'^ 
 iiiiiniii ln!i9iX.9!f. .M.otter / 
 
 3 1924 024 785 184 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924024785184 
 
THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
OTTER CUBS. 
 
 Reproduced by kind permission of Her Grace the Duchess of Bedford. 
 
 Frontispiece. 
 
THE LIFE STORY OF 
 AN OTTER 
 
 BY J. C. TREGARTHEN 
 
 ADTHOR OF ' WIDD LIFE AT THE LAND'S END ' AND 
 ' THE LIFE STORY OP A FOX ' 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 NEW YORK 
 HEARST'S INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY CO. 
 
TO 
 MY WIFE 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The otter has long seemed to me worthy of 
 serious attention, if only for the successful 
 struggle it has waged against those extermin- 
 ating agencies under which the badger, the wild- 
 cat, the polecat and the marten have aU but 
 succumbed. 
 
 Its survival throughout Great Britain is due, 
 partly to its endurance and resources when 
 hunted, partly to qualities and habits which 
 differentiate it from the other creatures of the 
 wild. Its scent, for instance, unlike that of fox 
 or badger, to which every tike and lurcher will 
 stoop, is noticed by few dogs save hounds that 
 have been trained to own it ; and the outlawed 
 beast thus gains a certain immunity from destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 Then the otter is a great wanderer, who not 
 only traverses long stretches of coast and follows 
 streams and rivers to their source, but crosses 
 hills and even mountains to reach its fishing- 
 
 vii b 
 
X PREFACE 
 
 at any length for the first time ; and my hope is 
 to bring about a wider and deeper interest in 
 the animal, and be the means of removing some 
 of the prejudice which unjustly attaches to it. 
 
 I take this opportunity of thanking the Duchess 
 of Bedford and Mr. J. G. Millais for their 
 courtesy in allowing me the use of most valuable 
 illustrations. 
 
 tsegonebeis, 
 Sanckeed, 
 
 West Cornwall. 
 March 10, 1909. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 OBAPTXR 
 
 I. IN THE NURSEKY 
 
 11. EAItLY TEAIVING 
 
 III, THE FIRST TREK 
 
 IV. AT THE CREEK 
 V. SEA AND MARSH 
 
 VI. THE FAMILY BROKEN UP 
 
 Vn. THE OTTER AT THE TARN 
 
 VIII. THE OTTER AND HIS MATE 
 
 IX. FROST AND FAMINE 
 
 X. TRACKED 
 
 XI. BACK IN THE OLD HAUNTS 
 
 Xn. THE LONG TRAIL 
 
 INDEX 
 
 1 
 10 
 21 
 39 
 
 53 
 69 
 83 
 104 
 120 
 131 
 145 
 166 
 
 187 
 
 XI 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 OTTER CUBS - • . . 
 
 frontispiece 
 
 HUEEYING HOME 
 
 tojace 
 
 page 8 
 
 THE KIVER BELOW THE MILL 
 
 
 18 
 
 THE WILD COAST-LINE - 
 
 
 62 
 
 HOUNDS SWIMMING AN OTTER - 
 
 
 78 
 
 THE OTTER . - . t 
 
 
 83 
 
 ON HIS WAY UP THE CREEK 
 
 
 107 
 
 HIS LAST SALMON 
 
 
 173 
 
 xni 
 
THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IN THE NUESERY 
 
 It was in a morass in a hollow of the foothills 
 that he was littered. His mother chose this in- 
 accessible spot for the security it promised to her 
 helpless young. In the heart of the quagmire 
 they would be safe, she thought, from floods and 
 — what was still more important to her — ^from 
 man. She could not find a hover quite to her 
 likings but in lack of a better, she chose a ledge 
 where, in an angle of the stream that drained the 
 bog, the bank furnished a screen from the biting 
 wind which blew up the valley and soughed over 
 the uplands. After enlarging the ledge into a 
 shelf, she shaped the excavation for the nest, 
 which she fashioned out of dead rushes and 
 withered grasses, and which she lined with the 
 softest products that Nature oiFered her — tatteted 
 reed-plumes and seed-down of the bulrush. Night 
 
 1 
 
2 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 after night she ransacked the waste in quest of 
 these rare spoils, lest the rude structure should be 
 wanting in cosiness for the cubs which, even before 
 it was quite finished, were deposited in it. 
 
 There were only two to share her affection — 
 the intense affection of the hunted creature for 
 its offspring. The dread of being reft of them 
 haunted her from their birth, but happily the 
 mites themselves knew no fear, knew nothing 
 but th6 warm, furry mother who fondled and 
 suckled them. Whelps and dam were as one, 
 for she seldom left them save to get food ; and 
 this she sought and devoured with feverish 
 energy, that she might the sooner return to them. 
 She foraged sometimes, it is true, in the morass 
 itself; but usually she had to go to the river at 
 the foot of the long, undulating slope, and though 
 the inconvenience of having the fishing-ground so 
 far away was often borne in upon her, she put up 
 with it, and never for a moment thought of 
 moving the ciibs from the safe keeping of the bog. 
 
 Under the grey skies, the rain and the sleet of 
 January, few more cheerless scenes could be 
 found than the moorland and the morass within 
 it ; yet there in the hollowed bank the otter and 
 the wee, blind, downy-coated creatures she had 
 entrusted to the chill mercies of midwinter, lay 
 nestled in the snuggest of hovers. And the 
 
CUBS BASKING 8 
 
 grim season would relent at times, breaking into 
 bright days when the sun bestowed its warmth 
 on the cold, sodden earth. Then the morass and 
 all the hills about it were bathed in the glow, 
 and the swollen stream, visible over the edge of 
 the nest, glistened like silver. Quick to accept 
 Nature's bounty for the winterlings, the otter, 
 when satisfied that no eye observed her, took 
 them between her lips, carried them from the 
 gloomy hover, and laid them on a tussock which 
 screened her where she crouched, ready to 
 protect them. There the cubs stretched them- 
 selves and basked with quiet content in the 
 health -giving rays. But when the sun passed 
 behind the clouds, they would complain at the 
 withdrawal of the warmth, and raise their blink- 
 ing eyes to the sky as if protesting to a second 
 mother against such unfeeling treatment. 
 
 For before this they had opened their eyes — 
 black, restless eyes, like those which kept constant 
 watch and ward over their safety. The otter, of 
 course, managed to get a little sleep, but it was 
 of the lightest. At the startled note of a bird, or 
 even the sudden rustling of the reeds when a gust 
 shook themi her head would pop up from the 
 grasses concealing her ; and she generally made a 
 keen inspection of the sky-line and of the ground 
 within her ken before she lay down again and 
 
4 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 snatched another forty winks. But as morning 
 after morning passed without intrusion of aught 
 to warrant her suspicions, her vigilance gradually 
 relaxed ; and one noon, when she was very weary 
 from the night's foraging, she curled up and fell 
 sound asleep at her post. 
 
 Whilst she slept, a buzzard, mewing as he 
 quartered the ground beneath, espied the cubs, 
 and thinking they were at his mercy, stocked to 
 seize the easy prey. He was about to lay hold 
 of the smaller cub when the otter, awakened by 
 the strange cry, rose from her hiding-place and 
 confronted him. At sight of her the bird, taken 
 aback, thought only of escape, but the mother 
 was bent on avenging the attempted wrong. 
 Quick as lightning she sprang at him, and, had 
 not the hummock given way beneath her, she 
 must have gripped him despite the frantic down- 
 strokes of the big wings which lifted him well 
 beyond her second leap. Her fierce eyes and 
 bristling hair made her terrible to behold as she 
 stood watching the marauder's retreat, and hissing 
 the while like a fury. Then, as if fearful that the 
 fray had attracted attention, she took her eyes off 
 the bird and scrutinized the approaches to the 
 morass before removing the cubs to the nest, where 
 she stilled their complaints by fondling them until 
 
CONFINED TO THE HOVER 5 
 
 they fell asleep and forgot their sunny couch on 
 the grass. The uicident troubled the otter so 
 greatly that, resisting all their importunities, she 
 never again exposed them to the risk of capture. 
 To break the monotony of the hover, the cubs, 
 as their limbs grew stronger, would, in the 
 intervals of sleep, clamber to the wide parapet of 
 the nest and take note of the things that moved 
 within their narrow field : of trembling grasses, 
 of the bramble spray that moved to and fro in 
 the current, of the reeds that nodded in the wind, 
 and, above all, of the creatures that visited the 
 stream to feed or quench their thirst. They 
 watched every step taken by the snipe, every 
 thrust of his long bill; they regarded with 
 wonder the gay kingfisher that perched on their 
 ledge and fished in their pool ; they were moved 
 to the keenest curiosity by the old dog-fox, who 
 stole from the reeds to drink and set their young 
 nostrils working with his strong scent. When 
 sure of their footing, with pads outstretched and 
 every webbed toe expanded they advanced to 
 the very edge of the nest, pushed their dusky 
 grey heads through the grassy curtain, and looked 
 down at the eddy gurgling below, contemplating 
 the element in which their lives would be spent 
 and whose every change they were to know. 
 
6 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 They resembled kittens more than any other 
 young creatures, the difference Ijring in their 
 tiny ears and shy, wild eyes. But, suggestive of 
 fear as was their look, they were not as yet con- 
 scious of the danger besetting them, even when 
 able to scramble up the bank and sprawl about 
 the bog. Thither the otter led them in all 
 weathers, and it was for this duty that she 
 hurried back to them the instant she had done 
 foraging. Now and again the scarcity of prey 
 or the difficulty of securing it would detain her 
 far into the night and sorely tax the patience of 
 the cubs, eager for her return. In the intervals 
 of listening they would pace round the now 
 dishevelled nest, increasing their speed as the 
 hours passed without sign of her. At length 
 the shrill whistle, heard even above the storm 
 or downpour, would reach them, and set them 
 dancing with dehght. Two furry heads and little 
 red tongues greeted the panting mother as soon 
 as her feet rested on the ledge, and the next 
 instant the capering creatures followed her as 
 she led to the gambolling-ground beyond the 
 great reed-bed. There they frolicked to their 
 heart's content through the hours of darkness, 
 and even after sun-up when thick fog shrouded 
 the morass. On reaching the nest the otter 
 
MALE CUB DISOBEDIENT 7 
 
 suckled them to sleep, and, lying between them 
 and the mouth of the holt, as was her invariable 
 custom, shielded them from cold and danger. 
 
 These were happy days for the dam, but owing 
 to the wilfiilness of the male cub they did not 
 last long. He had taken it into his head that he 
 was big enough to go out alone, and one night 
 out he ventured. He was more than half-way 
 to the reed-bed when his mother found him. 
 This first demonstration of independence caused 
 her little concern, but she was almost beside 
 herself with anxiety when, two days later, he 
 made an attempt to saUy out in broad daylight, 
 and aU but succeeded in getting away. He was 
 nearly over the bank when she pulled him back 
 by the tail and gave him a sharp nip by Way of 
 punishment. The very next day the incorrigible 
 fellow got even farther away ; but she discovered 
 his absence before he had got beyond the tus- 
 socks, fetched him back, and bit him severely as 
 she laid him down in the nest. Thus disobedi- 
 ence brought unhappiness into the hover, and the 
 cub, shrinking from the mother he deemed cruel,, 
 shuffled to the inmost corner, where fibrous roots 
 protruded from the low roof, and there licked his 
 bruises in morose isolation- 
 Aware now of his rashness, the otter dared 
 
8 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 not leave the nest by day as she had occasionally 
 done before. One noon, however, impelled by 
 her own hunger and the cubs' piteous entreaties 
 for food, she put aside her apprehensions and 
 stole out, leaving them to their own devices. As 
 quickly as her pads could carry her, she made 
 her way down the hill along the rents that fis- 
 sured the peaty ground, dived across the swollen 
 pool in the hollow below, dashed over the sward 
 beyond some alders, and gained the wood and 
 the river unobserved. The river was bank-high 
 and much discoloured, but after a long quest she 
 came on an eel abroad in the flood. Landing 
 under some bushes on the far side, she devoured 
 half the fish, and then, without a moment's 
 delay, sUpped into the river and floated down 
 with the current. At a rapid pace she rounded 
 bend after bend, came ashore at a backwater, 
 leapt some felled trees, and regained the bog 
 by the same hidden ways. To her dismay she 
 found, as she had feared, the nest deserted and 
 cold. In great distress she set out to fetch the 
 truants home. She followed their trail to the 
 reed-bed, through which she dashed like a thing 
 demented, and came upon her two cubs playing 
 in the open as fearlessly as only tame creatures 
 may play. On sighting their mother, the run- 
 
S 
 
 o 
 X 
 
 a 
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 M 
 
 & 
 
THE TRUANTS BROUGHT HOME 9 
 
 aways, instead of slinking off guilt-stricken, 
 rushed at the full speed of their ungainly 
 limbs to meet her, and tried by winning antics 
 to induce her to join in their midday romp. 
 Gladly as she would have complied, her response 
 was to drag them into cover, take the smaller 
 cub in her mouth, carry it to the nest, and 
 return for the ringleader, who squealed with 
 rage until soundly ducked in the pool below the 
 hover. The dark-pelted creature was a con- 
 spicuous object as she splashed across the exposed 
 spaces ; but, as good fortune would have it, both 
 she and the cubs escaped the observation of the 
 keeper who was occasionally to be seen on the 
 hills overlooking the morass. Still, the poor out- 
 law had been taught a sharp lesson, and resolved 
 never again on any pretext to leave the cubs by day. 
 So greatly was she perturbed by their escapade 
 that she even longed for the moment when fear 
 should awaken in them and whisper its monitions. 
 Meanwhile, she looked forward with impatience 
 to the night when they would be able to follow 
 her afield and learn the many lessons she was 
 anxious to teach them ; and in order to hasten 
 the time, she devoted every hour she could spare 
 to sharing their frolicsi so that they might develop 
 rapidly, 
 
 2 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 EARLY TRAINING 
 
 When the cubs were a little over eight weeks 
 old, their mother resolved to take them to the 
 pool and teach them to swim; so one starry 
 night at setting-out time she led the young 
 creatures — overjoyed, as their excited antics 
 showed, at this new departure — to the brow of 
 the rising ground, till then the boundary of their 
 narrow world. There, whilst the otter stood and 
 reconnoitred, the eyes of the cubs wandered 
 wonderingly from slope and rushy hollow to 
 the woods across the ravine, where a vixen was 
 squalling. As no danger threatened, dam and 
 whelps made for the faintly silvered pool lying 
 so still and silent ia contrast with the river that 
 ran brawling along its boulder-strewn channel. 
 On reaching it the mother swam slowly out 
 turning her head the while as if to invite the 
 cubs to foUow her, landed on the islet and, in 
 order to work on their feelings and draw them 
 across the water, hid herself amongst the withered 
 sedge. This was not without its effect, as the 
 
 10 
 
TAUGHT TO SWIM 11 
 
 cries of the cubs showed ; yet, distressed though 
 they were at the separation, they were afraid to 
 commit themselves to the pool and try to join 
 her. Thereupon the otter swam back to within 
 a few feet of the foreland where the shrinking 
 creatures stood and, wheeling slowly, returned 
 again to the islet, calling as she went. 
 
 This she did many times, employing every 
 wile she knew to coax them after her ; but 
 all in vain. For three nights, despite all her 
 pains, she failed to tempt them beyond the 
 shallows. At last, just when she was about to 
 put them out of their depth, the smaller cub 
 overcame its hesitation, waded till it lost foot- 
 hold, then swam bravely across, landed with a 
 little wriggling jump, and sent the spray flying 
 from every silky hair along the fourteen inches 
 of its length, as it shook itself before rolling on 
 the sedge to dry its coat more thoroughly. The 
 male cub, who had watched her every movement, 
 was now beside himself at being left alone, and 
 after running for some time up and down the 
 bank, uttering the most piteous plaints, followed 
 the others across and dried his fur as his sister 
 had done. Presently they all swam back to the 
 foreland. Before returning to the hover, they 
 crossed and recrossed four times more ; and once 
 
12 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 even, in the absence of the otter, who was away 
 foraging, the cubs crossed alone. 
 
 From this night their fear of the water abated, 
 and soon, with scarce a ripple to mark their 
 smooth progress, they were able to accompany 
 their proud mother in her circlings round and 
 round the pool. When the smaller cub tired, 
 the otter slackened her pace, sank very low, took 
 it on her back, and carried it to the shallows ; 
 but the male cub always had to take care of 
 himself. The subsequent improvement was very 
 rapid, and at the end of a week so fond did they 
 become of the water that when released from 
 the hover they scurried to the pool in advance 
 of their mother, stumbling and falling as they 
 ran in their eagerness to reach it. 
 
 Being full of the young creature's love of 
 ' hide-and-seek,' they often concealed themselves 
 before she came up. On hearing her approach, 
 they drew their heads beneath the surface until 
 only their nostrils showed and, though thrilling 
 with excitement, kept as motionless as the alder 
 snags about them until discovered. Then mother 
 and cubs joined in play, disporting themselves at 
 times on the surface, but more often in the 
 depths. Presently they would rise, locked 
 together as if in deadly struggle, and roll over 
 
SHOOTING THE RAPIDS 13 
 
 and over like a water-logged ball in a current 
 All at once, and frequently whilst immersed, 
 they would break up, land, and make the circuit 
 of the banks, passing one another as though they 
 were utter strangers, and then suddenly, as if by 
 signal, take to the water again and resume their 
 mimic warfare. Once whilst they were thus 
 engaged the whistle of an otter reached them 
 from the river. In a twinkling they stayed their 
 gambols, and, floating side by side, listened until 
 the call grew faint as the traveller passed up the 
 valley ; then they fell again to their romps- 
 Wonderful ease and grace marked their 
 movements in the pool, and still more in the 
 streams and eddies of the river, to which the 
 otter lost no time in taking them. They spent 
 hours shooting the rapids below the salmon 
 pool, landing at the end of the long run where 
 the rush of water loses its force, and regaining 
 the head of the current by climbing the rocky 
 bank. So attractive did this diversion prove 
 that but for their mother's restraint the eager 
 creatures would have left the nest for the river 
 long before it was safe to be abroad. Once, 
 indeed, overborne by their importunities, she so 
 far yielded as to lead them out before the after- 
 glow had paled ; but this concession only made 
 
14 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 them more exacting. On the morrow they 
 would have her release them the moment the 
 sun dipped below the crest and the shadow of the 
 upland fell on the morass. But she turned a 
 deaf ear to their entreaties and, when they 
 became insubordinate and attempted to force a 
 way past her, punished them with many sharp 
 nips and kept them back. 
 
 She was also much troubled at this time by 
 their refusal to eat the fish with which she had 
 been doing her best to tempt them. It mattered 
 not whether she offered them samlet, trout, or 
 eel, they turned from all alike, and it seemed as 
 if they would never be brought to touch any. 
 Nevertheless she persisted, till one night, on 
 the bank of the deep pool below the rapids, the 
 male cub took a trout from her mouth, and the 
 next night, just before dawn, his sister did the 
 same. Their aversion to solid food once over- 
 come, they would chatter over the new diet as 
 if to testify to the pleasure they found in the 
 exercise of their newly acquired taste, or even 
 hiss angrily when their savage passions were 
 stirred by the wriggling or quivering of the fish 
 in their grip. They held the prey between the 
 fore-paws, slicing off delicate morsels with their 
 pearly teeth, and champing them fine before 
 
CUBS FIERCE AND FEARFUL 15 
 
 swallowing. Most remarkable was the way they 
 set about eating two of the fish their mother 
 provided for them. With the trout they began 
 at the head, but in the case of the eel they 
 attacked the part below the vent, leaving the 
 upper portion untouched. 
 
 This fish diet produced a most significant 
 change : the cubs became fierce, and at the same 
 time fearful. No longer was any restraint needed 
 to keep them to the nest or to the holts in the 
 river -banks, where they occasionally lay ; no 
 longer had the mother any difficulty in getting 
 them to obey the dawn-cry and follow whither 
 she led. Henceforth the sense of dread lay on 
 their lives like a shadow and deepened with 
 their development. It was seen in their readi- 
 ness to crouch or make for the water at any 
 strange sound, in their suspicion of any strange 
 object. A bottle left on the bank by the water- 
 baUiif caused them to take a wide detour, and the 
 snapping of a stick under the foot of a lumbering 
 badger nearly frightened these noiseless movers 
 out of their wits. Once a thunderstorm terrified 
 them with its vivid flashes, and one day even a 
 brilliant rainbow was a source of alarm, until 
 their mother awoke and showed no concern. 
 
 These trifling scares were followed towards the 
 
16 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 close of March by an incident they never forgot 
 — an incident which caused the otter even greater 
 consternation than it caused the cubs. It hap- 
 pened late one afternoon. The male cub had 
 awakened from his second sleep and, with head 
 resting on his mother's flank, sat looking at the 
 light fade over the wind-s\yept morass. During 
 a luU an unaccountable rustling in the reeds 
 caught his ears and brought him to his feet. 
 The startled movement aroused his mother and 
 sister, and in a trice all three otters were watch- 
 ing from behind the grass screen for a sight of 
 the noisy intruder. The next instant they saw 
 a fox, bedraggled almost beyond recognition, 
 stagger from the reeds, drop from the bank 
 to the stream, lap, raise his head and listen, 
 lap again, then toil with bog-stained body and 
 sodden brush up the opposite bank and pass from 
 view. He could not have got far beyond the 
 river, for which he seemed to be heading, before 
 a hound came in sight, then two more, followed 
 almost immediately by the body of the pack, 
 which poured over the brow of the upland and 
 streamed down a gully towards the morass. 
 Soon they had disappeared, but whine after 
 whine reached the otters' ears, mingled with the 
 crashing of the brake as the pack approached 
 
A TIME OF PERTURBATION 17 
 
 the stream and swept by full in their view. 
 Some minutes later two yapping, bog-stained 
 terriers crossed, and then the morass resumed 
 its wonted calm. All this the otters had 
 watched, hissing through their bared teeth, eyes 
 starting from their sockets, and hair bristling 
 erect on their thick necks: even when all 
 was quiet again a great dread still possessed 
 them. Their feral nature had been stirred to 
 the depths, and they listened and listened, 
 though no sound reached them save a faint toot 
 of the horn. Setting-out time came and went, 
 but the otters did not stir, till at length, taking 
 heart from the owls, who filled the wood with 
 their wild hooting, they stole down to the river. 
 
 The otter fished, but not a moment was given 
 to gambolling, and long ere the woodman's 
 bantam heralded the day the scared creatures 
 sought harbourage in the branches of a fallen 
 pine whose top lay half immersed in the river. 
 Hidden amidst the flotsam caught by the boughs, 
 with the deep pool just below them, they felt 
 safe, and at length slept as soundly as they had 
 done in the morass. 
 
 They repaired to the same hover the next day 
 and the day following. In their waking hours 
 they would watch the eddying water and rising 
 
 3 
 
18 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 trout, and at times east a glanee at the belt 
 of timber beyond, as if attracted by the crim- 
 son blossom of the elms. Not only did the 
 flowering of forest tree tell of the passing of 
 winter, but green shoots of flag and reed shyly 
 whispered the same story, and wild daffodils in 
 glade and dell proclaimed it. A gold-crest in 
 the tall fir had begun laying her tiny freckled 
 eggs ; a throstle on the lone poplar by the pool 
 sang to his mate guarding her turquoise treasures 
 by the river's bank, while the ravens up the face 
 of the cliff*were already busy feeding their young. 
 Day by day, as the sun grew stronger and the 
 west wind blew, the sycamores unfolded their 
 fresh green leaves, and soon, the woodland over, 
 all the buds, responsive to the quickened under- 
 world, opened to greet the spring. 
 
 At the close of a hot day, when every furry 
 wildling had felt its coat a burden, and longed 
 for sundown and the drinking-place, the otter, 
 who had been gradually extending her nocturnal 
 rambles, took the cubs three miles down the 
 river to a point where a part of the water is 
 diverted into a tranquil mill-stream. Along its 
 bank she brought them to the gate leading to 
 the mill-yard, where all three stood and listened 
 momentarily to the croaking of the frogs in the 
 

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FROGGING 19 
 
 meadow beyond. Then they slipped under the 
 low bar, crossed the yard, skirted the house, and 
 hurried towards the ditch from which the noise 
 proceeded. The croaking ceased on their ap- 
 proach, and before the otter entered the water 
 every frog had sought a hiding-place at the 
 bottom. The otter had scarcely dived before 
 she was out again with two frogs in her mouth. 
 These she skinned and gave to the cubs. Find- 
 ing the morsel toothsome, and learning that 
 if they wanted more they must fish for them- 
 selves, they joined in the easy pursuit, and for 
 the first time in their lives satisfied their hunger 
 with prey of their own taking. 
 
 Finally, they quarrelled like little tigers over a 
 frog, of which each claimed possession, and so 
 loud a chattering did they make that the miller 
 got out of bed and opened his window to learn 
 the cause of the disturbance. The creak of the 
 sash silenced and alarmed them, and the next 
 instant they and their mother were heading for 
 the river at their best speed. An hour later 
 the raiders started to return home by a route 
 that took them wide of the mill where the 
 danger lurked, thus reaching the morass with- 
 out mishap ; and the otter soon tell asleep, but 
 the cubs lay awake thinking of an incident of 
 
20 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 the night. It was not the frogs that occupied 
 their thoughts, not the bare yard or the fearsome 
 trail across it, but the night-capped monster 
 whom they still pictured as he appeared at the 
 window. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE FIRST TREK 
 
 Not a single night was given up to frogging 
 after the cubs had learnt to skiri their prey. 
 Forthwith the little mother, anxious to make the 
 best of their time, led them to the moorland 
 waters of one of the tributary streams to teach 
 them to fish. There she had taken her first litter 
 for their earliest lessons, and now, as then, she 
 made for the pool above the old two-arched 
 bridge, which she still thought most suited for 
 a starting-point. To reach the fishing-ground 
 betimes, she left the morass with the first shades 
 of night and, crossing the river near the fallen 
 pine, struck across country towards her destina- 
 tion. Her path led through the woodland to a 
 waste of furze, and this to the high moorland 
 which the stream serves to drain. Once on the 
 heathery tableland, otter and cubs advanced at 
 a rapid pace, and presently hit the track to 
 the bridge, which they followed, leaving their 
 footprints here and there on the margin of the 
 shrunken puddles. When nearly abreast of the 
 
 31 
 
22 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 Giant's Quoits, first the otter and then the cubs 
 caught the voice of the stream. The low 
 murmur was almost lost in the sigh of the night 
 wind, but grew louder and louder, till soon 
 chattering run and plashing cascade appeared in 
 the dip below. 
 
 On reaching the pool, the otter entered the 
 water with the cubs at her side, 'dived, and drove 
 the trout to the shelter of the banks. Thereupon 
 the cubs, who saw where the fish had fled, fell to 
 drawing the hovers, thrusting their flat heads 
 into hole and crevice as far as they could reach. 
 But the trout had found secure recesses, and 
 though a few felt the lips of the otters, they 
 could not be seized, and all but one escaped. 
 In the pool at the bend, however, where the 
 bank, hollowed though it is, affords poor shelter, 
 three were taken. Then the captors, two on the 
 gravel, the other on a mid-stream boulder, lay 
 at full length and ate their prey, munching 
 ravenously. The otter seemed to have set aside 
 her fears since reaching the moor, for never once 
 did she trouble to listen or even to scan the 
 sable waste around her. All her thoughts were 
 for the cubs, whom she led from pool to pool, 
 aiding them until they began to fish for them- 
 selves ; then she stood aside and watched them. 
 
AN INSECURE HOVER 23 
 
 Trout after trout they caught and devoured 
 along the winding reaches leading to the long, 
 sullen pool in the midst of the moor, where the 
 mother, elated by their success, joined merrily in 
 their gambols, which were kept up until past the 
 usual hovering-time. 
 
 Day was on them when they landed and 
 sought the most inviting couches the bank 
 offered. First the cubs wormed themselves out 
 of sight, then the Otter ; and so effectually were 
 all three concealed amongst the rocks and 
 heather that a kestrel, hovering over the spot, 
 failed to get a glimpse of their brown forms, 
 and flew on without a suspicion of their presence. 
 Nevertheless, the open bank, though it had a 
 marshy tract on one side and a deep pool on the 
 other, was an insecure lodging, so that it was 
 only because the moorland afforded no better 
 that they returned thither on the morrow. After 
 that the otter, jealous for the cubs' safety, made 
 some five miles downstream, where the holts 
 amongst the roots of withy and alder were strong 
 and sheltered from the rain that had rendered 
 the upland hovers so uncomfortable on the 
 second day. It is true the trout were scarce, 
 but this mattered little to the otters, for eels, 
 their favourite prey, were abundant. Amongst 
 
24 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 them was a very large one which, on being 
 gripped by the male cub, coiled itself round his 
 neck and threatened to strangle him. In this 
 predicament the otter, after a short struggle, 
 made for the bank and rolled amongst the fern 
 and bramble to free himself of his antagonist. 
 Finding this of no avail, he shifted his grip 
 to a point nearer the head and, using the 
 terrible force of his jaws, broke the back of the 
 eel, and so got rid of it. This fish had been 
 captured in the shallows, but for the most part 
 the eels were only to be had by turning over the 
 big stones under which they darted at sight of 
 their pursuers. The young otters eagerly joined 
 their mother in dislodging their prey and catch- 
 ing them when they bolted. The swiftness of 
 the animals in this pursuit was amazing, and 
 no less so the quick turning movements in 
 which rudder and fore-paw were both brought 
 into play. Indeed the long, lissom, tapering 
 creatures resembled huge eels, and might have 
 been mistaken for eels but for the bubbles 
 which rose to the surface and marked their 
 course. 
 
 The otters kept to this part of the stream for 
 nearly a week — that is, until the freshet which 
 had caused the run of eels subsided, and rendered 
 
TWO PARTIES JOIN 25 
 
 a change of quarters necessary. They then 
 betook themselves to the main tributary on the 
 opposite bank, three miles above the morass ; but 
 finding that some other otters had disturbed the 
 water in front, they pressed on, and at length 
 came up with them where the stream winds 
 sluggishly through a swampy bottom. Two were 
 fishing in the stream, the rest in the marsh ; but 
 presently the whole party came into view, and as 
 they trotted along the bank were seen to be four 
 well-grown cubs with their dam, old and slightly 
 grizzled. They all went on in company, but as 
 day approached drew only the best pools, and 
 gave up fishing altogether after striking the trail 
 of the moorman who had forded the stream at 
 sundown. Indeed on finding the dreaded taint 
 of man there was quite a stir amongst them, 
 especially amongst the cubs, who kept close 
 alongside their mothers, and wondered where 
 harbourage was to be found on the seemingly 
 bare upland to which they were being led. At 
 length the scared creatures sighted the weedy 
 lakelet where the stream rises and, just as the 
 rim of the sun showed gained the shelter of the 
 reeds that fi-inged it. 
 
 The day proved intensely hot and still, with 
 not a breath to ripple the surface or freshen the 
 
 4 
 
26 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 stifling air of the brake where the otters lay 
 panting until dusk fell and allowed them to 
 quench their tormenting thirst without fear of 
 detection. Then, leaving their quarters, the two 
 families travelled together till, after crossing two 
 naked hills, they came to a rushy flat, lined with 
 sour watercourses, where the trail forked, and 
 there they parted company. 
 
 The otter was bound for the head-waters of 
 the tributary nearest the source of the river, and 
 soon after midnight reached the boggy gathering 
 ground with its network of runnels and chain of 
 pools in which she and the cubs fished until the 
 stars began to pale. Then the hunters in single 
 file made along the slender stream for the basin 
 below the fall, sporting together till the sun rose 
 over the distant sea and flooded the upland with 
 its beams. The otter, usually observant of the 
 first signs of dawn, seemed not to heed the golden 
 light, even when the cubs began to grow imeasy 
 and to shoot reproaqhful glances at her for keep- 
 ing them abroad at so late an hour. But she 
 needed not to be reminded of her duty. She 
 knew they ran no risk in that untrodden spot ; 
 indeed on leaving the pool she stood on the 
 bank to gaze across the dew-spangled waste 
 and then at the gilded crags of Lone Tarn, 
 
IN A RABBIT-BURROW 27 
 
 before at length withdrawing to a clitter some 
 half-mile down the stream. 
 
 There the dark recesses of the pile of rocks 
 proved a welcome retreat to the cubs, and with 
 the music of the waters for a lullaby they soon 
 fell asleep. They hovered there again on the 
 morrow ; after which they continued on their 
 journey laying up under the bank of the wide 
 pool where the stream joins the river. 
 
 At setting-out time the otter seemed half- 
 minded to follow the river to its source, for she 
 kept looking towards the lone hill where it rises ; 
 but presently — the lowness of the water probably 
 weighing with her — she decided to go down- 
 stream, summoned her cubs and trotted across 
 the bend to the head of the long rapids, where 
 they entered the water and drifted with the 
 current. At dawn they sought a rabbit-burrow 
 on the river-bank so near the woods that the 
 cubs, who lay by the mouth of one of the holes, 
 could hear the pigeons cooing. The retreat was 
 safe and very dry, and would have left little to 
 desire if the rabbits had taken no notice. But 
 the timid creatures, thoroughly alarmed at the 
 presence of the otters, stamped almost with- 
 out intermission and prevented their uninvited 
 guests from sleeping. At noon the otter. 
 
28 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 annoyed beyond endurance, rose and chased the 
 rabbits along the tunnels ; but this only made 
 them worse. After that the drumming was kept 
 up in every level, and made the visitors long for 
 night. So at early dusk, after another raid on 
 the persecutors, the otters slid down the bank 
 into the water and let the stream take them 
 along reach after reach until they were far into 
 the wood. All the way they never ceased to 
 scan the banks ; they seemed to suspect an enemy 
 behind every tree, but surely without sufficient 
 cause. At one spot the green eyes of a fox 
 watched them as they passed, otherwise they 
 floated along unnoticed save by the bats flitting 
 up and down the dark spaces beneath the over- 
 hanging boughs. On reaching the fallen pine 
 they began to fish, and so continued all the way 
 to the salmon pool, where they sported till dawn 
 drove them again to the morass. 
 
 During the weeks that followed they kept to 
 the neighbourhood of the old nursery, lying up 
 for the most part under rocks and tree-roots at 
 the water's edge, but occasionally in the morass 
 itself. It was whilst Couching there that the 
 otter, alarmed by the continued fall of the river 
 and the exposure of the mouths of the strongest 
 hovers, suddenly resolved to make for the tidal 
 
START FOR THE CREEK 29 
 
 waters, whose holts are unaffected by droughts, 
 and where she could teach the cubs many new 
 lessons. She first thought of going down the 
 river to the estuary, but changed her plans almost 
 at the last moment and determined to make for 
 a creek where she had had good fishing with her 
 mate, the father of the cubs. The destination 
 was two good marches distant, but she knew a 
 stronghold by the way where they could lodge, 
 and from which they could easily reach the creek 
 on the following night. 
 
 In her anxiety to gain this refuge before dawn, 
 she left her couch in the reed-bed at early dusk 
 and, full of her purpose, made for the old hover 
 where the cubs always slept when in the morass. 
 Hearing the faint rustle of the herbage as she 
 approached, the quick-eared creatures left the 
 nest, and when she came up, fell into their place 
 at her side. Leading past the pool to the river, 
 she crossed it and headed towards the woodman's 
 cottage. The rapid pace at which the animals 
 travelled soon brought them within sight of the 
 low, thatched building beneath its sheltering oak, 
 but as nothing stirred they passed close to the 
 garden fence and into the gloom of the pines 
 beyond. 
 
 A happier little band of nomads could not be 
 
30 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 found than the otter and her cubs, quite unsus- 
 picious of danger, though they were running 
 straight into its jaws. At a sudden turn of the 
 mossy track where rocks contract the way they 
 came face to face with Venom, the woodman's 
 terrier. Venom was returning from a badgers' 
 sett which he visited whenever he could slip away 
 unobserved, and his begrimed and bloodstained 
 condition told how severe had been the fray 
 between him and one of the badgers. He looked 
 a woebegone mongrel as he limped along on 
 three legs ; but the instant he found himself face 
 to face with the strangers he forgot his fatigue 
 and flew at the otter's throat with a fury that 
 threatened to make short work of her. He soon 
 discovered, however, that he had caught a 
 Tartar. The shaking he gave her had little 
 other result than ftirther to exhaust himself, 
 while the otter began punishing him about the 
 face and shoulders, making her teeth meet at 
 every bite. Besides inflicting severe wounds, she 
 was actually pushing the dog back, and after a 
 prolonged tussle was clear of the rocks and close 
 to a fallen tree from which the terrified cubs 
 were watching the fray. Another scrimmage 
 here took place, even longer and fiercer than 
 the first : then the dog hesitated to renew the 
 
FIGHT WITH THE TERRIER 31 
 
 fight and stood on the defensive. Thereupon 
 the otter, whose one thought was escape, joined 
 the cubs and made off. The sight of their 
 retreat was, however, more than Venom could 
 standi and they had scarcely disappeared before 
 he was in pursuit. On overtaking them, he laid 
 hold of the male cub, probably mistaking him 
 for his mother. With a viciousness that belied 
 his cubhood, the young dog-otter closed with his 
 first assailant, and would have made a brave fight 
 had he been allowed to conduct it alone. But 
 he was not. Like a tiger the mother fell on the 
 terrier, and it looked as if the dog would be cut 
 to pieces. His one thought, however, was to 
 destroy the vermin, and instead of drawing off as 
 he might have done at the foot of the steep slope,, 
 down which they fell rather than roUed, he, 
 actually closed again, fought to the edge of the 
 pool-there, even held on to the otter when she 
 dived, and kept his hold until his lungs were 
 exhausted. Then he let go, but on coming to 
 the surface he did not make for the bank. He 
 swam round and round, looking for his enemy, 
 and only when he had lost hope of viewing her 
 again did he land at last. On being freed from 
 his grip, the otter had made her way close along 
 the bottom to the upper end of the pool, where 
 
32 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 the cubs were waiting for her among some rushes. 
 From their shelter mother and cubs now watched 
 the movements of their puzzled foe, who began 
 examining the banks of the pool. When he came 
 near, they sank almost out of sight, their nostrils 
 alone showing, and so remained until he had time 
 to pass ; then the otter raised her head to recon- 
 noitre. Once as she did so she found the terrier 
 standing within a few yards, but looking so 
 intently in another direction that he failed to 
 sight her ; whereupon she sank again as noiselessly 
 as she had risen, not leaving even her nostrils 
 exposed. A score of times, at least, did the dog 
 make the circuit of the pool ; and had he been 
 able to scent the otter — a thing which but few 
 dogs can do — he must at least have driven them 
 from their shelter, and possibly firom the pool, for 
 it was very small. Yet, insensible though he 
 was to the scent, he was so convinced the animals 
 were there that, after departing, he actually came 
 back and looked again before taking himself off 
 for good and leaving the otters free to resume 
 their interrupted march. 
 
 For three hours they had been detained, and 
 now, hurry as they might, it was impossible to 
 reach the cairn before daybreak. Indeed, they 
 were yet two miles away when the ridges above 
 
MOBBED BY A MAGPIE 83 
 
 them were touched by the risen sun. To add to 
 their troubles a magpie espied them, and though 
 they were strange to him as to the terrier, he 
 knew they were nighthngs with no right to be 
 abroad after sunrise, and mobbed them as he 
 would have mobbed a leash of foxes. Under 
 the brambles and osmunda ferns they were 
 hidden from the pest, but ih the open he had 
 them at his mercy and, now fluttering just 
 beyond their reach, now hopping from branch 
 to branch of rowan or alder or wild-cherry, 
 he annoyed them with impunity. At last they 
 came to the foot of the slope at the head of the 
 ravine threaded the furze as fast as their pads 
 could carry them, reached the pile of rocks, and 
 one by one disappeared through the narrow 
 crevice near its base. The magpie, however, 
 instead of flying off, perched on the pinnacle of 
 the cairn and, with his head knowingly cocked 
 on one side, watched for their reappearance. 
 Long, long he waited, but as the creatures made 
 no sign, he tired, took wing, flew down the 
 ravine past the precipice where the ravens had 
 their nest, and regained the wood of which he 
 was so vigilant a sentinel. 
 
 The persecuted beasts soon forgot the magpie, 
 but the terrier bad left a deeper memory, and all 
 
 5 
 
34 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 three were long in falling asleep. The otter, 
 indeed, was still awake at noon, when a weasel 
 threaded the way to the heart of the cairn, and, 
 poking his snake-like head round the angle of 
 rock, saw the curled-up forms of the animals 
 whose scent had drawn him thither But a single 
 peep satisfied his curiosity, and he went out into 
 the blazing sunlight, fragrant with the perfume 
 of the furze. Then the mother otter slept like 
 the cubs. 
 
 The ravine was weird with the shades of 
 night, raven and magpie were asleep, when the 
 nomads left the cairn and took to the traU. 
 Like three shadows they stole over the crest 
 above and entered the covert. In the silence of 
 that still, sultry night they might have been 
 heard forcing a way where the fiirze was densest, 
 and presently they emerged from the lower edge, 
 and, traversing a strip of open ground where a 
 rabbit was feeding, came to a stream. This they 
 crossed by springing from rock to rock, the otter 
 first and the male cub last. In the same order 
 they threaded the oak coppice that clad the 
 opposite steep, and made their way over the 
 craggy summit that crowned it. And so th^y 
 passed stream after stream, surmounted ridge 
 after ridge of the wild watershed, and gained 
 
THE CULTIVATED LOWLAND 35 
 
 the outlying spur where the cultivated lowland 
 lay before them. It looked like a sombre, 
 blurred plain unrelieved by water, until the 
 moon rode clear of the clouds and revealed the 
 winding reaches of the tidal creek for which 
 they were bound. Their destination was yet a 
 good way off, but as the going was now very 
 easy the tireless creatures covered the fields at a 
 swinging pace. The pastures seemed strange to 
 the cubs; stranger still the sheep and cattle, 
 asleep at such an hour without a bush to hide 
 them ; but leaving them lying there, the otters 
 kept straight on. A homestead rose almost 
 across their trail ; the trail, however, had been 
 traced ages before the buildings were raised or 
 even the land was broken, and though disturbed 
 by spade and plough a thousand times, it was still 
 the otters' way, so mother and cubs kept to it 
 faithfully, past the snow-white hawthorns and 
 into the rickyard, where they stayed to roU and 
 dry their coats, wet from the mowing-grass. The 
 stamping of a horse's feet sent them off before 
 they had finished ; but what alarmed them much 
 more was a scarecrow in a top-hat standing 
 amongst the growing corn. The suspicious 
 creatures gave a wide berth to this horror, and 
 kept looking back to see whether it was foUow- 
 
36 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 ing, until presently they caught the scent of 
 water ; then they never gave it another thought. 
 In their eagerness to reach the fishing-ground 
 they increased then- pace across the three en- 
 closures that separated them from it ; but at the 
 sight of the smooth, broad creek the cubs stood 
 and gazed, till a call from their mother reminded 
 them there was no time to be lost. So they 
 made down the bank and over the beach to join 
 her on the rocky foreland, round which the 
 current was eddying. Together they dived 
 and scoured the sandy bed in search of prey. 
 In her anxiety to secure supper, the otter soon 
 got separated from the cubs, who, through inex- 
 perience, wasted their efforts in vain pursuit of 
 the bass instead of questing for the flat-fish that 
 were to be had for the finding. In the end they 
 tired without having obtained a meal. The last 
 time they landed they were near the wooded 
 island where the herons build, a long way from 
 the point where they took to the tide, and it was 
 whilst lapping the water of a runnel there that 
 they heard their mother's call from far down the 
 creek. At once they hurried along the strand, 
 answering as they ran, and even after they had 
 taken to the flood they repeated their shrill 
 whistlings until they reached her side. To their 
 
THE FREQUENTED CAVE 37 
 
 delight, a big flat-fish lay at her feet, its white 
 underside uppermost. The smell of the prey, 
 strange though it was, so pleased them that their 
 nostrils twitched with anticipation. Indeed, the 
 flounder was an appetizing morsel for creatures 
 sated with eels and trout, and soon all three were 
 busy devouring it. They were not long over the 
 feast, but they had scarcely finished when the 
 grey light stealing across the creek drove them 
 to a cave in the overgrown bank. 
 
 This was not a hover suddenly chanced on, but 
 a much-frequented place of call that the otter 
 intended making for when she left the cairn. 
 The dank vault had been occupied the day 
 before, as was evident from the dry place on 
 the slab, but it was untenanted then, save by a 
 few bats hanging from the low roof, and it 
 afforded the new-comers the accommodation they 
 required. The mother chose the ledge close to 
 the landing-place, whilst the cubs scrambled to 
 a shelf above, along the rude way worn in the 
 slaty wall by generations of their tribe. Before 
 curling up for the day, the otters, as was their 
 wont, teased with their claws every bit of under- 
 fur, and removed the thorns and furze-spines 
 about which it had matted. Then, liking the 
 taste of the salt water, they licked themselves 
 
38 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 until their glossy coats were as smooth as satin. 
 As soon as their toilet was finished they settled 
 down to sleep, and so soft was their breathing, 
 so thoroughly did their dark pelt harmonize with 
 its surroundings, that there was nothing to betray 
 their presence except eyes which glowed in the 
 sombre light until the lids closed and hid theii 
 amber fires 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 AT THE CREEK 
 
 The otter was awakened about noon by the 
 patter and drip of the rain that had sUenced the 
 birds in the woods outside, but the cubs slept 
 through it all. The downpour, which lasted off 
 and on for hours, ceased towards sundown, and 
 at star-peep the sky had cleared of clouds, save 
 where a black pall hung over the uplands. The 
 otters then stole from the cave, coming singly 
 through the mouth and, keeping within the 
 shadow of the rocky wall, landed on the beach 
 beyond. 
 
 After shaking their coats, they made down 
 the creek over the rain-pitted sand until nearly 
 abreast of a rock showing above the surface, and 
 there took to the water. For awhile it looked 
 as if they meant to cross to the opposite shore, 
 but on reaching mid-stream they dived, and the 
 next minute were busy detaching mussels from 
 the bed of the channel. The bubbles which kept 
 rising showed the position of the animals, which 
 presently came up with their mouths fuU of 
 
40 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 shell-fish and swam swiftly to land. There the 
 otter dropped the mussels she carried, seized 
 one between her paws, bit o£F the end of 
 the shell and devoured the fish. Scarcely had 
 she swallowed it before the cubs were busy 
 breaking the brittle shells and feasting on the 
 succulent contents ; and the crackling noise that 
 broke the silence would have puzzled any chance 
 visitor to the wood, but was no unfamiliar soimd 
 to the birds that roosted in the overhanging oaks. 
 The otters made several journeys to and from the 
 mussel-bed, till they had eaten their fill; then 
 fell to gambolling on the edge of the tideway, 
 to the annoyance of a heron, which soon took 
 wing for a station higher up the creek. Two or 
 three hours they there spent in play, varied by 
 excursions into the wood, where they startled a 
 hare and put the brooding pheasants in a fever. 
 Once they penetrated to the craggy summit, 
 cUmbed the rocks, lapped the water in the 
 highest of the basins, and, before jumping down, 
 gazed across the intervening coimtry to where 
 the estuary gUmmered between its dusky shores. 
 The beach was almost covered by the advancing 
 tide when the otters took to the water and 
 drifted up with the flood. Their outstretched 
 limbs being flush with the surface, they looked 
 
A SWELTERING DAY 41 
 
 like floating skins as the current bore them along; 
 but soon after passing the heron, spectral in the 
 uncertain light, they began swimming, and so 
 entered the cave, where they shook their coats 
 and lay down in the places they had occupied 
 the day before. The lapping of the tide was 
 their slumber-song, and the happy creatures were 
 sound asleep before the last of the bats came 
 flitting in to roost. 
 
 That day a fiery sun beat down upon the 
 country-side and exhausted toiler and sportsman 
 abroad in the sweltering heat. The mower 
 sweated and panted behind the scythe, the 
 otter-hunters crossing the moor longed for the 
 cool woods they had left, and the boy on the 
 smack at the end of the creek gobbled up his 
 pasty to spend the dinner -hour in the pool 
 beneath the bridge. Not only man and boy 
 suffered frora the heat ; beast and bird too 
 sought the shade, abandoning their haunts to 
 the insect hosts that revelled in the scorching 
 rays. The flower-gay selvage margining the far 
 shore of the creek and the tangle of honeysuckle 
 and wild-rose that curtained the portals of the 
 otters' lair, hummed with the noise of coimtless 
 wings. Honey-bees were there, green-bodied 
 flies and blue, and, preying on them, dragon- 
 
 6 
 
42 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 flies that darted to and fro, casting sharp 
 shadows on yellow sand-bank and sapphire pool. 
 But, glaring and dazzling as was the light, no 
 ray penetrated the gloom that shrouded the 
 otters, who never moved until near their usual 
 stirring - time. Then they rose, but only to 
 stretch themselves, for they lay down again, 
 hstened to the fading voices of the mowers, and 
 watched the afterglow pale upon the face of the 
 water. 
 
 At length, when all was still and the light 
 sombre, they slipped noiselessly into the current, 
 raising scarce a ripple as they passed from pool 
 to pool on their way down the creek. They 
 landed at the turn below the mussel -bed to 
 quench their thirst, then took to the water again, 
 and were soon busy disporting themselves in 
 Deadman's Pool. On leaving it, they moved 
 forward, climbing every rock, and resting there 
 as if they enjoyed the warmth tiU, two miles 
 beyond the pool, they came to where the creek 
 broadens between marshy flats given over to 
 wild-fowl. As it was in this reach that the otter 
 intended to hunt when the coming tide had 
 brought up the fish that came there to feed, she 
 and the cubs landed and played about on the 
 bank to while away the time of waiting. Pre- 
 
QUESTING FOR FLAT-FISH 43 
 
 sently they entered the fen, where they disturbed 
 some wild-duck and set the moorhens calling in 
 notes of alarm which were taken up by the fowl 
 on the other side of the creek, but subsided the 
 instant the intruders' gambols showed they had 
 no murderous intentions. 
 
 Close on midnight, when the tide was about 
 half flood, the otter, with the cubs at her side, 
 re-entered the creek in search of flat-fish. Her 
 quest was no easy one, for she had crossed the 
 sandy bottom but once before the fish, becoming 
 aware of the presence of their dreaded enemies, 
 gave up feeding, and buried themselves in the 
 sand. A pair of eyes dotted here and there 
 about the wide bed was aU that showed, and it 
 was for this sign of the fish's presence that the 
 otter searched, jerking her head this way and 
 that to scan the ground on each side of her 
 course. At the fourth dive she suddenly sighted 
 prey, as suddenly ceased propelling herself, and 
 stopped within a foot of the spot where the rest- 
 less eyes were watching her, while the cubs, who 
 had shot past, turned, fuU of wonder, and re- 
 joined their mother. Then the otter stretched 
 out a fore-leg, touched the plaice through the 
 thin layer of sand and put it to flight. The cubs, 
 taken aback by the unexpected appearance of 
 
44 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 the fish, did not move till it had got some yards 
 away, but once in pursuit the male cub soon 
 recovered the lost ground, seized the prey, rose 
 to the surface, and swam ashore. Two more 
 plaice were captured within the hour, one by the 
 cubs without assistance, and from that moment 
 their mother let them quarter the sand alone. 
 They propelled themselves by their hind-legs as 
 their mother did, the fore-legs being pressed 
 against the side, except when used tor sudden 
 turning movements ; but on rising to the surface 
 all four limbs came into play, while the massive 
 tail alone did the steering. When their hunger 
 was appeased they made up the creek, ducking 
 their heads as they went, until a stone fell from 
 the crumbling cliff above Deadman's Pool and 
 scared them ; they then gave over their bobbing, 
 but redoubled their speed, passing the flotsam at 
 a rapid pace, and all the way to the cave they 
 scanned the banks as if they dreaded an ambush, 
 though they had never once been waylaid. 
 
 That day, whilst awaiting the dusk, the otter 
 resolved to make a journey up the creek after 
 the school bass. The tide did not serve before 
 midnight ; then the rain, which had threatened, 
 began to fall and, as the animals drifted by the 
 herons' island, was coming down in torrents, but 
 
AFTER THE BASS 45 
 
 under it the current bore them rapidly along the 
 reaches without sign of man's neighbourhood, 
 save a disused limekiln, until the last bend 
 brought them within sight of a bridge and of the 
 hamlet that straggles down the hillside to a 
 wharf on the water's edge. When they were 
 abreast of it the bass began to rise, and drew 
 them in pursuit. Shooting up from below, the 
 hunters seized the unsuspecting fish, and soon 
 were busy eating their take, the cubs on buoj s, 
 the otter on a projecting stone of one of the 
 buttresses of the bridge. Once all three landed 
 under the farthest arch and dropped their prey 
 in affright at the unexpected presence of the 
 parish constable, who was sheltering there and 
 was almost as much scared himself. 
 
 Soon the crowing of the village cocks warned 
 the otter that she ought to withdraw ; but it was 
 not until the smoke began to rise from the galley 
 of the smack by the wharf that she at last gave 
 up fishing and made for the drain hard by, where 
 she had twice laid up before. Against a strong 
 head of water they forced their way up the 
 tunnel till they came to the rude ledges of 
 masonry in it, and there curled up as best they 
 could for the day. The cubs had never hovered 
 in such scant quarters before, but their discom- 
 
46 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 fort was as nothing in comparison with the terror 
 which the rumbUng of a van over their heads 
 occasioned them. In the course of the morning, 
 towards noon, things were stiU worse. A sheep- 
 dog with a nose for otters winded them, and 
 came and sniffed at the grating within a couple 
 of yards of where they lay. In his excitement 
 he kept pawing the iron bars and whimpering 
 until the cry of ' Shep, boy 1' recalled him to the 
 flock, the patter of whose feet had set the otters 
 on the alert before the dog darkened the twilight 
 of their hiding-place. These were the great 
 alarms of the day — indeed, the only alarms, for 
 the otters took little notice of the beU which rang 
 each time a customer entered the grocer's shop, 
 and scarcely more of the voices of the children 
 abroad when the rain ceased. 
 
 The street was deserted and the windows 
 aglow when the otters made their way down the 
 drain and, after listening at the mouth, stole out 
 into the moonlight. They ran some danger of 
 being seen as they approached the smack, and 
 again after passing it, but fortune favoured them; 
 they escaped observation, and got clear away. 
 
 They kept to the margin of the creek till near 
 the limekiln. Then the otter struck inland, with 
 stealthy motion threading the tufts that covered 
 
RABBITING 47 
 
 the rising ground. Half-way up the slope she 
 suddenly turned and looked at the cubs as if 
 a careless step had annoyed her, but at once 
 resumed her stalk. Presently her nostrils 
 twitched; she had scented a rabbit that was 
 feeding just over the brow. Coming within 
 sight of the unsuspecting creature she gathered 
 herself for a spring, and a fox could scarcely 
 have launched itself more swiftly than did the 
 otter. A timely movement, however, saved the 
 rabbit, which, with others feeding there, gained 
 the shelter of the bank. Balked of her prey, 
 the otter stood for a moment where the unavail- 
 ing leap had taken her, but as soon as the cubs 
 came up she made for the biggest of the holes, 
 and through it all three disappeared. Rabbits 
 popping out here and there along the bank 
 showed how quickly the otters traversed the 
 set, and presently the male cub, looking with its 
 arched back like a big ferret, issued from the 
 hole out of which a rabbit had come and, follow- 
 ing the scent with great eagerness, entered 
 another hole into which it had darted. The 
 mother otter, meanwhile, had been more suc- 
 cessful, for a squeal underground heralded her 
 appearance with a dead rabbit in her mouth, 
 closely followed by the cubs. When she had 
 
48 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 bitten off the head and the pads, she removed 
 the skin as if it had been a glove, and broke up 
 the carcass. Except for a few moorhen, it was 
 the first warm prey the cubs had eaten, and they 
 devoured it greedily, as they did their share of 
 another rabbit surprised in the furze beyond the 
 burrow. This ended the night's hunting, and 
 leaving the out-turned skins on the turf, the 
 otters went back to the creek across the dewy 
 grass which they marked with a clearly visible 
 track. 
 
 On gaining the shore they burst into a 
 gallop from sheer high spirits, spuming the sand 
 as they hurried along the lone reach in a sUence 
 unbroken save by the sob of the restless tide that 
 was mounting along their path. Within a mile 
 of the heronry they crossed the flood and sported 
 in the great eddy there; at times they landed 
 on the cone-shaped rock that rose amidst the 
 swirl and cast its inky shadow on the silvery 
 surface. The playful creatures seemed to have 
 set aside their fears and lingered till sunrise, 
 when the shout of a farm-boy to a neighbour 
 caused them to dive and make for the cave. 
 Time after time they rose to breathe, always in 
 the slack water, and at last, when the brimming 
 tide was aU ablush and every songster pouring 
 
FROM CREEK TO ESTUARY 49 
 
 out its greetings to the sun, they gained their 
 sanctuary beyond the reach of danger. 
 
 Thus day followed day and week succeeded 
 week,^ until they had got to know the creek as 
 they knew the morass. By the beginning of 
 August there was not an inlet left unexplored 
 nor a stream unvisited. The biggest of the 
 streams they followed to its source among the 
 hills, within easy reach of the sea, and laid up 
 there, but partly retraced their steps the next 
 night, and curled up at dawn beneath the roots 
 of a sycamore that overhung a mill-pool. That 
 day very heavy rain fell, and continued till a 
 late hour, soaking the country-side and causing 
 even the cave to drip, to the discomfort of the 
 otters, who repaired there on the morrow. This 
 decided the otter to make without further delay 
 for the sea, and that night, after a big feast on 
 the mussels, she led the cubs along the widening 
 reaches to the estuary and couched on an island 
 at the meeting of the waters. A barge drifted 
 by at sunrise ; later a peel leaped within a few 
 feet of them ; but the otters heeded neither the 
 one nor the other, nor, indeed, did they raise their 
 heads until a boy, blowing a penny may-horn, 
 came to fetch the geese froni the moor opposite, 
 and startled them not a little. But by this 
 
 7 
 
50 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 time the sun was dipping below the pines near 
 the homestead ; it was almost time to be afoot, 
 and as soon as the stars were bright, the otters 
 took to the water and began the descent of the 
 estuary. 
 
 The river, in spate after the rains, bore them 
 swiftly along, now between long spits of sand, 
 now close to the shadowed banks, dotted here 
 and there with glow-worms. The surroundings 
 were as peacefiil as the drifting was easy; yet 
 safe as the way seemed there was danger ahead, 
 and a mile or so down they came on one of the 
 worst enemies of their kind. They saw him the 
 instant they rounded the bend ; and Uttle wonder, 
 for the burly figure was clearly outlined against 
 the latticed window of the keeper's cottage. 
 Had he moved, they would merely have sunk 
 out of sight ; had he coughed or sneezed, they 
 would have dived, to reappear a furlong below. 
 But to scare them was the last thing he wished, 
 and, excited though he was, he never moved a 
 muscle. He had set a trap for the otters, which 
 he knew would follow the peel ; and since dusk 
 he had been all ears for the rattle of the chain 
 that would tell of a capture. As soon as they 
 were gone by, he rose and tiptoed along the 
 bank, wondering, as he picked his way, what 
 
A CLOSE SHAVE 51 
 
 made them go down when the peel were run- 
 ning. By the trunk of a dead ash he stopped to 
 Hsten. 
 
 The otters, on coming to the loop where the 
 estuary wellnigh returns upon itself, landed, as 
 the keeper knew they would, and passed through 
 a belt of young larch to a glade in which the 
 still air was heavy with the scent of flower and 
 fern, and a night-jar was busy among the moths. 
 When nearly across it, the otter swerved from 
 the trail to avoid the coppice where her mate 
 had been trapped. It was not likely she could 
 mistake the spot, for she had stood by him till at 
 dawn the footfall of the keeper had driven her 
 away. She had even returned the two following 
 nights, and called and called and called before 
 going off alone to prepare a nest for her unborn 
 cubs. And now another trouble beset her : the 
 male cub persisted in following the trail, and, 
 owing to his great strength, succeeded, despite 
 all her efforts, in getting amongst the bushes 
 where the trap was set. He was on the point of 
 putting his pad on the plate, when, in despera- 
 tion, she bit him and made him turn. As he did 
 so she closed with him, for she would rather kill 
 him than suffer him to fall a victim to man ; but 
 when, at the sound of the struggle, the keeper 
 
52 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 came crashing through the undergrowth, the 
 otter made oflf, and the cub followed her. 
 
 They struck the estuary near a jetty piled 
 with bundles of oak-bark, floundered through the 
 mud, and reached the river. The tedious bend, 
 of which the otters had crossed the neck, now 
 lay behind, and in front stretched the long reach 
 marked by broad sand-banks that the tide was 
 beginning to crawl over. So otter and cubs, 
 after passing two branch creeks, musical with 
 the whistlings of night-feeding birds, came to 
 the deeper water, where hulks rode at their last 
 anchorage, and, farther on, to the landlocked 
 haven in which tall-masted vessels swung to 
 their moorings, and the lights of a Uttle seaport 
 and fishing village winked at one another across 
 the salt waters. On viewing the uncanny lights 
 and hearing the shouts of a drunken saUor the 
 male cub sidled up to his mother ; and great was 
 his reHef when she rounded the rocky promontory 
 that projects into the harbour, and entered the 
 tranquil creek, whose waters reflected only the 
 friendly moon. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 SEA AND MARSH 
 
 The otters landed opposite a white buoy, and, 
 to pass the time till the fish came in, played 
 about on the rocks that strewed the shore. 
 When the tide had covered most of them, the 
 otter set out to reconnoitre, and had not been 
 gone long before she summoned the cubs to join 
 her. At the signal they took to the water, and 
 soon reached the spot where she awaited them. 
 On seeing her excitement they became excited 
 too, dived the instant she did, and the three, 
 swimming in line abreast, soon viewed the prey. 
 It was but the merest glimpse they got of half 
 a score tails, for the fish, finding there were 
 three otters, wheeled round in affright and fled 
 before their advance. At this timid manoeuvre, 
 so favourable to their purpose, the otters, eager 
 though they were to seize the prey, rose to vent, 
 and on resuming the chase came on the alarmed 
 mullet in a fathom of water. Further retreat 
 meant certain capture, and the mullet — craftiest 
 of aU the finny tribe — knew it. So the little 
 
 53 
 
54 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 school of fish made a dash for the deeper water, 
 and, as the otters flashed up from beneath to 
 seize them, scattered, leaping wUdly to avoid the 
 fatal grip. The confusion of that moment taxes 
 description, but one detail stands out clear — the 
 effort of the otter to reach the leader in its leap 
 for life. She did indeed lip it, but no more; 
 and the fish, which in its fall splashed the water 
 into ripples of silver, got right away and resumed 
 the lead of the retreating shoal. A few scales 
 only remained to mark the scene of the fray, and 
 the chagrin of the otters was complete when, on 
 drawing the rest of the water blank, they realized 
 that every mullet had escaped. 
 
 The disappointed hunters landed through the 
 maggoty seaweed which had attracted the fish, 
 and making their way along the stream that 
 flows into the creek, reached the mill where the 
 otter intended to hover. To her dismay she 
 found the holt behind the wheel in possession of 
 another otter with cubs, and quite young ones, 
 as she could teU by their squeals. It was a 
 difficult situation, for day was near ; but she was 
 equal to it. Without losing an instant, she 
 hastened back along her trail towards the only 
 other lodging she knew within easy reach — a 
 hole in the wall of the quay. They might be 
 
UNEASY QUARTERS 55 
 
 detected whilst making for it, so the mother 
 scanned the sleeping port from the end of the 
 promontory before committing herself to the 
 open; but as nobody stirred, the three made 
 across the estuary straight towards it. When 
 they were about mid-passage, where the tide ran 
 strongest, a big fish leaped clear of the water 
 and fell with a resounding splash. It was a 
 salmon. The cubs turned their questioning 
 eyes on their mother, but she gave no heed. 
 She was filled with anxiety lest the hole in the 
 quay should prove to be beyond their reach. 
 High above the water though it was, she herself 
 entered it easily, for she could throw herself out 
 of the water almost like a seal ; but, as she had 
 feared, the cubs feU back again and again. The 
 whistling of the distressed creatures must have 
 been audible to anyone on the quay. An old 
 man was, indeed, there, putting out the green 
 light which had frightened the cubs as they 
 crossed, but he was as deaf as his ladder, and 
 before he approached the edge to see how 
 high the tide had risen, they had made their 
 greatest effort and gained the shelter of the 
 masonry. 
 
 That day they hardly slept a wink. They 
 were within earshot of the busiest spot in the 
 
56 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 port, and every one of the varied sounds that 
 reached them was a cause for fresh anxiety. To 
 the ceaseless pacing to and fro of hobbler and 
 pilot there was soon added the shout of the fish- 
 hawker, the bell of the town-crier, and other 
 sounds of trade, varied towards noon by the 
 squeakings of Punch and Judy, the yelping of 
 Toby, and the roars of laughter that punctuated 
 their performance — a strange hullabaloo indeed 
 for the shy wildhngs that had been reared in the 
 quiet of the desolate moorland, where only the 
 calls of bird and beast reached them ; and many 
 a time through the trying hours they longed to be 
 back in the morass, under the cairn, or in the 
 cave now so far back on the trail. Welcome at 
 last to their eyes were the dying rays that fired 
 the windows of the cottages across the harbour ; 
 doubly welcome the departure of the last fisher- 
 man from the quay-head. His footsteps had 
 scarcely died away when the otters slid down the 
 face of the wall into the water and, threading 
 the moorings of the boats above them, rose to 
 the surface in the fairway. Three dark spots 
 that to the man leaning over the side of the 
 brigantine might weU have seemed three corks, 
 showed where the otters swam noiselessly towards 
 the harbour-mouth. 
 
AMONGST THE PORPOISES 57 
 
 After they had passed the last buoy and, 
 indeed, covered most of the mile that sepa- 
 rated them from the lighthouse, they learnt 
 that they were not the only creatures abroad 
 that fine summer night. Barely a furlong 
 could have separated them from the castles that 
 once guarded the narrow entrance when they 
 caught sight of some monsters whose noisy 
 breathing, growing louder and louder as they 
 drew near, might well have proved most terrify- 
 ing to the easily scared cubs, had not their 
 mother's indifference convinced them they had 
 nothing to fear ; and presently mother and cubs 
 were among the shoal of porpoises, the great 
 backs of which gleamed as they showed above 
 the waves. The mother knew the errand of 
 these corsairs, and understood that they were 
 raiding the salmon that the flooded river had 
 attracted from the offing. Awakened memories 
 of great chases in the pools and of feasts on the 
 banks flashed across her brain as she swam, and 
 before she set foot on the point opposite the 
 lighthouse she resolved to complete the round 
 with as little delay as possible 9,nd regain the 
 upper reaches of the river, where she could teach 
 the cubs how to weary out the fresh-run fish and 
 bring them to the bank. 
 
 8 
 
58 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 But the lesson she had come to give the cubs 
 in the sea itself was not a whit less important, 
 she thought, as she watched their wonderment 
 on beholding the vast liquid plain that stretched 
 out to no shore their piercing gaze could discern. 
 Streamlet, pool, river, creek, estuary — aU in turn 
 had been cause for astonishment, but on the ocean 
 they looked with awe. And it was theirs to fish 
 in. In the recognition of this spacious hunting- 
 ground the timid creatures quite forgot the 
 terrors of the quay, which had but momentarily 
 passed from their minds in the presence of the 
 porpoises, and the next minute they were follow- 
 ing in the wake of their mother as she swam 
 towards the Gull Rock in the midst of the cliff- 
 skirted bay. Bravely the cubs faced the waves, 
 and bravely they battled, with the surf through 
 which they landed ; then they looked to their 
 mother to direct them how to fish in the deep 
 water by which they were surrounded. 
 
 They had not long to wait. After a glance at 
 the birds on the ledges above her head, she dived; 
 both cubs instantly dived, too, and putting forth 
 all the strength of their hind-legs, they succeeded 
 in keeping her in sight along the spiral course by 
 which she made her way down and down to the 
 bottom, full six fathoms below. To their sur- 
 
THE WASTEFUL HUNTERS 59 
 
 prise, they found the bed of the sea alive with 
 tiny shell-fish, which they spurned here and there 
 as they quested. On their left rose a wall of 
 rock, in turning the point of which they came 
 face to face with a turbot, that the otter seized 
 and bore writhing to the surface. The cubs, 
 who rose with her, kept gripping the fish as they 
 swam, and by the time they reached the landing- 
 place it had ceased to struggle. Then all three 
 settled down to the feast. Nothing but the tail 
 and backbone remained when they again took to 
 the water. This time they made the circuit of 
 the rock, and the male cub, rising from beneath, 
 seized a pollack, carried it in triumph to a reef 
 just a- wash with the tide, and there consumed it. 
 Before he had quite finished, the other cub, and 
 later, the otter, were busy devouring wrasse they 
 had taken. When they had eaten their fill, the 
 young otters amused themselves in capturing fish 
 which they no longer needed but left uneaten ; 
 and it was over these abandoned spoils that the 
 gulls clamoured at dawn, whilst the otters lay in 
 a cave they had entered by a submerged mouth 
 at the foot of the cliffs. Curled up in pits on the 
 sand above the line of flotsam, with the roar of 
 the sea to lull them, the cubs soon dropped 
 asleep ; but the mother, her thoughts on the big 
 
60 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 silvery salmon, lay awake making her plans, till 
 at length she, too, yielded to her fatigue and 
 slept Hke the cubs. 
 
 Night had fallen when the otters stole through 
 the outlet, left half uncovered by the ebb, and 
 swam with rapid strokes for the head of the bay. 
 They were off to a new fishing-ground. They 
 landed where a stream crosses the beach and, 
 striking into the valley down which it flows, fol- 
 lowed its course without a halt, until they reached 
 the junction of the two rivulets that form it. 
 There, however, the otter stood irresolute. Each 
 water led towards a delectable destination — the 
 one to the salmon pools, the other to her native 
 marsh, with its abundant food-supply and secure 
 hovers among the reed-beds — and which to make 
 for she could not decide, until it struck her that 
 the cubs might never find the outlying water 
 without her. Then she set aside her hesitation, 
 and held along the western branch at a pace 
 quicker than before, as if to recover the time 
 lost in making up her mind. 
 
 Leaving the vaUey about a mUe above the 
 confluence, she cut straight across the middle of 
 the hilly field to the upper corner, where a flock 
 of lambs stood awestruck to watch the strange 
 intruders chmb the bank into the next pasture. 
 
THE GIPSIES' BIVOUAC 61 
 
 from which the otters could hear the startled 
 creatures stamping with excitement, until first 
 the otter, then the cubs one after the other, got 
 over the wall and dropped into a neglected road. 
 This led to a stately gateway with big iron gates, 
 and beneath them the animals crept to the moss- 
 grown drive, flecked by the moonlight which 
 filtered through the arching crowns of the oaks. 
 They passed a mole-heap or two and numerous 
 little pits scratched by rabbits, but the way was 
 innocent of rut or hoof-mark or any. evidence of 
 man's proximity. Yet they had not long been 
 following its windings before they all at once 
 found themselves face to face with a scene that 
 filled them with consternation. At a spot where 
 the road makes a sharp bend about an angle of 
 the cliff lay a heap of ruddy embers, and near 
 them a dog. The animal was not asleep, but 
 stretched to his full length and, as his restless 
 ears showed, alert to the slightest sound. His 
 every movement was visible against the dying 
 fire, the glow of which fell on the curtained 
 window of a caravan and dimly revealed the 
 gnarled branches above it. The otters, thoroughly 
 alive to the danger of attack, stood ready to 
 defend themselves ; but, seeing that the enemy 
 gave no sign, they sidled towards the overgrown 
 
62 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 riding-path just beyond the firelight, and gained 
 it without attracting the dog's attention. The 
 moment, however, the herbage rustled with their 
 movements his head was raised and pointed 
 towards the very spot where they stood con- 
 cealed. Still as death, they regarded the lurcher 
 through the fronds, nor did they advance a single 
 step tiU the drooping of the pricked ears and the 
 resettling of the long head on the fore-legs showed 
 that suspicion was lulled. Then, with a stealth 
 that cheated the prating ferns, they left their 
 shelter, stole noiselessly as shadows past the 
 gipsy's bivouac and the side road by which the 
 human nomads had come, and escaped into 
 the safe darkness beyond, where the murmur of 
 the sea far below reached their ears. 
 
 After passing the haunted house to which the 
 long avenue led, they came to a cairn with a 
 roofless lookout, so placed as to survey the wild 
 coast-line. Here the wanderers again struck 
 inland until they came to a high wall that 
 threatened to bar their advance. But the otter 
 knew the way and, threading the nettles border- 
 ing the stubble, reached the drain that gives easy 
 access to the park. As if glad to be clear of the 
 prickly harvest-field, the little band made down 
 the slope at a gallop, passing between groups of 
 
THE SANCTUARY 63 
 
 trees that cast deep shadows on the turf. In the 
 herbage of the hollow only their backs showed, 
 but every hair was exposed when they breasted 
 the opposite slope, over whose crest the land dips 
 abruptly to a fishpond. At a headlong pace they 
 dashed between the stems of the pines to the 
 edge, of the water, into which they glided as 
 noiselessly as voles. So swift were their move- 
 ments that almost before their presence was 
 known each otter had seized a white trout and 
 risen to the surface. One came up near the 
 boathouse, another in the shadow of an hydrangea, 
 the third near the only bit of moonlit bank by 
 the overflow ; and aU three swam towards the 
 island, where they lay under the plumes of the 
 pampas-grass and devoured their take. They 
 ate three or four fish apiece before their hunger 
 was satisfied, and then began chasing one another 
 over the rocks, from which the sea stretched like 
 a plain of beaten silver. Soon they returned 
 along the overflow to the pond, where they gam- 
 bolled as fearlessly as they had done in the creek 
 and other lone spots in their wanderings. 
 
 To the surprise of the cubs, the taint of man 
 on the path caused their mother no disquietude ; 
 not once did she stop her play to listen or peer 
 into the bosky gloom about her. Strange dis- 
 
64 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 regard of danger in a creature both suspicious 
 and apprehensive, yet not difficult of explanation. 
 For aU the demesne within the park wall had 
 long been a sanctuary for bird and beast. Not a 
 gun had been fired there nor a trap set time out 
 of mind ; and so confiding had even otters become 
 that they used the drain on the island to litter 
 in, and would lay up in the holt by the moat 
 under the very windows of the mansion. 
 
 Behind one of these a light had just before 
 been burning, where the young squire sat record- 
 ing the day's sport with his hounds along the 
 stream in which the otter had taught the cubs 
 to fish. But as he wrote he heard the otter 
 whistle. On the instant he dropped his pen, 
 turned down the lamp and, seizing a field-glass, 
 took his seat by the open window. Keen otter- 
 hunter as he was, he was no less keen a naturalist. 
 Deer, foxes, badgers, seals, aU interested him, 
 though not to the same degree as the otter. The 
 fascination this creature had for him was wonder- 
 ful. To him it was the homeless hunter, the 
 Bedouin of the wild, the subtlest and most 
 enduring of quaiTy, the gamest of the game. 
 Therefore he sat with glass to eye watching the 
 lighted space between two clumps of rhodo- 
 dendrons where he expected the otters would 
 
THE SQUIRE'S EXCITEMENT 65 
 
 show, His hands shook and his heart beat 
 faster than its wont ; for the life of him he could 
 not suppress the excitement he felt. Presently 
 a shadow, a moving shadow, followed by another 
 and yet another, darkened the sward — these 
 were the otters ; and without a wink he watched 
 them cross the turf to the ferny border of the 
 moat, where, though he could see them no longer, 
 he could follow their movements by the twitch- 
 ing of the fronds tiU, a few seconds later, they 
 entered the water and pursued their graceful 
 gambols full in his view. Once the otter, 
 attracted by scent or sound, or both, half rose 
 out of the moat and looked over the low bank ; 
 but the moment she saw that the intruders were 
 only a badger and two cubs she feU again to her 
 romps. Later she looked up and scrutinized the 
 strange object at the window. The squire re- 
 mained as motionless as the gargoyles ; her sus- 
 picion was allayed, and once more she resumed 
 her frolics. Anon the trio stole away and, 
 passing through the drain beneath the park wall 
 by which the badgers had found an entrance, 
 gained the valley where the weary hounds lay 
 asleep in their kennels. But without a thought 
 of hound or anything else save the marsh to 
 which she was hurrying, the otter made across 
 
 9 
 
66 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 the barren holdings beyond and, before the squire 
 had given up hope of their reappearance and 
 resumed his pen, she had dropped from the 
 boundary wall of Cold Comfort Farm and set 
 foot on the waste that stretches to the very tip 
 of the promontory. 
 
 The wanderers kept near the cliffs, going 
 straight from angle to angle of the indentations 
 that mark the jagged coast-line. Here and there 
 they moved along the edge, so close one behind 
 the other as to look like one creature, presenting 
 even, at times, a snake-like appearance, especially 
 when twisting in and out of the colony of ant- 
 heaps that dotted the long slope within a mile of 
 their destination. Near the top they disturbed 
 a wheatear from amongst some cushions of with- 
 ered sea-pinks ; but not another creature did they 
 see until abreast of the seal rock, where a cor- 
 morant stood watching for the dawn. Then, 
 striking the marsh at the end of a finger-like 
 creek, they followed the bank above it till the 
 mere with its reed-beds lay before them. Not 
 a breath ruffled the surface : the array of stems 
 stood motionless as forest-trees : all was strangely 
 still/ save that the sea was heaving ominously. 
 After a keen scrutiny of the cottage opposite 
 them and a single glance at the sand-bar to the 
 
THE MALE CUB IN A HUFF 67 
 
 left, the otter trotted down the bank and, enter- 
 ing the water, swam towards the farther shore. 
 But when near the wall of reeds she half- wheeled, 
 and coasted along the curves of the little bays, 
 skirting the lily-beds where she had disported 
 when a cub. 
 
 Till now the finny tenants of the mere had 
 given no sign of their presence ; but as the otters 
 drew near the inflow a dace jumped out of the 
 water, and the jaws of a pike showed above the 
 surface within a few inches of it. The sight 
 stirred the hunting instincts of the male cub 
 and so great was his rage at his mother's indif- 
 ference that, when she crossed the current on 
 her way to the creek, he turned back, deter- 
 mined to hover by himself. He landed on a 
 point between two bays and trampled a couch 
 at the food of the reeds. An old otter could not 
 have chosen a kennel seemingly safer, yet scarcely 
 had he curled up when a most alarming noise 
 struck his ears. It was the creak of oars against 
 the thole-pins, and it grew louder and louder till 
 he jumped to his feet to see what was coming. 
 Almost immediately the bow of a boat appeared 
 round a clump of bulrushes, and at the oars bent 
 the old marshman in his reed-plaited hat and 
 guernsey frock, all lit up by the red sun, now just 
 
68 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 above the bar. The rower shipped the oars, 
 turned round on his seat, and dropped the killiek 
 quietly overboard ; but the boat still moved for- 
 ward till the painter stopped the way on it, less 
 than a score of yards from the otter, who looked 
 on at the baiting and setting of the lines, and 
 even the lighting of a pipe before the old man 
 settled down to watch the floats. 
 
 Motionless though the fisherman sat, the otter 
 remained on the alert and, whenever the old 
 man rose to land a fish, was on the point of 
 diving and making his escape from so dangerous 
 a neighbour. Thus hour after hour passed, and 
 the morning wore away with no change in the 
 situation, save that a little before noon black 
 clouds rose above the horizon and drifted into 
 the blue spaces of the sky. Intent on his fishing, 
 the marshman took little notice of the sudden 
 change of weather, until a gust of wind shook 
 the reed-bed and big drops of rain began to fall. 
 Then, casting a few unfeasy glances to windward, 
 he pulled in his lines, raised the kilhck, pressed 
 his hat on his head, and rowed away. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE FAMILY BROKEN UP 
 
 Sitting there, the cub watched the lurid after- 
 glow fade, dusk creep over the rough water, and 
 the sky darken till a star appeared in a break 
 between the scudding wrack. Then he rose and 
 listened. The waves broke against, the point, 
 the reeds hissed, the breakers thundered on the 
 bar, but no call from his mother reached his 
 eager ears. He was beginning to fear she had 
 deserted him when from across the mere came 
 the shrill summons. Immediately he dived and, 
 rising almost at once, headed at excited pace for 
 the creek, where soon, to his delight, he viewed 
 his mother and sister swimming to meet him. 
 The wild gambols that followed in the midst of 
 the mere did not last long, for there was hunting 
 to be done. 
 
 The quarry the otter had set her mind on 
 were the pike frequenting the reedy bays, towards 
 the largest of which the hunters swam. Near a 
 bed of lilies they dived, and had not made half 
 the circuit of the wall of stems before they espied 
 
 69 
 
70 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 a pike. He had already seen them, and in an 
 instant the protruding muzzle was withdrawn as 
 the fish backed into his ambush. It aiforded him 
 no refuge from the pursuers, who drove him from 
 one to another of its recesses, and pressed him so 
 closely that, as he saw, to remain meant capture- 
 Out he flashed and, had he made right away and 
 gained the heart of the mere, he would have 
 escaped. But he sought the shelter of another 
 lily-bed almost within sight of the first, and there 
 the otters followed in unrelenting chase. Pre- 
 sently he was gripped by the male cub, but, 
 freeing himself, forsook the weeds for the water 
 outside, where, with distended jaws and fins 
 erect, he darted now here, now there, to avoid 
 his harassing pursuers. All was in vain. He had 
 missed his earlier opportunities, and to escape in 
 his exhausted condition was impossible. Conscious 
 of this and determined not to die unavenged, he 
 summoned his remaining strength, dashed at the 
 otter, seized her by the throat, and held on 
 despite her struggles. This however left him at 
 the mercy of the cubs. Instantly they fastened 
 on his shoulders and, using their powerfiil rudders, 
 tried to raise him to the surface. Beating his 
 tail, the fish for awhile succeeded in resisting 
 their efforts ; but in the end he tired, and pre- 
 
THE PIKE TAKEN ASHORE 71 
 
 sently the writhing mass came to the top of the 
 lake and, rolling over and over, showed now on 
 the crest, now in the trough of the waves. There 
 the otter wrenched herself free and, half-throttled 
 though she was, at once joined in the attack. 
 The three soon overpowered their prey and 
 landed with it at an opening in the reeds. Whilst 
 they were dragging it from the water's edge a 
 tremor passed through the fish. Immediately 
 the hungry hunters relaxed their hold, fell to 
 and sliced and sliced and champed and champed 
 till weUnigh half the fish was eaten and the 
 great backbone showed. The feast over, they 
 licked their chops, brushed their whiskers against 
 the stems and, taking to the water, played hide- 
 and-seek amongst the lilies. 
 
 The exultation they felt over their capture 
 showed in their excited gambols and in their 
 wild rush through the reed-bed on their way to 
 the bar. They crossed this at a gallop to the 
 edge of the tide, plunged into the breakers and, 
 reaching the quieter water beyond the surf, 
 headed straight for the great pile of rocks over 
 which the spray was dashing in clouds. On 
 landing, they threaded the sobbing passages 
 between the boulders and gained the caves that 
 honeycomb the cliff behind. There they came 
 
72 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 on the remains of old feasts — fish bones, crab and 
 lobster shells — and on old nests made of reeds. 
 One cave there was where the muffled boom of 
 the waves was broken by the tinkle of falling 
 water, and where the skeletons of otters whitened 
 the floor on the edge of the runlet that had worn 
 a channel in the rock. Quickly leaving it, the 
 animals made their way back along the low, 
 tortuous passage by which they had entered and, 
 passing through the outer caves, regained the 
 clitter. There they chased one another until 
 they tired. Then they took to the sea, reached 
 the line of the breakers, and landed through the 
 welter as easily as, later, they landed on the bank 
 of the mere by the inflow. The otter was then 
 leading her cubs to the withy-bed and to the 
 boggy ground between it and the old decoy, 
 where she trod the water-mint as she went. 
 
 So the hours of darkness were spent, and when 
 the grey light told of coming day otter and cubs 
 slipped into the stream and drifted towards the 
 mere. On reaching the choppy water they fell 
 to swimming, turned up the sheltered creek, 
 skirted the island where two of them had ken- 
 nelled the day before, and landed near a bramble 
 brake, in which they curled up side by side. The 
 cubs soon slept, but the excitement of the 
 
A WILD NIGHT 78 
 
 journey to the salmon river kept the otter awake 
 longing for dusk, so eager was she to cross the 
 moors and reach the pools. She dropped asleep 
 at last, but awoke long before setting-out time 
 and, whilst awaiting nightfall, watched the angry- 
 sun go down and the clouds scud by close over- 
 head. 
 
 Before it was quite dark she aroused the cubs, 
 and made up the hilly ground towards the heart 
 of the moor. It was a wild night, but the fury 
 of the gale seemed to quicken the energies of the 
 wanderers, for they breasted the foothills at a 
 pace beyond their wont and soon gained the 
 high plateau with its chain of pools, known to 
 men as the Black Liddens. These they swam as 
 they came to them, passed to the heathery waste 
 with its old Stone Circle, and reached the marshy 
 valley and the lazy stream which supphes the 
 mere. The wind had little force there — the 
 thorns, shaggy with lichen, stood motionless, 
 even the bulrushes scarcely stirred ; but over a 
 stagnant backwater a wiU-o'- the -wisp kept 
 dancing like a lantern swung by invisible hands. 
 Splash 1 splash 1 the otters crossed the shallow 
 pool near the stream ; and again, splash 1 splash I 
 they rushed through the shoal water beyond it 
 before turning up the brae that led to the wind- 
 
 10 
 
74 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 swept moor. On, on the untiring creatures sped, 
 more like agents of darkness executing some 
 urgent commission than beasts of prey speeding 
 to a new fishing-ground. Mile after mile of the 
 desolate upland they traversed : at one spot 
 skirting a cairn whence came that weirdest of all 
 wild cries, the shrill chattering of badgers; at 
 another, passing the only road over the moor, 
 where they left their footprints between the 
 fresh wheel-marks of the doctor's trap. A sleep- 
 ing hamlet rose almost in their path, and so close 
 did they approach that they heard the creaking 
 of the signboard of the Druid's Arms, about 
 which the cottages cluster. Then over wall after 
 wall they clambered as they came to the crofters' 
 holdings, reached the lodge of the keeper who 
 had been the otter's terror when her cubs were 
 helpless, gained the edge of the moorland above 
 the old nursery, made their way down the very 
 gully along which the hounds had followed the 
 fox and, leaping the stream close to the hover, 
 came out on the salmon pool beyond the 
 poplar. 
 
 Eager to see whether the pool held a fish, the 
 otter slipped into the water and swam to the 
 favourite lie near the foot of the fall. A salmon 
 was there, and towards it she advanced so swiftly 
 
CHASE OF THE SALMON 75 
 
 that it seemed she must fasten before it could 
 become aware of her presence. But the fish had 
 been harried by otters on its way up from the 
 estuary, and was prepared for her coming. In a 
 flash he was off downstream, leaving the otter 
 far in his wake. At the tail of the pool he 
 swung round, raising a big wave that greatly 
 excited the cubs where they watched on the 
 edge of the bank. After a short interval the 
 wave came again, and again, and again. Later 
 the salmon leapt clear of the white water near 
 the fall. And so the chase continued, until the 
 otter, seeing how vain were her unaided efforts, 
 summoned the cubs to her assistance. In an 
 instant they slipped into the pool and joined in 
 the pursuit. 
 
 Now wherever the salmon turns an otter meets 
 him. Conscious of the danger he is in, he rushes 
 at the shallows in a daring attempt to reach the 
 waters below. His three enemies hurry after 
 him, breaking the surface in their desperate haste, 
 and while he is still floundering the otter closes 
 and strives to grip him beneath the gills. No 
 defence has he but his slippery scales and the 
 lashing tail that sweeps his foes aside. But these 
 avail, and before the teeth fasten in him he 
 struggles through to the deep water beyond, 
 
76 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 where he easily outdistances his pursuers. Pool 
 after pool he passes at his utmost speed, making 
 for a refuge that lies near the foot of the rapids. 
 He had rested in it on his way up the river, and 
 now swings into it and stays there gasping, in 
 dread of discovery. The otters soon show on the 
 top of the rushing waters, which they search as 
 they descend, ducking their heads, and yet avoid- 
 ing the rocks against which the current threatens 
 to dash them. In a few seconds they are close to 
 the spot where the fish lies exhausted, and surely 
 one or other will get a glimpse of him. But no, 
 the sheltering rock befriends him, or the foaming 
 waters amidst which he lies. The hunters pass 
 on ; but he is not safe yet. If they draw the 
 rapids against the stream they can hardly miss 
 him. But wiU they ? Apparently not — at least, 
 not for the moment. They are going on, despite 
 the near approach of day. How carefully they 
 examine the hollow banks and recesses of the 
 boulders, disdaining even the grilse they disturb, 
 in their expectation of yet getting the salmon 1 
 Beneath the gloomy pines that form a vista 
 towards the brightening east they swim, eager as 
 ever. 
 
 But, clear of the trees, they all at once 
 cease their quest and listen. Some suspicious 
 
THE PURSUERS PURSUED 77 
 
 sound downstream has alarmpd them. They are 
 all ears when, above the voice of the river and 
 the wild rustling of the tree-tops, the penetrating 
 note again makes itself heard. It is the toot of 
 the horn. The twice-hunted otter dreads that 
 sound above all sounds save the cry of the 
 hounds, and before it has died away she and the 
 cubs are in full retreat to the holt in the salmon 
 pool. Only at long intervals do they rise to 
 vent before reaching the rapids, where they leave 
 the water and gallop up the bank, as if fear 
 itself were at their heels. At the top they re- 
 enter the river, and so gain the shelter of the 
 alder-roots near the fall. 
 
 The cubs, feeling safe in the holt, make their 
 toilet as usual ; but the otter listens, and before 
 long catches the dreaded cry. Then the cubs 
 hear it too: they begin to share their mother's 
 alarm and, when the swelling clamour tells of 
 the close approach of their enemies, seek the 
 inmost recess of their refuge. Soon the hounds 
 enter the pool and cluster like maddened things 
 about the holt. ' A good solid mark,' shouts 
 the doctor to the squire. 'He's there right 
 enough.' The foremost hounds can see the 
 otter where she stands hissing through her white 
 teeth, but they cannot reach her. So the hounds 
 
78 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 are called ofF that a terrier may get at the quairry, 
 and after a terrible fight he compels the otter to 
 take to the water. Shouts of ' Heu gaz ' from 
 the field greet the appearance of the bubbles that 
 betray her flight, and the next moment the twelve 
 couple of hounds are in pursuit towards the 
 stickle, where a dozen men or more stand foot to 
 foot to prevent her from going down-water. 
 Round and round the big pool swims the otter, 
 rising now under the bank, now amongst the 
 hounds, narrowly escaping their jaws. Time after 
 time she returns to the cubs, but only to be 
 ejected by one or other of the terriers. At last, 
 after beiiig badly shaken by the hounds, she 
 lands, gallops round the line of men with the 
 white terrier at her rudder, and gains the water 
 beyond. At amazing speed she follows the 
 winding reaches to the rapids, and even succeeds 
 in gaining Longen Pool, famous in the annals 
 of the Hunt. However, the hounds again press 
 her sorely, and after a while she takes to the 
 tangled coppice on the hillside, traverses it, 
 reaches an ancient hedgerow matted with bramble 
 and thorn, and there lies listening, trusting to 
 have escaped pursuit. But she has left a burn- 
 ing scent, and soon the cry of the pursuers warns 
 her that her .hopes are vain. Nevertheless, as 
 
THE CUBS MOTHERLESS 79 
 
 she is very weary, and as the pool to which the 
 hedge runs down offers no harbourage, she 
 remains where she is. But though the hounds 
 soon wind her, the denseness of the thicket 
 hinders them from getting at her until the 
 terriers force her to the river. In the shallow 
 water every eye can mark her where she swims 
 and note her shortening dives. The end is near. 
 Presently Dosmary seizes her as she rises, and 
 the pack worries her life out. 
 
 That night, when the storm had passed, the 
 miller heard the cries of two otters in the tangled 
 coppice beyond the orchard, and as he knocked 
 the ashes from his pipe before going indoors, said : 
 ' They're missin' her, I'm thinkin'.' He was right. 
 It was the voice of the cubs calling for their 
 mother. 
 
 They were there again the next night, and the 
 next; after that they gave up the vain search 
 and withdrew to the moorland. 
 
 It was well for the young creatures, thus 
 thrown on their own resources, that they were 
 able to fend for themselves. Indeed, as has been 
 seen, the male cub had already shown signs of 
 revolt against his mother's authority, and of a 
 desire for independence. 
 
 He was free now, free to roam as he hked, to 
 
80 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 keep to the trail or leave it as he pleased, to fish 
 when and where he chose ; for his sister had no 
 influence over him. Yet, for all his selfish, head- 
 strong ways, he proved a safe leader, his move- 
 ments being inspired by the wariness of the 
 outlawed creature. He was a stickler for good 
 hours, rising late and couching early. He curbed 
 his passion for wandering, and showed rare 
 judgment in the choice of hovers, selecting 
 always with an eye to strength and invariably 
 shunning such as were not near deep water 
 where refuge might be sought in emergency. 
 On sallying out he generally fished upstream for 
 a mile or two, gambolled till the night was nearly 
 gone, and then floated back with the current, 
 shooting the rapids and lesser falls on the way. 
 Yet fear haunted both him and his sister, for 
 they carefully scrutinized every bush, rock, and 
 bole that might harbour an enemy, and their 
 fears grew to terror once when they happened on 
 the remains of one of their kind recently killed 
 by the hounds. On the discovery they were at 
 once all consternation, as their puffing and blow- 
 ing showed, and forthwith forsook the tributary 
 for the river, kennelling at the end of their 
 hurried retreat in a hover below the mill. They 
 lay in this holt on the following day, but the 
 
THE MALE CUB LEFT ALONE 81 
 
 next found them ensconced under the bank of 
 the weir pool at Tide End. There they were 
 waked towards noon by the tide, which rose and 
 rose till it invaded their quarters, and compelled 
 them to seek reftjge in the opposite bank, where 
 a young dog-otter was already lying up. Their 
 coming startled him not a little, but the moment 
 he saw the new arrivals were otters like himself 
 he settled down again, and soon aU three were 
 sound asleep. At dusk they journeyed on 
 together and, after fishing and sporting in the 
 salmon pool below the morass, sought the roots 
 of the alder. They lay there again on the 
 morrow, a morrow momentous in one of its 
 happenings — the separation of the cubs. For 
 when, at setting-out time, the male cub began 
 moving up-water, his sister, till that moment the 
 most faithful of followers, turned her back on 
 him and, with the strange otter at her heels, 
 struck into the wood. She had renounced the 
 brother for the lover. Is it possible, animal 
 though she is, that she can abandon the com- 
 panion of her life hitherto, without some sign of 
 regret ? May not the slowness of her steps indi- 
 cate reluctance to sever the ties that have so 
 long bound them ? Surely it is so, for just as 
 she is about to enter the undergrowth, she stops 
 
 11 
 
82 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 and turns her head to find her brother watching 
 her. The next minute, however, she has passed 
 out of his sight and out of his life, as, with her 
 mate, she follows the trail that leads by the 
 woodman's cottage and the cairn to the distant 
 mussel creek whither she is bound. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE OTTER AT THE TARN 
 
 So the otter held on his way alone, and before 
 dawn broke sought shelter in the wooded raVine 
 next the edge of the moor. 
 
 The rocky recess was one of the favourite holts 
 of his kind, partly on account of the dry lying it 
 aflForded, but more because of its congenial sur- 
 roundings. The seclusion, the gloom, the roar 
 of the fall, and the tumult of the pool all contri- 
 buted to please the shy wildling ; and he became 
 so fond of the ledge by the foaming waters that, 
 like a badger to its earth, the young nomad 
 returned to it again and again, till at length the 
 instinct to roam began to cry out against his un- 
 natural conduct and urged him to seek new 
 quarters. ' Wander, wander,' repeated the voice 
 that grew more insistent as the days stole by. 
 ' Tarry, my child, tarry,' replied the spirit of the 
 glen ; and for a while — a little while — he resolved 
 to stay. Yet before his short sojourn came to an 
 end the pool was sought by a hunted stag and 
 turned into a pandemonium. 
 
 83 
 
84 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 Not by mere chance, after rounding the base of 
 Lone Tiarn, was the beast's antlered head set for 
 the ravine. It was there he had first seen the 
 Ught, The early weeks of his life had been spent 
 in the ferny clearing where the otter's trail ran, 
 and his mother used to lead him, a dappled calf, 
 down the steep bank to drink at the shallows of 
 the otter's pool. Four years had passed since then ; 
 but the memory of the sombre, sequestered glen 
 and of the pool at the foot of the high fall was 
 still clear in his mind, and to them he turned his 
 wearied steps in the hour of his distress. After 
 crossing the rugged purlieus of the woodland, 
 he threaded his way between the stems of the 
 birches and, entering the ravine at its lower end, 
 made his way up and up along the shaded waters 
 until he came opposite the holt, where a sub- 
 merged rock permitted foothold. His wild rush 
 through the shallows had filled the startled 
 sleeper with alarm ; but the otter did not under- 
 stand the cause of the strange creature's distress 
 until the cry of the pursuers caught his ears — a 
 cry that swelled louder and louder until every 
 hound had splashed into the pool and swam 
 there, baying their quarry with deafening 
 clamour. More than once whilst the din Vas at 
 its height the otter was on the point of slipping 
 
as 
 
 'fe' 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 g 
 
 X 
 
 &i 
 
 H 
 
 'a 
 
 I 
 
HE LONGS FOR DUSK 85 
 
 into the water and stealing away; but it was 
 well he refrained, for presently the stag broke its 
 bay and made off down the river, drawing the 
 pack after it. 
 
 Then, though calm returned to the pool from 
 which it had been so ruthlessly banished, it 
 brought no peace to the otter, A peel leaped 
 where the stag had stood, trout rose where the 
 hounds had clustered, pigeons ' roohboed ' over- 
 head, and a squirrel came down and drank at the 
 water, yet the otter was still perturbed. His 
 faith in the holt was gone, and he longed for 
 dusk that he might leave it and get away from 
 the taint of hound that dfowned the scent of 
 moss and fern and poisoned the sweet, fresh 
 breath of the river. He did not await the fall of 
 night, for a faint glow yet lighted the spaces 
 between the boles when he left, and as he came 
 out upon the moor, the sky was still red with 
 the embers of sunset. Far ahead loomed the 
 familiar outline of the solitary hill, as yet un- 
 visited ; and now at last he determined to follow 
 the stream that veined it to the summit, and 
 there find the refuge that the specious ravine 
 denied. 
 
 At a good pace he moved over the heather 
 and bog till, a furlong or so beyond some stacks 
 
86 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 of turf, he came to a sudden standstill. It 
 seemed as if he had caught some suspicious 
 sound along the back trail, for his head was sud- 
 denly turned that way ; but, discerning nothing, 
 he resumed his brisk trot along the bank that 
 at this point rose high above the rushing river. 
 Soon he came to the tributary down which his 
 mother had led him and, swimming Moor Pool, 
 as the meeting of the waters is called, he crossed 
 to the opposite bank and kept it till he reached 
 the troubled ' Kieve ' at the base of the hiU. As 
 though haunted by the memory of the hounds, 
 he again looked back over the moor, now black 
 under the stars ; but in the end, after peering 
 long and satisfying himself that no enemy fol- 
 lowed his trail, he slipped into the foaming basin 
 in search of the trout it contained, and on two of 
 these fish made a hurried supper before begin- 
 ning the climb of the great cone that towered 
 grim and forlorn above him. He kept close to 
 the wild, headlong stream, and made the ascent 
 by scrambling up the rocks that abutted on fall 
 and cascade. Far, far up, his nostrils caught the 
 scent of a body of water, and in his eagerness to 
 reach it he redoubled his pace and soon gained 
 the crest. There he found himself face to face 
 with a tarn — a tarn of aspect as forbidding as 
 
THE LIFELESS TARN 87 
 
 the strangely contrasted shores that encompass 
 it, for the sheet of water lies sullen and mono- 
 tonous between precipitous rocks and a beach of 
 grey shingle. No islet rears its head above the 
 surface ; no line of flotsam marks the shelving 
 strand, The wanderer had come out on the 
 shingly beach, and after sniffing the water he 
 trotted leisurely along its edge, and presently 
 descried a small bed of reeds, tiU then hidden by 
 a rocky headland. Gladdened by the discovery, 
 he mended his pace, yet kept surveying the tarn, 
 doubtless on the lookout for signs of prey. A 
 wave in the shallows, a splash, or even a dimple, 
 any break of the water, would have betrayed the 
 presence of some finny inhabitant, of which, how- 
 ever, his nose had given him no hint ; but the 
 surface had no message for him. Neither was 
 there a single wild-fowl ; there was no animal of 
 any sort. At the far end, however, and almost 
 in his path as he made the circuit of the pool, lay 
 the skeleton of a giant pike. Though the ver- 
 tebrae had dropped into crannies between the 
 stones, the bleached skuU, its open jaws bristling 
 with teeth, was the most conspicuous object on 
 that desolate shore. Yet dry bones apparently 
 had no more interest for him than the newly 
 risen moon, for he passed on and clambered 
 
88 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 over the rocks towards the reeds, where he was 
 soon at v/ork preparing a couch in which to pass 
 the coming day. The unusual noise awoke a 
 buzzard in his eyrie above, and kept him awake 
 until the otter ceased trampling the stems and 
 entered the water ; then he lowered his head on 
 his wing and dropped asleep again. 
 
 The otter, meanwhile, swam towards the horn 
 of the' bay, his long back flush with the smfaee, 
 scarce rippled by his advance. When clear of 
 the point, he dived and began exploring the 
 recesses and ledges. There was not a harbourage 
 along the cliff's base that he did not investigate, 
 but he did not sight a single fish. Reaching the 
 glassy surface by the overflow, he spreadeagled 
 himself and drifted more and more quickly 
 towards the Up of the fall, till it seemed that 
 nothing could save him from going over; but 
 within a foot or two of the brink he suddenly 
 wheeled, and extricated himself by rapid strokes 
 that took him within a score yards of the beach. 
 Then he dived again and quested along the 
 stretch between the shallows and the deep. This 
 likely hunting-ground also proved as void of fish 
 as the water under the cliff; so at the farther 
 end he landed, shook his coat, and rolled on the 
 shingle, thus <!atching the skull of the pike, which 
 
THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 89 
 
 he sent flying over the stones. I'he rattle it 
 made caused him to run after it, and the grim 
 toy served to amuse him, for he played with it 
 much as a kitten plays with a ball. 
 
 Not so had its owner been bandied about by 
 his forbears. More than one otter, appalled by 
 his great bulk and terrible jaws, had shrunk 
 from tackling him : even the father of the cub 
 was glad, after a tussle that convulsed the 
 little bay, to reach the rocks and escape with 
 his life. But famine had effected what no enemy 
 could effect — a famine caused by the ravages of 
 otter, of heron, of cormorant, of the pike them- 
 selves, reducing the fish one by one tiU only the 
 monster of the reedy bay remained. Whilst 
 strength lasted he made a daily circuit of his 
 wasted realm for prey to satisfy his maddening 
 hunger. As his weakness increased, his beat 
 dwindled, until one day, after but a short cruise, 
 it was all he could do to regain his station among 
 the reeds. There he lingered till death claimed 
 him. His gaunt carcass, still beautiful with its 
 marblings of olive and gold, rose to the surface, 
 and the west wind wafted it to the strand, where 
 the terror of one generation became the sport of 
 the next. 
 
 The otter, however, soon tired of toying 
 
 12 
 
90 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 with the skull and, leaving it where he found 
 it, he made along the rocks towards the spot 
 where the precipice rises almost sheer from the 
 tarn, and began to scour the face of the cliff. 
 He seemed as surefooted as a marten, and never 
 once slipped or stumbled as he dropped from 
 shelf to shelf whose scanty width in places all 
 but denied foothold. Three times he made the 
 descent, leaping from ledge to ledge like the 
 overflow rushing down the hillside ; but, unlike 
 the stream, he leaped in silence, save for the 
 muffled thud of his spongy feet as they struck 
 the rock on landing. The last time he dived, 
 rose at the end of a long swim by the boulder 
 flanking the outlet, climbed to the top, and lay 
 down at frill length. The water ran from his 
 unshaken coat, leaving it smooth and refulgent 
 in the moonlight, as he reposed there gazing at 
 the windings of the river on the plain below. 
 Soon however the restless creature rose and 
 plunged again into the tarn, where he gambolled, 
 partly on the surface, but chiefly beneath amongst 
 the currents that well up from the unfathomed 
 depths. And so the hours sped till, when the 
 moon had set and the stars wellnigh paled, 
 he gave over disporting himself and swam to- 
 wards his, lair. On the way thither, forgetting 
 
AN OMINOUS INTRUDER 91 
 
 that he was alone, he uttered the dawn cry, and 
 the next moment rounded the point and gained 
 the reeds. In the grey light, the buzzard wing- 
 ing his way to the moorland saw him curled up 
 there, holding one of his pads in his mouth, — 
 asleep, as he knew by the slow, regular rise and 
 fall of his flank. 
 
 But what creature is that astir near the outlet ? 
 It must be some other wildling come to share 
 the primal solitude of the hilltop. Yet its move- 
 ments are not those of a four-footed beast. 
 Surely, surely it is a — is it possible ? Yes, it is 
 a man 1 He is clear of the rocks now, and is 
 picking his way across the current. Now he has 
 landed, and look, look how he hurries up the 
 strand, and how suddenly he drops to the ground 
 on the crest ! Strange conduct in this lone place 
 and at such an hour ! He must be under the 
 ban of his fellows, a fugitive, maybe, from hue 
 and cry, and fearful of discovery. 
 
 Nothing of the kind. That man is Grylls the 
 harbourer, from the deer forest ; but otter, not 
 stag, has drawn him here this morning, and 
 eagerness to examine the ground below is the 
 reason of his haste. Already, glass to eye, he 
 follows the course of the tributary on his left, 
 hopeful every second of seeing an otter making 
 
92 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 its way to the clitter near the stream. How 
 carefully he scans the banks, and what a time he 
 dwells on the pile of hoary rocks yet spectral in 
 the uncertain light! 'No luck, no luck,' he 
 mutters, as he turns the glass to the tributary 
 zigzagging across the western moor. Yet he is 
 all expectation, and great will be his joy if only 
 he can get a glimpse of the long, dark creature 
 hieing to some holt. Away up to the boggy 
 gathering ground he traces the narrowing water, 
 surveys in vain the pools amidst that curlew- 
 haunted waste, then with quick movement, 
 redirects the glass to the clitter, already much 
 less dim and mysterious. Little wonder that 
 that particular refuge attracts him so strongly, 
 that he scrutinizes the approaches so carefully. 
 It was there that he once marked an otter enter ; 
 and the memory of the sport it gave has drawn 
 him year after year to the hilltop in thie hope of 
 harbouring another. Again and again he surveys 
 first one stream, then the other, but with no 
 better result; then he hurriedly examines the 
 river from the foot of the hiU to Moor Pool, 
 where the hounds will presently meet. * Nothin' 
 movin', nothin' at all, and day close handy. 
 You may as well shut up the glass.' Soon the 
 fleecy clouds crowding the vault are tinged with 
 
THE HARBOURER DESPONDENT 93 
 
 rose, pool and stream catch the foreglow, the 
 reflection in the tarn is like an almond grove in 
 bloom, and the sun shows below the crimson 
 streaks that had heralded it. At the sight Grylls 
 returns the glass to his pocket and, feeling 
 chilled, jumps to his feet and walks briskly up 
 and down on the rim of the great basin to warm 
 himself. 
 
 Had he seen an otter he would by this be 
 crossing the moor to meet the squire and tell, 
 instead of pacing to and fro waiting for the 
 hounds and glancing down now and again 
 towards the spot where he expects to see them. 
 It is fuU day by this, and river and tributary 
 stream stretch across the purple moorland like 
 golden threads. ' Grand mornin'. Ah 1 if we 
 can only find !' he sighed, as the uncertainty of 
 the sport flashed across his mind. 'If I But 
 there, man, 'tes no use iffin'. Wait and hope for 
 the best.' All at once the harbourer stopped 
 and, screwing up his eyes, looked steadily towards 
 the solitary clump of pines to which from time 
 to time he had directed his gaze. • Here they 
 come, and a good few with 'em. Ah I ah I and 
 there's one, two, three, four comin' up-river, and 
 Matthey — it caan't be anybody else — crossing 
 the foord. There 'U be a brave Uttle meet to 
 
&4 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 end the season.' Then he lay down again on 
 the heather, raised the glass to his eye, and 
 turned it on the party with the hounds. ' The 
 squire and the passun, of coorse. Wonder if 
 church moosic or hound cry do stir un most. 
 " Everything in its season, GryUs," that would be 
 his answer, and said kindly. He is a good sort, 
 is the passun, and dearly loves a kill. And 
 theere's Doctor Jim, in his white hat. Lor' I he 
 ain't missed the Moor Popl meet for seven-and- 
 thirty year. Iss, seven-and-thirty year, Grylls, 
 and it's seven-and-thirty times you've sat where 
 you're sittin' now to the hour, and weUnigh to 
 the day, and '-^counting the notches on his 
 stick — ' it's nine otters you've seen killed on the 
 moor. Who can they be with the Doctor? 
 Strainyers, I reckon, stayin' at the big house 
 most like. Ah ! theere's Black Geordie, and the 
 keeper, and the landlord, and Tom "Burn the 
 Reed " walkin' with the bailiff hisself as large 
 as hfe and as brazen as Sally Strout at the 
 christenin'. Well, he's got a face, and no 
 mistake ! Wonder how many salmin he's took 
 out this turn.' 
 
 Thus he lay and made his comments whilst 
 the party approached Moor Pool, but no sooner 
 did they reach the bank than his demeanour 
 
CHANGES OF FORTUNE 95 
 
 changed and he sprang to his feet as though an 
 adder had stung him. And no wonder, for the 
 hounds at once struck the hne of the otter, and 
 made down - river at full cry. ' Well now, 
 Grylls,' said he, ' is it go or stay ? Why, stay, 
 of coorse ; sure as you're alive they'll be back 
 again.' So he stood watching and watching and 
 watching tiU hounds and men became blurred by 
 distance, and at last disappeared into the wood. 
 * You're out of it, git chucklehead I' said he, as 
 he lowered the glass. ' Why didn't 'ee go down 
 to the meet as you always do ? You're gettin' 
 lazy. You're out of it, out of it, and come 
 fifteen mile for nothin' 1 Pick up the pony and 
 shog home along ; there's nothin' else for 'ee to 
 do.' In his rage he kicked the loose rock at his 
 feet, and sent it bounding down the face of the 
 hill. Nevertheless, it was not many seconds 
 before he was again scrutinizing the spot where 
 the river falls to the ravine, and before long he 
 exclaimed, ' Halloo ! what's that ? Ah, theere 
 'tes again and again ; the glint of the horn, I'll be 
 bound.' He was all excitement now, and watch- 
 ing as he had never watched before in his life. 
 •What's that— eh, eh? It's they, it's they I 
 See, thee're crossin' the bend of Zingey Pool.' 
 Though the hounds were scarcely discernible 
 
96 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 he was right : they were returning and becoming 
 more and more distinct every minute. ' Hoorah,' 
 he shouted in his exultation; 'the otter must 
 have come up-water laast night; wheere's he 
 lyin', wonder.' His eyes, almost starting from 
 his head, followed the pack as it drew nearer and 
 nearer to Moor Pool. They reached it ; then he 
 was all anxiety to see whether they would take up 
 the tributary or keep to the river. Like a man 
 toeing the Une for a foot-race he stood ready to 
 start, and if they had gone up the stream he 
 would have descended the hill at breakneck 
 speed ; but they did not : they came on. * Niver 
 such a bit of luck in all my born days,' said he, 
 his weather-beaten face beaming with delight. 
 Presently, as the deep bay, like the bay of blood- 
 hounds, reached his ears . * What moosic I how 
 wild and savage and grand it is ! eh, and what a 
 sight for one pair of eyes I The squire 'd give 
 gold to be in my shoes.' Not for a single instant 
 did the harbourer divert his gaze from the pack. 
 ' Pretty, pretty,' he kept saying as the hounds, 
 time after time, recovered the line momentarily 
 lost. 'They're travellin' fast. It's time to be 
 going down. I'll lay a groat the otter's in the 
 Kieve.' With a bound he was off and, following 
 the overflow, had just reached the big boulder 
 
SPORT STIRS THE HARBOURER 97 
 
 from which the buzzard sometimes watched the 
 moor, when, to his surprise, he saw Dosmary 
 and Tunefal just beginning the ascent of the 
 hill. 
 
 ' Niver lyin' up round the tarn ! 'Tes ten year 
 agone since they found theere. However, here 
 they come, here the beauties come.' 
 
 There was a strange tenderness in his voice, 
 but the light that leapt to his eyes told still more 
 plainly how he was stirred. He watched them 
 for a few moments, so that the whole pack was 
 in sight before he began retracing his steps, and 
 quickly as his sinewy legs carried him up the 
 steep, the hounds had passed him when he gained 
 the crest. Quivering with excitement, he stood 
 again for a moment with his eyes on them as 
 they streamed along the strand ; then he tore 
 along in their Wake. 
 
 He might have covered twoscore yards, during 
 which the pack had swept round the end of the 
 tarn to the rocks, when a crash of music pro- 
 claimed the find, and brought him up in his 
 stride. Soon the white-and-tan heads of the 
 leading hounds showed as they rounded the 
 point. One glance he gave them — only one : 
 then his eyes were all for the otter. Whilst he 
 watched the water weU in front of the pack, 
 
 13 
 
98 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 the otter rose, shook his head, rested until his 
 pursuers were within a few yards of him, and 
 dived, showing his back and rudder. 'Takin' 
 things quietly, are 'ee?' said the harbourer in 
 high glee ; and then, presently, on observing the 
 hounds lick up the scent as they swam, ' They're 
 tonguing the ream brave.' Scarcely were the 
 words out of his mouth, when up came the otter 
 within a few yards of him. The excited ' TaUy- 
 ho !' with which he greeted him made the welkin 
 ring. 
 
 The squire would always have it that he heard 
 the penetrating scream ; but however that may 
 be, it was a good half-hour before he appeared 
 on the summit, and by that time the otter had 
 given the pack the slip and set the harbourer 
 wondering what had become of it. He was 
 amongst the reeds and hidden by the rocks when 
 the squire came up near the overflow, but his 
 cries, as he cheered the pack, betrayed his where- 
 abouts, and presently the squire hailed him across 
 the tarn : ' Have you viewed the otter, my 
 man V ' Iss, sir, over and over again, but he's 
 creapt away somewheere out of mark.' The 
 hounds raised their heads on hearing their 
 master's voice, and when he sang out, * Seek 
 him, my lads I wind him, my lads !' they bustled 
 
A TIMELY REFUGE 99 
 
 about, searching along the foot of the cliff as if 
 they meant to find ; and very soon they did find, 
 but in a place where neither hounds nor terrier 
 could reach the quarry. The doctor, who was 
 nearest, at once made his way to the spot where 
 the hounds were clamouring and, lying flat on 
 the ledge, succeeded in dislodging the game from 
 its retreat by means of the pole he carried. 
 Thus driven from his only refuge, the otter got 
 no rest. As a good scent guided the hounds, 
 the hunted creature's only chance lay in weary- 
 ing out his pursuers. And what endurance he 
 showed I He dived hither and thither for over 
 three hours and never landed once ; but all in 
 vain, the pack showed no signs of tiring. 
 
 At last, in desperation, he slipped over the fall 
 into the pool below and passed down the stream, 
 searching for a hiding-place as he went. Soon 
 he reached the boulder from which the harbourer 
 had watched the hounds and, sighting the crevice 
 at its base, swam through the narrow opening to 
 the hollowed space within. Scarcely was he 
 ensconced when he heard the cry of his pursuers, 
 and a minute later the maddened creatures were 
 roaring at the mouth of his retreat. Squire and 
 followers came tearing down the hiU, and when 
 the whipper-in had succeeded in calling off the 
 
100 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 hounds. Venom, the terrier, was sent in to drive 
 the otter out. ' He'll soon have un out,' said a 
 man in a blue guernsey who knew his worth. 
 But hard and game as the terrier was, the otter 
 was his match. So the squire must have thought, 
 for he determined to send Vic to his assistance. 
 As soon as she was released, the eager little 
 thing swam whining along the passage and 
 joined in the fight ; but, owing to the cramped 
 quarters, instead of assisting her mate she 
 hampered him. Once the tip of the otter's 
 rudder showed momentarily, raising the excite- 
 ment to fever-pitch ; but this was followed by a 
 long speU during which not a hair of either 
 terrier or otter was visible. 
 
 They'U never drive un, squire,' the woodman 
 ventured to say. Why not flood the varmint 
 out? Theere's a good head of water.' 
 
 Too good a head, I fear ; but we'll try. The 
 terriers have had about enough. Get 'em out if 
 you can.' 
 
 Watching his opportunity, the woodman 
 managed to puU Vic out almost at once, and 
 Venom after a while. Both were terribly cut 
 up. The sight of their wounds angered the 
 squire, who at once called out : ' Now, men, 
 build a dam, and look lively ; that otter shan't 
 
THE RAISING OF THE DAM 101 
 
 live another hour.' All set to work. Except 
 the whipper-in, who had as much as he could do 
 to look after the hounds, every man lent a hand. 
 Some brought big stones, others armfuls of 
 heather, others stone -crop stripped from the 
 rocks, whilst Geordie the gipsy, the parson, the 
 miller and the water -baihiF constructed the 
 dam. Under their eager hands the waU rose 
 steadily across the tail of the pool, and before 
 long the impounded stream began to creep inch 
 by inch up the face of the rock. In half an 
 hour the mouth of the holt was covered ; soon, 
 too, the stone which had provided a resting- 
 place for the otter ; so that he now was compelled 
 to plant his fore-feet against the wall to keep his 
 head above water. Still the water rose, and but 
 for the presence of the imprisoned air the hoUow 
 would have been filled and the beast forced to 
 leave and meet its fate in the open. Yet, con- 
 tracted though the space became, there was a 
 small interval between the water and the roof, 
 and there the otter's nostrils stUl found relief. 
 
 Meanwhile the men at the dam had all they 
 could do to hold the stream back ; and presently, 
 despite their frantic efforts, the obstruction gave 
 way, and the whole mass rushed roaring down 
 the hill. 
 
102 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 'Don't much matter, squire; the otter's 
 drownded before this.' 
 
 ' May be ; but will you put your hand in and 
 draw him out V 
 
 . ' No, thank 'ee,' replied the miller amidst the 
 loud laughter of the crowd. ' Geordie's the man 
 for that job.' 
 
 ' I don't mind trjring, sir,' said the gipsy, who 
 unhesitatingly approached the rock, knelt in the 
 water, put in his hand to the fuU length of his 
 arm, and began feeling blindly about the inside. 
 He had worked round three sides and reached 
 the corner to the right when the otter gripped 
 him by the ball of the thumb. His face, which 
 was half turned to the onlookers, must have 
 betrayed the pain he felt, for the woodman 
 called out : * Have 'ee got un, Geordie V 
 
 ' I don't know about that,' replied Geordie, 
 ' but he's got me.' 
 
 Slowly he drew the resisting creature towards 
 the aperture, but on being brought to the light 
 it let go, and allowed the man to rise to his feet. 
 
 'Rather a nasty wound, Geordie,' said the 
 squire, putting half a sovereign in the bleeding 
 palm. 
 
 ' Thank you, sir ; 'tes only a scratch to some 
 I've had. I'U have another try if you like, sir.' 
 
THE OTTER LEFT 103 
 
 • No, no, my man, not on any account. The 
 otter deserves his life. We'll leave him for 
 another season, and I hope we may meet again.' 
 
 Little did he dream that the game beast which 
 had baffled his best efforts was to become the 
 talk of the country-side, and would for many a 
 day disappoint his hopes and flout his plans. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE OTTEE AND HIS MATE 
 
 Rathek more than a year has passed since the 
 hunt. The vegetation then in flower, after 
 blooming again, has lost its glory, and is now 
 withering and dying. In the marsh the reeds 
 are sapless, the flags stained by decay, the taU- 
 stemmed flowering plants shrivelled to skeletons, 
 disarray and discoloration appear ever3rwhere, 
 save perhaps in the velvet spikes of the mace- 
 reed, whose hue yet rivals in its rich umber the 
 pelt of the otter curled up below them on the 
 spot where he lay in the days of rebellious cub- 
 hood. But what a huge fellow he has grown! 
 Fine whelp though he was, he has developed 
 beyond all promise, and there is not an otter on 
 his rounds that can compare with him. He is 
 inches longer and pounds heavier even than his 
 father, and it is little wonder that he should have 
 attracted the notice of sportsmen and become 
 the talk of the country-side. For though since 
 he reached his prime no one has caught more 
 than a glimpse of him, yet keeper, bailiff and 
 
 104 
 
THE SQUIRE DISAPPOINTED 105 
 
 moorman have all come on his footprints and 
 given such reports of their size that intel-est has 
 become widespread and people have flocked from 
 far and near to the meets in the hope of seeing 
 him found and hunted. 
 
 No one was more interested than the squire, 
 but he succeeded in concealing the excitement he 
 felt, unless, perhaps, it showed in his very caustic 
 language to the field at the least tendency to 
 press the hounds ; and when the season ended 
 without the otter beiilg accounted for, no one 
 save his wife and the old butler knew hi& disap- 
 pointment. But disappointed he was ; and indeed 
 it was almost inexplicable that the hounds should 
 not have chanced on the otter, for he kept to the 
 usual trails and kennelled in the well-known 
 holts. Once they followed his line to the creek, 
 but there, owing to the rising tide, the pursuit 
 had to be abandoned. At another time they 
 actually drew over him where he lay far in under 
 the bank out of mark. 
 
 Yet if he bore a charmed life to hunter and 
 hound, he was not fortunate enough to keep 
 quite clear of the other perils that beset him. 
 After having long avoided traps set here and 
 there on his path, he was caught when about 
 fourteen months old by a gin laid in a shallow, 
 
 14 
 
106 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 and he carried the cruel engine about with him 
 for three days before the chain became so en- 
 tangled in an alder-root that he was able to 
 wrench himself free. Soon after he was shot 
 at by old Ikey, the wild-fowler, in the channel 
 connecting the Big and the Little Liddens. His 
 quickness in diving at the flash alone saved him, 
 for the man was a dead shot. One night he 
 came on a gang of poachers ' burning the reed ' 
 in the pool below the morass, and stood to watch 
 them, fascinated by the flare that Ut up the 
 excited faces bending over the water. But 
 though scared by the sight of his enemies, he 
 went only a short distance out of his way to 
 avoid them, and soon after was chasing a salmon 
 in Moor Pool, kUling in time to make a hurried 
 meal and reach the tarn before dawn. 
 
 Long, arduous and generally vain was his 
 pursuit of the fresh-run fish ; but, mighty hunter 
 that he was, he was successful now and then, 
 and enjoyed a hard-earned feast. 
 
 It was after such an achievement that the 
 bailiff" stood a-stare at his tracks, and shouted to 
 the miller to come down to him. ' What do 'ee 
 think of it ?' he asked. « Think of it ?' said the 
 miller, who had noticed only the remains of the 
 otter's banquet, * think of it ? You didn't holloa 
 
ALWAYS ON THE MOVE 107 
 
 like that for an old ^sh, did 'ee? I thought 
 
 somebody was drow ' Before he could finish 
 
 the word he saw and, understanding, added in a 
 changed tone : ♦ Well, well, they prents beat all 
 1 ever did see. I'd give a sack of bests to clap 
 eyes on the varmint as left 'em. Where's a lyin', 
 wonder Anywheres handy, do 'ee think V 
 
 •It's a safe offer you're making, William 
 Richard. You'll nae see the canny vagabond 
 the day. He's no couching near the kill, I'm 
 thinking, but miles and miles awa' — at Lone 
 Tarrn, maybe, or by the Leeddens. That print ' 
 — and he pointed to a footmark half in and half 
 out of the water — ' seems to say he was travel- 
 ling up- water.' 
 
 The bailiff was right in supposing that the 
 otter had sought a distant couch, but wrong as 
 to the direction it took and its whereabouts. At 
 that moment the animal was curled up asleep in 
 Rundle's oak coppice overhanging the estuary, 
 ten miles away as the river winds. The next day 
 he was in the bat-cave, but he had not come to 
 stay. At night he was off again, nor did he arrest 
 his steps save to fish and call along the lonely 
 reaches which led to the swamp he was bound for, 
 a good league beyond the bridge. Indeed, he was 
 always on the move, seeming to think it unsafe 
 
108 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 to sleep two successive days in the same hover. 
 In one fastness, however, he was content to linger. 
 — the headland between the Gull Rock and the 
 Shark's Fin. There he would stay for days 
 together, held by the drear solitude, the supply of 
 fish, and the snug Ijdng in the caves that honey- 
 combed the cliff, where man never came, and 
 where, whether the wind blew from the east or 
 from the west, the otter, who disliked exposure to 
 it as much as any fox, could always find a recess 
 on the lee side to shelter in. He took no notice 
 of the tolling of the bell that marked the reef on 
 which he often landed, and the only thing that 
 drove him away was the flooding of his hovers 
 by tempestuous seas. This at last made him 
 seek the drain in the island of the squire's pond 
 the day before he came to the marsh, sharing it 
 with two other dog-otters, refugees like himself. 
 At dusk he foraged along-shore despite the heavy 
 ground seas, and at peep of day returned to his 
 old couch at the foot of the reeds. 
 
 To see him lying there no one would dream 
 that he lived in fear of his life. His breathing is 
 placid, his limbs are quiet ; no whimper, telling 
 of disturbing dreams, escapes his lips ; the very 
 lapdog on the hearth might be more troubled 
 than he. Nor does he seem to be the ferocious 
 
THE SAVAGE OUTLAW 109 
 
 beast he is till he raises his head and peers sus- 
 piciously through the stems; then the fierce, 
 restless eyes proclaim him a savage and an out- 
 law as he scans bar and cliff and creek. On the 
 bare patch on the hillside his glance rests a 
 moment — one would say the removal of the 
 furze was a matter of concern to him ; but soon, 
 apparently satisfied, he falls to grooniing the 
 glossy coat which is his pride. He bestows 
 much care on the massive fore-limbs and on the 
 huge, splayed feet whose prints have stirred the 
 imagination of the neighbourhood. A bit of ftir 
 on his grey waistcoat not being all he would have 
 it, he licks it again and again ^ and so the after- 
 noon passes, till the starlings come flying in to 
 roost, the shadows creep over the furze, and the 
 mists gather on the mere. 
 
 When night had quite closed in, he rose, 
 slipped into the water and, coming up a good 
 gunshot away, swam rapidly towards the beach. 
 In the shallows he turned his mask as if to make 
 sure the mist harboured no enemy, and then took 
 across the bar, spuming the pebbles and seaweed 
 as he ran. At the edge of the tide he looked 
 back again, but as nothing met his eyes save the 
 ridge and the stars that shone above it, he moved 
 leisurely down the shelving strand, plunged into 
 
110 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 the curl of the wave, came up in the rough water 
 beyond, made straight for the fishing -ground 
 some two furlongs from the shore, dived, and 
 began scouring the sand and the rocks that 
 chequered it. He looked more like a conger 
 than a beast of prey ; yet the fish were quick to 
 recognize their dreaded enemy, and darted from 
 his path. Of sand-eels and flat-fish he took no 
 heed, but gave chase to a bass, pursuing it tiU it 
 was lost to sight in the depths beyond ; then, his 
 lungs being exhausted, he shot up through the 
 seven fathoms of water and lay awhile on the 
 surface, now in the trough, now in the crest of 
 the wave, with his face towards the moon, which 
 had risen clear of the headland. He seemed to 
 be listening, perhaps to the booming in the caves 
 or to the tolling of the bell on the Shark's Fin, 
 but more probably to the surf about the Seal 
 Rock, for presently he swam towards this 
 favourite landing-place. Within a stone's throw 
 of it, however, he dived, and made his way in 
 a spiral down and down until he reached the 
 mouth of a cave in the base of the great pyramid 
 of which the rock is the peak. 
 
 He knew the place well, for he had been 
 worsted there by a conger some months before, 
 and he had come now in quest of the same fish. 
 
THE SUBMARINE CAVE 111 
 
 His head was scarcely through the weeds that 
 half screened the entrance when he sighted his 
 enemy, who on the instant retreated to its 
 stronghold in the wall of the cave. There, 
 quicker than it takes to tell, each fastened on the 
 other. Matched in weight and strength as they 
 were, it is doubtful whether the otter would have 
 got the mastery even in the open : in the conger's 
 own retreat the attempt was hopeless. But the 
 otter did not realize that, and made frantic eflfbrts 
 to drag the fish from its den. Despite them aU he 
 failed to move it a single inch, and the only result 
 of his struggles was to free himself from the 
 conger's jaws. When his breath was all but 
 exhausted he relinquished his hold and turned to 
 go. Thereupon the conger, taking the offensive, 
 made a grab at him ; it tried to seize him again 
 near the mouth of the cave to which it pursued 
 him, but in both cases it failed to get a grip of 
 the slippery skin, and the next minute the otter 
 was at the surface. 
 
 He had not done with his antagonist. As 
 soon as his lungs were refilled, he dived again, 
 and in a trice was back in the cave, face to face 
 with his enemy, this time with tactics sobered by 
 experience. Instead of laying hold of the fish, he 
 kept making feints at it and retreating, with the 
 
112 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 object of enticing it into the open ; but the wily 
 conger- never budged. 
 
 Then the otter examined the wall of the cave 
 in the hope of getting at the fish from behind, 
 where the powerful tail gripped the rock. There 
 was no way in, however, and again the baulked 
 marauder had to ascend to take breath. Three 
 times more he made his way down to the mouth 
 of the den, dodging to and fro within a foot of 
 the duU green motionless eyes ; but in the end 
 he gave up hope and left. 
 
 As he rose to the surface the last time he 
 seized a pollack with such eagerness that his 
 teeth met through it, and this he took to the 
 rock and devoured. Then, swimming towards 
 the shore, he fished along the cliifs, catching 
 wrasse which he left uneaten on the weed-covered 
 ledges where he landed, till at length, tired of 
 wanton destruction, he entered the clitter, and 
 after a long interval came out on the topmost 
 boulder, gained the crest of the cliff, and so 
 crossed to the creek. There he cruised restlessly 
 from bank to bank, raising himself at times half 
 out of the water and looking round as if in search 
 of something. Presently he took to the furze 
 brake that mantles the slope and, traversing the 
 bare patch, passed up the misty valley, only ta 
 
A NIGHT OF UNREST 113 
 
 return to the sand-hills beyond the cottage, where 
 like an embodied spirit of unrest, he wandered 
 from dune to dune, repeating at times the shrill 
 whistle he had already sounded from the Seal 
 Rock and the bends of the stream that winds 
 along the valley, and standing with raised head 
 pointed now this way, now that, to listen. Once 
 he thought he heard an answering call, but 
 presently discovered his error, and from that 
 moment gave over calling. 
 
 Thus he spent the hours of the long night 
 before returning to his lair, where he busied 
 himself in cleansing his lips and whiskers of the 
 slime that adhered to them and smoothing the 
 patches of his coat, disarranged by the conger's 
 jaws. He was long over his toilet, but longer 
 still in falling asleep: the recollection of his 
 defeat kept him awake and caused the hair to 
 rise on his neck as it had risen on the neck of 
 his father at the thought of the pike of Lone 
 Tarn, so that the sun had climbed to half its 
 height before he drowsed and forgot his troubles. 
 Consequently it was late when he bestirred him- 
 self and took to the mere, where another dog- 
 otter was already fishing. For a long time each 
 was ignorant of the other's presience, but at last 
 chance brought them together, and as the 
 
 15 
 
114 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 stranger flashed by, the otter saw that both ears 
 were torn and that he was otherwise scarred by 
 fighting. Later the two animals passed and 
 repassed one another on the surface, and towards 
 dawn, when the otter made for his couch, the 
 new-comer crossed the beach towards the cliiFs, 
 
 That night the otter, whilst calling from the 
 Seal Rock, heard a rival call from far away across 
 the water in the direction of the Shark's Fin. 
 Later the cry came from the cliffs below Cold 
 Comfort Farm, and close on cockcrow from the 
 clitter where he himself had called an hour before. 
 Every minute he expected the stranger to round 
 the bluff and cross the bar, and presently he saw 
 him come over the pebble ridge and slip into the 
 mere. It was the otter of the night before, who 
 passed down the creek, landed opposite the island, 
 and lay up under the ftirze. 
 
 At nightfall both otters, apparently on good 
 terms, were fishing near the inflow, when the 
 shrill summons of a female reached their ears 
 and set them aflame with passion. They swam 
 as fast as their legs could propel them to the 
 spot whence the call proceeded, and as soon as 
 the otter had landed and licked the face of the 
 skittish little creature awaiting the rivals, he 
 turned to face his enemy. Like two ftiries they 
 
THE RIVALS FIGHT 115 
 
 fought in the shallows churned with their in- 
 cessant movements. As they struggled they got 
 into deeper water, where, locked together, they 
 sank beneath the surface, and so long did they 
 remain immersed that it seemed as though both 
 must be drowned. But the eddies by some 
 decaying lilies told that the fight was still going 
 on, and at last the beasts came up, it might be a 
 yard apart. Quick as lightning they closed again 
 and, rolling over and over, passed from sight a 
 second time in the convulsed water. Then they 
 half rose, and lashing the water with their power- 
 ful tails, kept snapping at each other with a 
 viciousness that nothing could exceed, their 
 savage snarls mingling with the clash of their 
 teeth when they failed to get home. For over 
 an hour the conflict raged, now above, now below 
 the surface, till in the end,, the old otter, unable 
 to continue the battle, dived to escape further 
 mauling from his victorious foe. But the wild 
 creature's jealousy is never appeased unless its 
 rival is utterly worsted ; and a relentless pursuit 
 followed. The bitch otter, now all ears as she 
 had been all eyes, heard the landing, first of the 
 fugitive, then of his enraged pursuer, and soon 
 the crashing of the stems that told of further 
 conflict. At length, in the silence that succeeded 
 
116 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 the noise of strife, she saw the victor emerge 
 from the mist as he swam towards the spot 
 where she awaited him. Thus, by the discom- 
 fiture of the tyrant who had been the terror of 
 every young dog-otter on his rounds, the otter 
 won the little mate who was to share his lot. 
 
 Happier than they were, two otters could not 
 be. Their close companionship proved it. Where 
 one was, there was the other. They fished in 
 company, they hovered together, and when they 
 journeyed to fresh fishing-grounds they travelled 
 side by side. A fortnight after they had paired 
 they made their way up the vaUey of the stream 
 that supplies the mere, and laid up in holts 
 known to the female otter. Three nights' fishing 
 and roaming brought them to the great quagmire 
 where the stream rises, which in summer is but 
 a thread of water winding through the waste of 
 cotton grasses that nod over it. All day they 
 lay asleep on dry couches in the heart of the 
 mire, and at dusk the female led over the high 
 ridge to the watershed that slopes to the northern 
 cliffs where she had been reared. The stream 
 they followed empties itself near a hamlet, and 
 there in the cove under the very windows they 
 fished until daybreak drove them to the cave 
 where they intended to hover. Shaking their 
 
THE SEAL CAVES 117 
 
 coats, they entered — to find an otter already in 
 possession. The instant he raised his mask they 
 saw it was he of the scarred face, hut before they 
 advanced a yard he had risen to his feet and was 
 in full flight towards another outlet. The in- 
 fluence of the fight was still on him, and he 
 preferred retreat, even by daylight, to risk of 
 another mauling. They never saw him again. 
 
 The otters stayed in the neighbourhood of the 
 hamlet over a week, and during their sojourn 
 nothing disturbed them, ndthing even made them 
 prick their ears, except the creaking of the oars 
 as the fishermen rowed past their quarters. On 
 leaving they moved westwards, and beyond two 
 wild headlands came at dawn to the beetUng cliffs 
 where the seals have their dwelling in vast 
 caverns hollowed by the Atlantic. Swimming 
 through the turmoil of water at the narrow 
 mouth of the nearest cave, they landed half-way 
 in, climbed to a ledge, from that to another 
 higher still, and there lay down on the bare rock 
 and licked themselves, pausing now and again to 
 look at the seals reclining on the beach of white 
 sand that loomed in the darkness shrouding the 
 inmost part of the cave. When they had com- 
 pleted their toilet they curled up on the smooth 
 slab and, being weary after their long swim, fell 
 
118 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 asleep, despite the incessant cries of the seals and 
 the ceaseless roar of the waves. They did not 
 awake till the last rays of the sun illumined the 
 surf at the cave's mouth ; but when the shags 
 came fljang in to roost, they bestirred themselves, 
 and presently sallied out to fish on the edge of 
 the tide-race and gambol in the swirls of the 
 boiling eddies. 
 
 They used the cave for nearly a week, until 
 tempted by the very fine weather to lie out. 
 Then for three days they hovered in the basin at 
 the summit of the Pillar Rock, al)Out a furlong 
 from the cliffs, their presence known only to the 
 gulls and gannets that sailed overhead. On 
 resuming their round, they came, after four hours' 
 joumejdng, to the beach of the Gulf Stream 
 fronting the west, and there they fished and 
 frolicked amongst the waves that broke on the 
 shelly strand, and sought couches amongst the 
 sea-rushes that tuft the dunes. They lingered 
 there week after week till the weather changed, 
 but on the night of a lurid sunset, rounded the 
 grim promontory which marks the end of all the 
 land, and set their faces towards the marsh. On 
 the way thither the female otter kept biting off 
 the rushes and carrying them in her mouth, and 
 when she reached the mere she at once chose a 
 
CUBS 119 
 
 place in the heart of the reed-hed to make a nest. 
 From it soon proceeded the faint squeals of four 
 baby otters, the rearing of which, as it proved, 
 was to try the resources of herself and her mate 
 to the utmost. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 FROST AND FAMINE 
 
 After the night on which the whelps were born 
 the otter repaired to his old hover on the point, 
 whence he could slip into the water by day and, 
 without exposing himself, catch what fish his 
 mate needed to make good the drain on her 
 strength. In going to and from the spot near 
 the nest where he left his takings for her he soon 
 beat a path amongst the reeds, by which the 
 little mother reached the mere at nightfall and 
 joined her mate in raiding the fish that seemed 
 more abundant than ever. Eels indeed were 
 scarce since the autumn migration, but of pike, 
 tench and bream there was great store. On 
 these the otters fed for the most part ; but occa- 
 sionally they fished in the sea, and took toll of 
 the poUack, plaice, conger and shell-fish found in 
 the inshore waters. They could not have wished 
 for greater variety of prey, and the supply seemed 
 as assured as it was inexhaustible. 
 
 But there was soon to steal upon the unsus- 
 pecting creatures a frost which exceeded in 
 
 120 
 
SEVERE FROST 121 
 
 severity any visitation of cold that even the old 
 marshman had witnessed. It set in whilst the 
 cubs were yet blind, and on the second night the 
 water near the nest was frozen thick enough to 
 bear the otter's weight, as were also the shallows 
 near the bar, for he landed on the ice there to 
 eat his supper. Before many days passed, strings 
 of wild-fowl arrived, causing great rejoicing to 
 the otters, who, far from regarding them as har- 
 bingers of famine, foresaw an agreeable change 
 in their usual fish diet. Nor had they occasion 
 to look with apprehension on the gradual en- 
 croachment of the ice, inasmuch as the breathing- 
 holes which they made and kept open enabled 
 them to range as freely as before the frost. Of 
 course, they had to bring their prey to the open 
 water ; but for the trouble this gave them they 
 found some compensation in the convenient land- 
 ing-place aflforded by the edge of the ice, which 
 was soon dotted with the remains of their repasts. 
 Moreover, the great sheet of ice served them as 
 a playground when they were weary of gambol- 
 ling in the mere, and on it they cut mad capers 
 which held the mallard, widgeon, and teal at gaze. 
 Protected by their thick coats the creatures 
 enjoyed the biting cold, and the cubs, cuddled 
 together in the cosy nest, suffered no ill effects 
 
 16 
 
122 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 from its rigour. The pike, like the otters, 
 revelled in the frost; but the tench, and the 
 eels that had not gone to sea, felt its pinch, and 
 the bream forsook their usual feeding-grounds. 
 Where these gregarious fish had betaken them- 
 selves the otters never knew, but the eels and 
 tench buried themselves in the mud and gave 
 much trouble in the capture. StiU, disagreeable 
 though the process was, both these fish were to 
 be had by patient searching in the ooze — at least, 
 it was so at first ; then the ground ice, which had 
 gripped the stems of the weeds, spread and spread 
 as the cold increased, until it formed an impene- 
 trable layer over most of the bed of the mere. 
 This followed on the withdrawal of the sea-fish 
 to the warmer depths of the offing, inaccessible 
 to the otters, which were thus caused no little 
 uneasiness. 
 
 It was the closing of the breathing-holes how- 
 ever a few days later that seriously alarmed 
 them, all but costing the dog-otter his life ; for, 
 never dreaming that he would be unable to 
 reopen them at will as heretofore and get the air 
 he needed, he made without misgiving for the 
 best hunting-ground, far in beneath the ice-field, 
 and after capturing a pike, swam unconcernedly 
 to the nearest vent-hole. A single bump of his 
 
A RACE FOR LIFE 123 
 
 head, hitherto sufficient, failing to break the 
 crust, he delivered two more blows in quick suc- 
 cession ; and when these proved of no effect, he 
 saw his danger, and hurried to the next vent- 
 hole, hard by a frozen-in trimmer. One. blow, 
 and only one, did he give ; then he dropped the 
 pike, and with lightning - like strokes of his 
 powerful hind-legs made for the open water. It 
 was a race for life, and he knew it. His lungs 
 ached for want of air ; again and again in the 
 next few seconds — seconds that seemed hours — 
 he was on the point of opening his mouth and 
 throat to find an impossible relief, but he forbore, 
 holding on his desperate way, till presently he 
 shot from under the ice-roof and drew breath 
 again in the frosty air. He had escaped drown- 
 ing, but only to be confronted the very next 
 night with difficulties even more aggravated. 
 
 The cold had then reached its greatest inten- 
 sity. The marshman was conscious of its severity 
 as he sat by the fire, listening to the honking of 
 the geese and the trumpeting of the swans — rare 
 sounds, that were music to the aged wild-fowler, 
 and kept him to the chimney-corner later than 
 his wont. Yet at daybreak he was at his lattice 
 to get a view of the overnight arrivals. To his 
 amazement, not a living thing could he see. He 
 
124 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 rubbed the pane, he rubbed his eyes, and looked 
 again ; then he realized — ^what he had never seen 
 before — ^that the mere was completely frozen. 
 Despite the depth of the water, the current, and 
 the restless movements of the wild-fowl, the frost 
 had had its way ; the vast sheet was one con- 
 tinuous field of steel-blue ice. The otters had 
 witnessed the sealing of the mere, had watched 
 the ducks, geese and swans take wing and melt 
 into the night, before they realized their desperate 
 situation ; then, had the cubs been able to travel, 
 they would at once have turned their back on 
 the marshland, as the wild-fowl had done, and 
 made across country for the salmon river, where 
 fish crowded the spawning-beds. But as yet the 
 cubs could only sprawl, and to carry them over 
 'the miles of moorland that lay between or to 
 attempt to reach it by way of the sea and the 
 estuary was out of the question ; they had no 
 choice but to stay and face the famine that 
 threatened. 
 
 As yet they had not suffered at all ; indeed, 
 they had caught more fish than they needed, and 
 for their leavings the hill-foxes regularly visited 
 the ice. Amongst them was a poor, half-starved 
 vixen, who, along with the otters, witnessed the 
 ice meet across the strait of open water. Thin 
 
THEY TURN TO THE LAND 125 
 
 as she was, her lot was preferable to that of the 
 otter, with cubs wholly dependent on her ; for it 
 seemed impossible to support them unless the 
 frost should soon relent. 
 
 Shut oiF from the mere and the stream that 
 fed it, the night after the closing of the ice the 
 otters turned to the land and quested wherever 
 cover afforded prospect of finding prey. They 
 threaded the reeds and fiirze-brake, they drew 
 the two osier-beds and tussocky ground between 
 them, but met with nothing save a few dead 
 starlings, from whose sorry skeletons they turned 
 away, hungry though they were. On the next 
 night the hard-set creatures made their way 
 along the stream until they came to the sohtary 
 homestead in the heart of the western moor. 
 There they left the ice, clambered up the high 
 bank, and climbed the farmyard wall to the 
 cart-shed, where, standing on their hind-legs, they 
 examined the crannies in the wall for snails, but 
 found none. Coming out, they skirted the pig- 
 sty, passed between an alder-tree and the lighted 
 window, and just as they rounded the" corner of 
 the house, found themselves almost face to face 
 with a white cat. Savage tom though he was, 
 he never thought of fighting. In a twinkling he 
 was in full retreat, with both otters at his heels. 
 
126 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 The male was the faster, and he pressed the cat 
 very closely across the small garden in front of 
 the house, through a gap in the wall, and along 
 the strip of field at the side. He must have 
 overtaken it before reaching the gate had not the 
 cat suddenly swerved and gained a couple of feet, 
 maintaining the lead until it passed through the 
 hole in the stable door at the upper end of the 
 farmyard. The otter followed. Scarcely were 
 they out of sight when the female otter came up 
 the yard on their scent, and also passed in 
 through the aperture at the foot of the door. A 
 fearful spitting ensued, and immediately the cat 
 reappeared with the male so close behind that 
 his nose aU but touched the big fluflfed-out 
 brush. At a desperate pace both sped over the 
 frozen dung-heap towards the alder-tree ; the cat 
 swarmed up, despite the efforts of the otter to 
 seize it, and from its safe perch amongst the top- 
 most branches sat looking down at both otters, 
 from whose nostrils the breath issued like jets of 
 steam. Presently the blazing up of the furze 
 fire within drew the eyes of the otters to the 
 window, and when a shadow fell on the blind 
 they slunk away, followed the rude cart-track to 
 the boundary of the farm, and struck straight 
 across the moor in the direction of the Liddens. 
 
FAMINE 127 
 
 A bitter wind swept the waste, but they held 
 on in the teeth of it, crossed the frozen pools, and 
 headed for the mere. On reaching it the female 
 otter made straight for the nest, where she lay 
 oppressed with the dread of famine, till fatigue 
 had its way and sleep made her deaf to the 
 plaints of her unfed cubs. At dusk she and her 
 mate foraged alongshore and found a few limpets, 
 on which they managed to keep themselves and 
 the whelps from starving until the supply failed. 
 Then the httle mother, driven to extremity, 
 dulled the gnawing pangs of hunger with seaweed. 
 
 To the famine under which parents and whelps 
 were wasting was presently added the outlawed 
 creature's most treacherous enemy — a fall of 
 snow. It began one morning soon after they 
 had sought their couches, and did not cease until 
 a thick covering lay on the marsh and on the 
 hiUs about it. That night the otters again 
 foraged along the coast, but nothing passed their 
 lips save a few more limpets and a little water 
 from the runnel which still trickled in the cave 
 behind the clitter. Yet, distressed as they were, 
 they rolled and gambolled on the snow in the 
 heart of the mere, whence the tell-tale trails 
 diverged, ready to betray their whereabouts to 
 the first comer. Some hours later, however. 
 
128 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 more snow fell, obliterating the tracks, and 
 spreiading a coverlet over mother and young 
 where they slumbered in the deep nest. The 
 mother's light sleep was broken by the creaking 
 of the windlass over the well and the quacking 
 of the marshman's ducks, but both sounds, under 
 the muffling effect of the snow, seemed to come 
 from far beyond the cottage. The quacking of 
 the ducks was so tantalizing to the famished 
 creature that she actually left the nest and, with 
 just the arch of her back showing above the 
 snow, stole towards the spot whence the noise 
 proceeded. On and on she forged her way, and 
 actually advanced to within gunshot of the 
 duck-house. Then her courage failed her, and 
 caused her to retreat along the furrow she had 
 made. 
 
 She was afoot again at early nightfall, joined 
 her mate and followed him to the shore. After 
 they had fished far and wide to no purpose 
 she turned to him with a distracted look that 
 meant, ' Whither now V For answer he shifted 
 his gaze from her face towards the cottage ; and 
 when, after some hesitation, he moved towards 
 it, she understood, and took her place at his 
 heels. They passed very near the nest — ^near 
 enough indeed to catch, despite the loud rustling 
 
A DANGEROUS RAID 129 
 
 of the reeds, the plaints of the cubs. On hearing 
 the pitiful cries, the mother, her maternal in- 
 stincts stirred, quickened her pace in a succession 
 of leaps that gave her the lead, which she main- 
 tained until the sight of the cottage brought her 
 to a standstill and her mate to her side ; then, 
 with their necks raised like little watch-towers, 
 their keen eyes reconnoitred the enemy's dwell- 
 ing. Nobody stirred, no light showed ; the 
 whistling wind favoured them ; all seemed pro- 
 pitious, and they drew near the duck-house. 
 Within a few yards of the door they suddenly 
 halted, turning their heads towards the cottage. 
 But it was a needless alarm ; the noise that 
 scared them was only the scraping of the wall by 
 the branch of a medlar-tree. The instant they 
 discovered the cause of their hesitation they 
 stepped forward, and put their noses to the crack 
 at the bottom of the door. The scent of the 
 birds within nearly drove the starving creatures 
 mad. But how were they to get at them? 
 Though only a wooden partition separated them 
 from the savoury prey, it was enough. They 
 never thought of biting through it; to crawl 
 under or dig their way in was impossible, and 
 the aperture at the top seemed out of their reach. 
 Nevertheless, this opening was their only chance 
 
 17 
 
130 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 of entrance ; and frantic were the efforts they 
 made to obtain a hold on the top of the door. 
 More than once the otter all but succeeded ; had 
 his claws been long and sharp instead of short 
 and blunted, he would have got a footing and 
 probably an entry. But the door rattled and 
 creaked with their futile attempts, and the noise, 
 with the quacking of the terror-stricken ducks, 
 reached the ears of the marshman as he lay listen- 
 ing to the gale. Old and stiff though he was, it 
 was the work of a moment to jump out of bed, 
 open the lattice, and shout at the top of his voice. 
 At the sound the guilty creatures stole away in 
 the direction of the big osier-bed ; yet their lot 
 was so desperate that when they neared the furze- 
 rick the little mother stopped and looked back. 
 Despite her dread of the marshman, she would 
 have returned to the duck-house had her mate 
 been wilUng ; but whilst she stood he kept on, 
 and presently she followed and overtook him. 
 It was with weary steps they plodded forward, 
 hopeless as two otters can be. Whither could 
 they turn ? Not to the hiUs, whence even a pole- 
 cat had come to the marsh to forage ; not to the 
 cliffs nor inshore waters ; they knew them only 
 too well. And so with no goal to make for, the 
 luckless creatures passed into the night. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 TRACKED 
 
 Day had scarcely broken when the old marsh- 
 man came busthng out of his cottage to see 
 whether the fox — as he supposed the marauder 
 to be — had carried off any of his ducks. Before 
 he had crossed the little garden, however, he 
 descried the snow-marks on the door and, from 
 their size, judged them to be made by a badger, 
 tiU his eyes fell on the unmistakable trail out- 
 side the gate, which placed the raiders' identity 
 beyond aU possible doubt. 
 
 ' Oters ! Lor, whoever would ha' thought it V 
 And then, as he remembered that the mere was 
 frozen and the creatures shut off from the water, 
 the expression of surprise changed to one of 
 triumph, and forgetting for a moment his de- 
 crepitude, he exultingly exclaimed: 'They're 
 mine — sure as eggs, they're mine I' It was not 
 their destruction that elated him, but the pros- 
 pect — the almost certain prospect — of securing 
 their pelts, and of adding a sovereign to the 
 dwindling store in the thatch. 
 
 131 
 
132 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 Of course, before he could dispose of the skins 
 he must find the otters, and shoot them when 
 found ; but what could be easier, he thought, 
 than to track them down with such a trail ; and 
 then even he, old and infirm though he was, 
 could hardly fail to hit the long-bodied creatures 
 as they left their couches and floundered through 
 the snow. So easy did the task seem in the first 
 flush of excitement, before the difficulties pre- 
 sented themselves, crowding upon him as if to 
 shake him from his purpose. The bitterness of 
 the wind, the depths of the drifts, the possibility 
 — nay, the probability, of the creatures having 
 sought the cliffs, his own physical debiUty : aU 
 confi:onted him, but only to be made light of and 
 swept aside before he turned and hobbled back 
 to the cottage, determined at aU costs to make 
 the attempt. 
 
 On crossing the threshold he went straight to 
 the hearth, his eyes raised to the two guns and 
 a brass blunderbuss that rested on wooden pegs 
 above it. The fliatlock was within easy reach ; 
 but it was the modern gun he meant to use and, 
 standing on tiptoe, he managed to grasp the 
 hammers and take it down. A little over a year 
 before, when he had put the wonderful piece 
 there, he thought he should never use it again. 
 
DOUBTFUL OF HIS POWERS 138 
 
 never dreaming of such an easy chance as that 
 offered by otters on the sihowed-up mere. 
 
 ' Can I hold straight enow, wonder.' ' Iss, 
 sure,' came the complacent answer; 'you can 
 hold straight enow for that.' 
 
 Nevertheless, as if conscious that he could not 
 and fearing to put his enfeebled powers to the 
 test, he kept blowing on the barrels, though 
 all the dust had gone, until at last, remembering 
 the dark, snow-laden sky, he raised the stock to 
 his shoulder, shut one eye, and looked along the 
 gun. In his younger days man and weapon 
 might have been molten together in bronze, so 
 steadily could he stand and hold; but now, as 
 he had dreaded, the sight zig-zagged over the 
 pane when he aimed at a starUng on the medlar- 
 tree outside. 
 
 ' 'Tis no use ; couldn't hit a seal, leave alone 
 an oter, with muzzle wobblin' all over the place 
 like that — dear, dear, oh, dear 1' and he sank into 
 the corner of the settle. 
 
 But as he sat before the furze fire which 
 a girl was tending, warmth came back to his 
 hands, the thought of the golden sovereign 
 quickened his blood, and he resolved to make a 
 second attempt. Rising to his feet, he again 
 raised the gun to his shoulder and, holding his 
 
134 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 breath, aimed at the bird still bunched up on the 
 swaying branch. As the sight kept fairly true 
 to the mark, confidence returned, the old man's 
 face brightened, and resting the weapon against 
 the table, he set about his preparations. He 
 fetched from a drawer in the dresser powder- 
 flask, shot-pouch, caps and wads ; he loaded both 
 barrels, and replaced the ramrod. Then he 
 turned up the collar of his worn velveteen coat, 
 pulled the badger-skin cap over his ears and, 
 telUng the child he should not be away long, 
 sallied out with the gun at half-cock imder his 
 arm. 
 
 The trail led past the frozen-in boat towards 
 the tossing withy-bed, but just before reaching it, 
 swerved unexpectedly, as if the creatures had 
 caught a glimpse of some forager who had fore- 
 stalled them, or had all at once thought it best 
 to make without delay for the farther side of the 
 marsh. Bending his bowed figure as he turned, 
 the old man set his face to the gale and plodded 
 bravely along by the side of the tracks, the snow 
 in places reaching half-way up his leather leggings. 
 The depth of it made him hopeful that the otters 
 had not gone far before lying up ; so, as he drew 
 near each bit of cover that offered harbourage, 
 he raised the hammers and held the gun at the 
 
FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 135 
 
 ready. He did this again and again, whilst beat- 
 ing the tussocky ground on the farther bank ot 
 the stream, where the otters had stayed to quesf 
 before crossing the unbroken expanse of snow 
 that stretched to the foot of the hill. 
 
 At every stride now he was getting more and 
 more under shelter of the land ; every score yards 
 the snow was becoming appreciably deeper and 
 deeper, until at last it lay in a big drift that 
 threatened to bar his way. A break in the 
 embankment, fluted and esealloped by the wind, 
 showed where the otters had tunnelled their way 
 through ; and the old man, sanguine as to their 
 near neighbourhood, after blowing on his numbed 
 fingers, tightened his grip on the barrels and 
 determined to follow. As the drift was formid- 
 able enough to daunt a younger and a taller man, 
 he twice shrank from committing himself to the 
 smothering mass. But again the thought of the 
 golden sovereign, now as he believed so nearly 
 his, lured him on : he held the gun above his 
 head, went at the yielding obstacle, sank in it, 
 disappeared aU but hand and gun, fought with it, 
 and at last battled through. Furiously brushing 
 the snow out of his eyes, he looked eagerly to 
 right and to left, thinking the game was afoot 
 and striving to escape ; but among the laid reeds 
 
136 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 that met his gaze no living thing stirred: only 
 the big and the httle trails, as plain as under the 
 wall of the duck-house, wound in and out 
 amongst the stems, trending in the direction of 
 the mere. ' No hurry, my beauties ; I shaU come 
 up wi' 'ee by-and-by ;' and snap, snap, went the 
 brittle reeds as he made his slow way through 
 them. He kept looking eagerly ahead as though 
 he expected to catch sight of the game retreat- 
 ing before his noisy advance, but nothing caught 
 his eye save the wing of a moorhen on which 
 some fortunate forager had broken his fast. 
 
 Yet though he saw nothing of the otters them- 
 selves, he came on evidence in the snow which 
 told him they had not spent the night wholly in 
 wandering. Between the reeds and the creek 
 were the beaten places where they had roUed, 
 and a gunshot farther, the slope down which 
 they had slid. On sighting the slide he stopped, 
 astonished that famine-stricken creatures, as he 
 knew they must be, could waste a moment in 
 gambols. 'Most playsomest critturs on God's 
 eerth,' said he; but at once resumed his mur- 
 derous errand, now with grave misgivings lest he 
 should presently discover that the otters had kept 
 straight on to the bar and cliffs, and got beyond 
 his reach. He was greatly elated, therefore, on 
 
A LIKELY HOLT 137 
 
 reaching the furzy foreland, to find that his fears 
 were groundless, that the otters, instead of cross- 
 ing the mouth of the creek, had rounded the 
 point and passed up the inlet ; for so he felt sure 
 of coming upon them, and most probably in the 
 nearer of the two likeliest holts towards which, 
 whenever he peeped from under the sheltering 
 peak of his cap, the gleaming eyes were directed. 
 It was the ancient pollard whence he had twice 
 seen an otter steal away as he sculled past the 
 island on which it grew. 
 
 ' They're theere right enow,' the old man said 
 when he saw the trail turn that way, and raising 
 both hammers to full cock, he went on with a 
 stealth he had not before thought necessary. As 
 he reached the island he lost the tracks under the 
 snow-laden tangle. This he proceeded to beat 
 thoroughly ; but as he did not really expect to 
 find the quarry there, presently he ceased tramp- 
 ling, looked towards the hoUow trunk where he 
 beheved they were, called out, ' Harkin', are 'ee ?' 
 crept as close to the bole as he dared, and peeped 
 through the cleft. He was obliged to keep at 
 some httle distance to get a fair shot when they 
 bolted ; and screw his eyes and crane his neck as 
 he might, it was impossible to distinguish the 
 dark bodies in the gloomy recess. He felt sure 
 
 18 
 
138 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 however they were there, and it occurred to 
 him he might dislodge them with a snowball. 
 Taking up a cake of snow that bore the. impress 
 of his hobnaUed soles, he made two balls, which 
 he hurled in quick succession through the open- 
 ing. The second was scarcely out of his hand 
 before he picked up the gun he had laid down, 
 and stood ready to shoot the animals as they 
 escaped ; but still no otter showed. ' Not theere 
 after aU, s'pose,' said he; yet he advanced on 
 tiptoe to the tree, kicked it, and jumped back 
 with an agility that showed his expectations 
 were not quite exhausted. Again there was no 
 response: nothing stirred except the snow that 
 fell from the rickety crown. Then he walked up 
 to the tree, and peering through the crack, 
 examined the dusky shell from root to branch to 
 find nothing save an old nest with fish-bones on 
 the ground beside it. 
 
 Convinced at last that the otters reaUy were 
 not there, he proceeded to make a cast beyond 
 the island, using the gun to steady him as he 
 crossed some exposed ice to the snow. There 
 the sight of the trail brought home to him 
 his want of prevision, and threw him into a 
 rage. 
 
 * Drat my stupid old head, why didn't I ring 
 
ALL EXPECTATION 139 
 
 the eyot afore?' came the quick, hot words. 
 •Once bit, twice shy,' he growled, and strode 
 from bank to bank in search of a return trail 
 which would prevent his being fooled again. 
 But neither on the open snow nor amongst the 
 reeds was there a sign that the otters had broken 
 back. On regaining the track he advanced along 
 it, confident now that the creatures were lying up 
 at the end of the creek. 
 
 ' At laist, and worth all the trouble. In pride 
 of pelt they'll be. Take your time mind, aim 
 for the head, and the big un fust.' 
 
 The nearer he got to the end of the inlet, 
 the more agitated he became, until, on reach- 
 ing the spot where the otters had passed in 
 single file between two tussocks before entering 
 the brambles, he was in a fever of agitation. But 
 despite his excitement, the precautions he took 
 showed he had got himself well in hand, that he 
 was anxious to make the most of his hardly- 
 earned chance. He raised the flaps of his cap 
 that no sound might escape his ears ; he brushed 
 away every particle of snow from the barrels of 
 the gun, and to satisfy himself that the weapon 
 would not miss fire, he raised the copper caps and 
 saw that the powder was stiU up in the nipples. 
 Then, everything being ready, he began to 
 
140 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 trample upon the matted sprays in order to 
 drive the otters from their last possible retreat. 
 
 He had taken some half a dozen steps when a 
 patch of snow falling from the brambles well in 
 front informed him that something was afoot. 
 On the instant he stopped to listen, whilst his 
 restless eyes sought the likely points of escape, 
 and the gun shook in his nervous hands. As 
 the otters did not show, he felt sure they were 
 stealing away before him, and carefully watched 
 some reeds into which they must pass on leaving 
 the thicket. Seeing a slight agitation in the 
 stems, he tore like a madman through the rest of 
 the scrub, and stood at the edge ready to shoot. 
 But, too excited to await the otters' pleasure, after 
 the briefest delay he advanced again, not how- 
 ever with the reckless strides of a few moments 
 before, but with gingerly tread, as if now that 
 the supreme moment had come he was appre- 
 hensive of dislodging the creatures he was so 
 eager to kill. He had taken a few cautious steps 
 when there was a slight rustling; then, to his 
 dismay, a bittern rose and flew down the creek. 
 Up went the gun, the fore-finger found, but did 
 not pull, the trigger; and the bird escaped 
 without further scare. It was a terrible dis- 
 appointment, under which the old man collapsed. 
 
SIGHTS THE FOOTPRINTS 141 
 
 The gun fell from his shoulder ; his jaw dropped ; 
 the eyes, but an instant before fuU of fire, were 
 dull and listless. He seemed inches shorter as 
 he staggered through the reeds and along the 
 gully towards a small enclosure about which the 
 banks rose almost sheer. 
 
 'Niver can be in the Piskies' Parlour to be 
 sure ; and yet how could they get out V 
 
 The words were scarcely out of his mouth 
 when his eyes fell on the fresh marks against the 
 face of the scarp. Then he saw the footprints 
 left on the snow by the otters as they sprang 
 to the lowest ledge. 
 
 ' Has the frost touched my brain, or the little 
 folks my eyes ? Nonsense 1 nothin' of the kind ; 
 thee'rt seein' things as they are. Well, well,' 
 he went on after drawing a long breath, ' I've 
 been wanderin' about the ma'sh for weUnigh 
 fifty year, and come on many tracks, but never 
 pren,ts like these. Lor mercy I must be a mighty 
 big varmint as left 'em. What a catch if only I 
 could ha' bagged un !' 
 
 The sight of the footprints had put fresh life 
 into him ; he determined to follow as far as he 
 could. 
 
 'I'm bone-tired, but I'll see it through if I 
 drop on the track.' 
 
142 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 Only a cat could follow where the otters had 
 climbed ; so he made his way back to the creek 
 and clambered up the high bank to the wind- 
 swept ridge leading to the cliffs. A forlorn 
 figure the old man looked as he fought his way 
 in the teeth of the gale to the brink of the 
 precipice, only to find the trail end on a slab of 
 rock, from which the spray had washed some oi 
 the snow that covered it. 
 
 ' It's all up,' he said, turning his eyes to the 
 great pile of loose rocks farther along the cliff; 
 'they're gone to clitter. Now, old fool, goest 
 home along.' 
 
 After a glance at the sea, on which not a sail 
 or a wing showed, he made his way to the point 
 of the bluff above the mere, and letting himself 
 carefuUy over the edge, succeeded by chnging to 
 rock and tussock in making the descent without 
 mishap. At the foot he stood awhile to rest ; 
 then, presently, set out across the snowfield for 
 the cottage, his thoughts full of the otter, which 
 however he had given up all hope of getting. 
 
 So convinced was he that the creatures were 
 in the cliff that he attached no importance to the 
 trail he stumbled on in the midst of the mere, till 
 he came to the spot where the tracks forked ; but 
 there he awoke to the significance of the situation. 
 
COMES ON THE OTTER 143 
 
 ' Oh, oh,' said he, as he checked his steps, ' so 
 this was where you parted, was it ? — one for the 
 reed-bed, t'other for up along, the withies most 
 Hke.' 
 
 After a pause he added with a chuckle, * Jack 
 oter, you're mine yet.' 
 
 At the thought of the valuable prize falling to 
 him he was aU life and energy again : the vigour of 
 his stride showed it as he stepped along the furrow 
 made by the otter, with eyes fixed on the isolated 
 clump near the inflow through which he expected 
 it would pass. His surprise and excitement may 
 be imagined when on reaching it and ringing it, 
 he found no sign of track on the snow beyond. 
 
 ' Niver can be in this morsel of a patch,' said 
 he under his breath, as he took up a station 
 between it and the reed-bed he felt sure the otter 
 would make for. ' Yet eh must be, eh must be.' 
 Then, raising his voice, he called out, ' King Oter, 
 thy time is come; show thyself and get the 
 business over.' With that he began to beat 
 the reeds with the gun, trampling the stems as 
 he advanced. In the midst of the clump he 
 came on the couch. He stooped quickly and 
 felt that it was warm. 'I knawed thee was 
 theere,' said he ; and crack, crack, crack went the 
 reeds as he levelled them with the ground. 
 
144 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 Less than a dozen yards of cover remained 
 when the old man, in his anxiety to get a glimpse 
 of the otter, knelt down and peeped through the 
 stems. Only the head of the otter showed, but 
 the eyes of man and beast met. Before the 
 marshman could regain his feet, the creature 
 had bolted, making wild leaps in its attempt to 
 escape. Bang ! bang ! first one barrel, then the 
 other; and the old man, who beHeved he had 
 wounded the animal, started in mad pursuit. 
 For a few strides he actually gained on the short- 
 legged creature : but for want of breath he might 
 have overtaken it. As it was, all he could do 
 after covering a score yards was to lament his 
 helplessness, and watch the huge dark form draw 
 farther and farther away. 'What a grand beast I' 
 he gasped again and again ; then suddenly, ' He's 
 down !' he exclaimed, starting to run. But the 
 otter was not down : not apeUet had struck him : 
 he was only lost to sight in a drift. When he 
 reappeared near the bar, the excited marshman 
 saw his error, and once more stood to watch. 
 On reaching the ridge the otter ran along it, 
 showing his magnificent proportions. Once he 
 stopped to look back at his enemy; a few 
 moments later he disappeared from view, and the 
 old man turned on his hed and made for home. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 BACK IN THE OLD HAUNTS 
 
 On passing out of the old man's sight the otter 
 made for the cliffs, where he lay close, impatiently 
 awaiting nightfall that he might return to his 
 mate. The light had scarcely faded when he 
 took to the water. Early though it was to be 
 abroad, he had not got far before he espied her 
 swimming towards him, and presently he saw 
 that she held a cub in her mouth. The reports 
 of the gun had made her apprehensive for the 
 safety of her young, the tiniest of which she was 
 removing first to the clitter. The sea was rough 
 and the spindrift blinding, yet she held on with 
 her precious burden tUl she had reached a cave 
 behind the boulders and laid the dripping mite 
 in a nest there. Then she hurried back for 
 another; when that was placed beside the first 
 she fetched another, and yet another, tUl all four 
 were in safety. 
 
 As soon as she had deposited the last she 
 assisted her mate to scour the sea-bed between 
 the cliffs and the Seal Rock in search of prey to 
 
 145 19 
 
146 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 relieve her maddening hunger. For hours the 
 couple drew likely ground without result ; but 
 when they were about to end their quest they 
 came on a stray pot containing a big crayfish. 
 The find was as welcome as it was unexpected. 
 In their eagerness to get at the prize the starving 
 creatures swarmed about the osier cage like 
 terriers about a rat-trap, vainly striving to find a 
 way between the bars or through the aperture at 
 the top, which was all but closed by the battering 
 the pot had received. It was a most tantahzing 
 situation. The otters' only hope was to stay 
 near the cage untU tide and ground-swell should 
 drive it ashore, dash it to pieces against the cliff, 
 and leave the crayfish at their mercy. So through 
 the long night they never left it except to breathe. . 
 In the end their patience was rewarded. The 
 breakers got hold of the trap, tumbled it over 
 and over, and wedged it between two rocks, 
 smashing one of the bars, and making a hole 
 through which the female otter managed to 
 squeeze. In a twinkling she had seized the fish 
 and crushed its hfe out. As soon as the wave 
 which covered her withdrew, she began devour- 
 ing her prey. Whilst she feasted, the otter made 
 frantic efforts to get in, but failed, and presently 
 desisted, contenting himself with the bits that 
 
THE OTTERS IN DESPAIR 147 
 
 escaped through the bars. The tide rose, yet the 
 little creature, despite the rush of the waters and 
 the blows she received from the stone that 
 weighted the pot, remained where she was until 
 she had consumed all except the feelers and 
 harder parts of the shell ; then, leaving by the 
 way she had entered, she skirted reef and ledge 
 in the dawn-light, and made straight for the 
 clitter. Her one thought was for her famished 
 cubs, which, before the sun was very high, she 
 was suckling from her abundance, purring whilst 
 they fed. 
 
 That day a thaw set in, and a shag appeared 
 on the Seal Rock. The otter, who had shifted 
 his quarters to avoid the drippings from the 
 cliffs, after watching the bird's fishing for a time, 
 began himself to fish. At the end of a long, 
 fruitless quest he landed ; but now, in his ex- 
 tremity, no longer careful for his safety, he lay 
 out in the open on a granite boulder. Happily no 
 harm came of it. Through the night he and his 
 mate hunted in the deep water beyond the rock, 
 stiU without seeing a fin, so that when the sun 
 peeped above the sea the creatures returned to 
 the cliffs in despair. At noon the mother brought 
 her puny little ones from the dank cave and laid 
 them in the sun's rays to enjoy the genial warmth ; 
 
148 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 but as they soon cried to be fed, for fear their 
 plaints might betray them she carried them back 
 to the nest, and there, lulled by the sob of the 
 restless tide, she at length dropped off to sleep. 
 
 She might have slept for two hours when the 
 clamour of sea-fowl awakened her and brought 
 her in haste to the edge of the clitter, where the 
 otter was already on his feet gazing at a flock of 
 gulls, whose excited movements showed they 
 were over fish. Whilst they looked the shoal 
 disapj)eared, and the guUs dispersed — like the 
 wonderful scouts they are — to watch for its return 
 to the surface. The instant the birds congregated 
 over an agitated patch of water between the 
 clitter and the Seal Rock the eager otters slipped 
 into the sea. Soon they were near enough to 
 distinguish the silvery spoil in the beaks of the 
 birds, and two minutes later they were in the 
 middle of the shoal. 
 
 Luckily the fish were sprats, so small that the 
 otters could eat them without landing, and if 
 the shoal had remained long on the surface the 
 animals would have fiUed themselves to repletion ; 
 but before they had gobbled down a tithe of 
 what they needed the fish again sought the 
 depths. The otters pursued as far as breath 
 allowed, raising themselves in the water when 
 
THEY ATTACK THE CONGER 149 
 
 they came up, to look towards the direction the 
 fish had taken. Time after time they stood up 
 to gaze over the heaving surface, but with the 
 gathering of the dusk and the withdrawal of the 
 guUs to the cliffs they ceased, and landed on 
 the Seal Rock. 
 
 As the few sprats had excited rather than 
 allayed their appetite, after a short rest they 
 began to fish again, little dreaming of the struggle 
 in which they were almost at once to be engaged. 
 For they had scarcely reached the bottom when 
 a tiny fiSh darted across an opening between two 
 clumps of weed ; close behind, in pursuit of it, 
 came a big conger. At once they took up the 
 chase of the pursuer where it followed its prey 
 from tangle to rock and from rock to tangle and 
 presently, when a sudden turn brought them 
 within striking distance of the unsuspecting fish, 
 they rose from beneath, careening over so as to 
 fasten on the fleshy throat. Their teeth had 
 scarcely met before the still depths were con- 
 vulsed by the writhings of the fish in its efforts 
 to shake off its assailants, who however hung on 
 till their victim grew quieter. Then, using their 
 tails and hind-feet, they raised their prey through 
 fathom after fathom until, for lack of breath, they 
 had to let go and come to the top. It was a few 
 
150 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 seconds only before they were back again ; but 
 the disabled fish made good use of the interval, 
 and had reached the mouth of the cave when they 
 overhauled it. They began anew to drag it 
 towards the surface. The monster writhed in 
 their grip, trjdng again and again to fold its tail 
 about some projecting rock past which it was 
 being lifted, but it failed to get a hold, and was 
 borne up, and up, and up, until the stars were just 
 visible through the water. Then the otters were 
 again compelled to let go and rise to breathe. 
 At the third attempt they barely held their own 
 against the fish, so violent was its resistance ; at 
 the next, however, after a terrible struggle they 
 succeeded in getting it to the surface, where with 
 glowing eyes th^y lay and rested beside their 
 ghostlike prey before essaying to land it. Soon 
 they began towing it to the cliflfs towards which 
 the tide had drifted them, but before they had 
 got far the conger, singUng out the stronger 
 enemy, strove to coil itself about the otter. Fail- 
 ing to get a grip of the slippery, lissom form, it 
 lashed the sea as if to vent its rage at its own 
 impotence. Then it took to shaking its head and 
 snapping its jaws. The otters however had it 
 helpless, and held grimly on their way till they 
 brought it to the edge of the breakers, where 
 
THE PRIZE BROUGHT ASHORE 151 
 
 from sheer exhaustion they let go, resting awhile 
 to recover a little strength before committing 
 themselves to the welter of the surf. Though 
 the fish too seemed to be at its last gasp, sud- 
 denly, as if roused by the warning voice of the 
 breakers to a final effort, it shook itself free from 
 the otters, who had seized it as it stirred, and, with 
 a great swirl, disappeared beneath the surface. 
 Like a flash the otters were after it, but rose with- 
 out it once and again. The third time the fish 
 was between them. Almost immediately a wave 
 bigger than its fellows curled over them, buried 
 them in its mass of waters, and hurled them on 
 the sand, up which the otters dragged their prize 
 inch by inch till they had brought it to a wide 
 table of rock beyond reach of the surf. Although 
 out of the water, the conger still writhed until 
 the otter bit through its great backbone ; then it 
 lay almost quiet whilst the starving creatures 
 sliced and munched and gulped as if they never 
 would be satisfied. Satiety however came at 
 last, and when they could eat no more they with- 
 drew to the clitter — night though it was — to 
 sleep off" the orgy that marked the close of the 
 days of want. 
 
 With the continuance of mild weather pollack 
 and plaice returned to the inshore waters, so that 
 
152 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 soon, through the plentiful supply of food, the 
 otters regained their good condition, whilst the 
 cubs lost their emaciated appearance and throve 
 apace. From that time the ties that bound the 
 otter to his mate grew looser and looser, and a 
 week after the young had learnt to swim he left 
 her altogether, to resume his solitary life. 
 
 For a while he kept to the headland and the 
 cliffs near the Gull Rock : then, tiring of these 
 haunts, he crossed to the wild coast opposite, 
 where he lingered week after week, until the 
 breath of spring quickened his roving instincts 
 and set him longing for the old trails. So he re- 
 traced his steps from the point of the promontory 
 to which he had penetrated, and on the night of 
 the fuU moon drifted up the estuary to Tide End. 
 There, after fishing, he sought the shelter of a 
 pile of faggots before the, villagers were astir. 
 He slept soundly, despite the near neighbourhood 
 of man, and when dusk feU swam past the 
 lighted cottages towards the wood. Landing 
 there and striking straight through the trees, he 
 held on without a stop tiU .he reached the rude 
 wall at the upper end, on which he stood to listen 
 to the croakings proceeding from the marshy flat 
 beyond. Presently he stole towards the biggest 
 of the pools that silvered the rushy waste ; but 
 
BACK m THE MORASS 153 
 
 when about midway he must have been heard or 
 seen, for the frogs there ceased their chorus, and 
 forthwith the marsh became as silent as when in 
 the grip of the frost. On gaining the water's 
 edge he dived, and in a twinkUng was back with 
 a frog, which he skinned and devoured. This 
 was the first of some half a score that he caught 
 and ate before repairing to a ditch-like piece of 
 water, dark from the shadowing alders, where he 
 long remained feasting. At length he had had 
 enough and, leaving the marsh, made for the 
 river, which he followed mile after mile till he 
 reached the morass and laid up in the hollow 
 bank in which he was born. 
 
 Meanwhile otter-hunting had begun, and all 
 the country-side over men were on the lookout 
 for his tracks. Not since the mysterious dis- 
 appearance of the bob-tailed fox had so keen an 
 interest been taken in any wild creature. Through 
 the winter he had been the topic of conversation 
 in the chimney-corner of cotter and crofter, and 
 a very frequent intruder on the thoughts of the 
 squire. The slightest association was enough to 
 recall the creature to his mind: the sound of 
 running water, the appearance of a salmon- 
 poacher in court, even the sight of the short- 
 legged anima] carved on the screen of the parish 
 
 20 
 
154 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 church — indeed, his preoccupation showed itself 
 in many acts of his daily life. 
 
 Whilst the snow lasted he went every morn- 
 ing to the pond to look for tracks, and as soon 
 as the first daffodils bloomed he began to dip his 
 hand in the streams to try their temperature, 
 longing for the time when the water would be 
 warm enough for the hounds to draw them. In 
 the meantime he busied himself with the various 
 duties of a master of otter hounds. He visited 
 the kennels every day to make sure that the 
 hounds got road exercise to harden their feet. 
 He succeeded after much trouble in inducing the 
 keepers on neighbouring estates to remove the 
 traps which had been the bane of the Hunt. A 
 fortnight before the opening meet he rode round 
 to see the water-bailiff, the miUer, the moorman, 
 old Ikey, and the marshman, asked them to keep 
 a lookout for the otter, and parted firom each of 
 them with the words, 'Now don't forget, my 
 man. Morning, noon, or night, bring me word if 
 you strike his trail.' It is not true, as alleged 
 by the gossips of the port, that he offered a 
 reward of ten pounds for information that should 
 lead to the finding and death of the otter, though 
 had there been an offer of twice that sum the 
 trackers could not have shown greater keenness 
 
ALLOTMENT OF THE WATERS 155 
 
 than they did. There was evidence of it even 
 before the search began, for every man from far 
 and near who meant to take a part turned up at 
 the hour fixed for the allotment of the waters, 
 determined to get his rights. This unusual pro- 
 cedure had been adopted at the instance of the 
 squire, in order to avoid the disputes and bad 
 blood which he foresaw would arise unless the 
 beats were formally assigned before the season 
 opened. 
 
 Haftra, in his ' Annals of our Village,' gives a 
 very fuU account of the meeting. It took place 
 at the Druid's Arms, with Reuben Gribble, the 
 landlord, in the chair. Between him and the 
 red-bearded water-bailiff sat the venerable tenant 
 of the Home Farm, called in ostensibly on account 
 of his wide knowledge of the streams, but reaUy 
 because of his well-known powers of conciliation, 
 which were needed as soon as the business of the 
 evening began. The chief difficulty was with 
 Sandy, the bailiff, who claimed by virtue of his 
 office the whole length of the river, from Tide 
 End to Lone Tarn. Though he was one against 
 a score, counting the men in the doorway, he 
 seemed bent on maintaining the unreasonable 
 position he had taken up. When the miller and 
 the moorman asked him for the reaches which 
 
156 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 they preferred and which every man round the 
 table thought they were entitled to, he brushed 
 their requests aside as if they were nobodies. As 
 Raftra says, a Lord High Ranger couldn't have 
 treated vagrom men with more contempt. This 
 haughty demeanour enraged everyone ; in fact, it 
 was aU Geordie and the wilder spirits could do to 
 keep their clenched fists off the bailiff's person. 
 As it was, angry words passed, but when a fight 
 between the gipsy and the Scot seemed imminent, 
 the old reeve rose, lifted his thin hands to 
 command silence, and said : 
 
 'Don't quarrel, my Mends — don't quarrel; 
 better the otter never came anist us if it's to lead 
 to blows. And yet, as an old tracker, it does my 
 heart good to see how eager every man of 'ee is 
 to get a good beat. For what else does it mean 
 but this, that the love of sport among us is as 
 strong as ever it was ? It makes me long to be 
 one of 'ee, it do ; to be young again, abroad at peep 
 o' day, when the sun is touchin' the cairns and 
 the wakin' world is fresh and sweet, to feel once 
 more the joy of comin' on the wild rover's prents. 
 This minit in my mind's eye I can see the five 
 round toe marks and the seal of the otter I 
 spurred beside the Kieve. You've heard of the 
 sport he gave. An old man's tongue will run 
 
THE REEVE'S APPEAL 157 
 
 away with him — run riot, I ought to call it. Your 
 indulgence, my friends, and your further patience 
 while I touch on the matter that brought me to 
 my feet. And let me say by way of preliminary 
 and to all alike, don't be overreachin' ; don't, 
 simply to keep others out, claim more water than 
 you can search. " Live and let live " is a good 
 motto for a sportsman, be he Englishman or Scot ; 
 and this I'm sure of, that my friend beside me 
 wUl look at things as a big-minded man always 
 do, and prove himself the good neighbour we've 
 taken him for. 
 
 ' Mr. Macpherson, we've treated 'ee like one of 
 ourselves since the coach dropped 'ee at the cross- 
 roads now three year back ; the more so, maybe, 
 since we've got to understand your mouthspeech. 
 True, there was a little soreness because Zachy 
 Kelynack didn't get the job, but only for a month 
 or two ; and we did our best to hide it, agreein' 
 among ourselves that if the Duchy shghted our 
 own man, 'twas no fault of yourn, and no case 
 for pitchin' and featherin', or even for the pump. 
 Come to look back upon it, for a rough-and- 
 ready sort of people, whose parish is their world, 
 we met thee handsomely, though I say it, as I 
 hope we shaU every strainyer who looks us 
 straight in the eyes and does his duty without 
 
158 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 fear or favour. Now, is it askin' 'ee too much to 
 show a friendly spirit in return and a httle con- 
 sideration for local feelin'?' Here the speaker 
 paused ; but, as the bailiff showed no sign of 
 giving in, he went on: ' Come, come, Sandy, only 
 try and see the matter as we do. William Rechard 
 and Matthew Henry were born and reared upon 
 the moor, and have known the river all their 
 lives. Right or no right, do 'ee wonder they 
 think theirselves entitled to a reach or two? No, 
 you cannot, you do not. Be strong, my friend, 
 and give way.' 
 
 Now, it was not so much what the old man 
 said as the way he said it that made the appeal 
 seem irresistible to all but the bailiff. And truly 
 the voice and manner of the speaker, mellow as 
 the rich light that flooded the low-raftered room, 
 would have gone home to men even less emotional 
 than his countrymen ; but the dour Scot seemed 
 to be not the least affected till the landlord, who 
 had hurriedly disappeared through a side-door, 
 returned with a double-handled jug of old cider, 
 and by the influence of the seductive hquid 
 brought him to reason. At the fourth cup he 
 gave in with a good grace, yielding to the miUer 
 the three miles of water above the mUl. At the 
 sixth he granted the reach above Moor Pool to 
 
THE TRACKERS AT WORK 159 
 
 the moorman, who also got the stream near his 
 cot ; old Ikey got the Liddens, as was only fair, 
 since the pools were on his holding ; the marsh- 
 man, the marsh ; and the poachers shared the 
 waters that remained, the order of choice being 
 decided by the length of straw, drawn from 
 the landlord's closed hand. Geordie and Tom, 
 who as leaders of their profession had first and 
 second choice, to their chagrin got the shortest 
 straws. 
 
 Now for rivercraft or marshcraft the fourteen 
 men that daily gave at least an hour or two to the 
 search could not, perhaps, have been matched 
 outside that most ancient terrain of the otter- 
 hunter, the Principality of Wales. Yet though 
 the otter followed the usual trails over the moor, 
 the trackers never once came on a sign of him. 
 The reason is not far to seek. The beds of the 
 river and the streams are for the most part rocky, 
 the shallows and landing-places pebbly, and spits 
 of sand are few and far between. It was on 
 these last that the trackers relied to find the foot- 
 prints, and at dawn they might have been seen 
 bending over them, plying their craft as eagerly 
 as men seeking gold or precious stones. They 
 found nothing, for the otter had never set foot 
 there. Once, indeed, he left his tracks within a 
 
IGO THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 bowshot of Moor Pool — tracks so plain that they 
 seemed to cry out ; but before the bailiff reached 
 the spot the river rose and obliterated them, and 
 the baUifF never knew how near he had been to 
 discovery. 
 
 After the quest had gone on for nearly a 
 month, when men and squire were beginning to 
 fear that the otter had abandoned the district or 
 that his skin was adorning the bedroom floor of 
 some keeper who had trapped him, by the merest 
 chance the moorman happened on the prints near 
 the boundary of his little holding. He was struck 
 all of a heap, as he said, at the unexpected sight ; 
 but on recovering himself he remembered the 
 squire's words and the look in his eyes, so, though 
 the sun was only a few handbreaths above the 
 moor, he left the peat where he had dropped it 
 and set off at a brisk pace for the Big House. In 
 his excitement he forgot the hounds were out 
 until he reached the wood ; but there, to the 
 amazement of the watching woodman, who had 
 wondered at his haste, he suddenly turned, late 
 as it was, and made for the cross-roads, hoping 
 to intercept the squire and save himself a very 
 long journey. 
 
 By good luck the moorman reached the top of 
 the hill just in time to hail the squire as he rode 
 
THE TRACKS EXAMINED 161 
 
 by, and ran down breathless to where he had 
 drawn rein. 
 
 ' Tracked un at laist, squire,' he gasped. 
 
 'Good news, Pearce. IVe had a long day, 
 but I'U go back with you.' 
 
 ' It's a brave way off, sir.' 
 
 ' No matter.' 
 
 So leaving the hounds to the whipper-in, he 
 accompanied the man to the moor, and examined 
 the tracks by the light of the lantern the moor- 
 man had fetched from his cottage. 
 
 ' They're his, right enough, Pearce. Funny 
 place to come on them.' 
 
 ' 'Tes and 'tesn't, come to think of it, for I've 
 spurred otters on this very bit of ground more 
 than once before, and all goin' the same way. 
 'Tes a hiie of traffic from the strame to the 
 revur.' 
 
 ' Ah, that's interesting. But, my word, what 
 amazing prints they are ! What weight do you 
 put him at ?' 
 
 ' Afeerd to say, sir.' 
 
 ' They're a couple of days old, Pearce.' 
 
 'Iss, sir, all that, but you mind what you 
 told me.' 
 
 ' AU right, my man. T attach no blame; that's 
 not my meaning.' 
 
 21 
 
162 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 * He's alive and in the country, sir.* 
 
 ' Yes, yes ; to be sure he's in the country. 
 Great thing to know that. It will hearten every 
 man of us. Great day, red-letter day when we 
 drop on him, eh, Pearce ?' 
 
 Then he rose to his feet, but was almost 
 immediately on his knees again for a last look. 
 At length he tore himself away, slipped a crown- 
 piece into the moorman's hand, remounted, bade 
 the man good-night, and galloped off. 
 
 Now the moorman on his way to stop the 
 squire had overtaken and told the post- woman : 
 the blacksmith at the cross-roads had overheard 
 what he said ; and from these two the news spread 
 so rapidly and so far that before the morrow's 
 sundown it was known through the country-side 
 that the otter had been tracked on Matthew 
 Henry's splosh, that the squire had gone there 
 and seen the prints with his own eyes. To what 
 a pitch of excitement the trackers were aroused 
 by the tidings may be imagined. Most of them 
 were at the stream-side at the first glimmer of 
 day, and aU of them remained out hours longer 
 than usual. The squire, expecting that word of 
 the otter might be brought at any moment, 
 feared to leave the house. He had even given 
 orders that Limpetty, the whipper-in, was to 
 
TRACKERS' REPUTATION LOST 163 
 
 have his meals at the kennels and to sleep in the 
 loft. 
 
 But the otter's plans ran counter to the hopes 
 and expectations of his enemies. On the third 
 day after the discovery of his tracks he forsook 
 the moorland for the creek, where he feasted on 
 mussels and flounders till he tired of them. Then 
 he made down the estuary to the headland ; he 
 robbed the trammels and spillers of the choicest 
 fish, and on one occasion actually took a bass 
 off a whiffing-line. 
 
 Thus another month passed, by the end of 
 which the trackers who had stood so high in the 
 estimation of their neighbours began to be made 
 slight of, and even to be laughed at. Right 
 welcome to them were the heavy rains that 
 rendered river and streams unfit for hunting and 
 furnished a sound excuse for discontinuing the 
 hopeless quest. The flood was indeed a big one, 
 as the mark on the door of the miller's stable 
 testifies. To this day the old men at the port 
 will tell you they never before knew the sea 
 stained to such a distance by the peaty water, 
 adding in the same breath that the run of fish 
 was ' a sight to see.' 
 
 Harbour and estuary seemed alive as the 
 salmon made their way up the river: people 
 
164 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 gathered at diiFerent spots to see them pass. 
 Villagers crowded the bridge at Tide End where 
 the fish take the weir ; Geordie and Tom stood at 
 the fall beneath the pines ; the miUer, at the foot 
 of his garden, watched them go up the new 
 ladder. 
 
 ' Bra run, Reuben,' remarked he to the land- 
 lord at his side. 
 
 ' Iss, fy, and good fish among 'em. That's a 
 heavy fish goin' up now. He'U do it; no, he 
 won't, he an't. That basin is like Malachi's hen, 
 too high in the instep. I said it was when they 
 were puttin' un in.' 
 
 As the miller took no notice, he bellowed in 
 his ear, ' Custna hear what I'm sayin', you V 
 
 ' Hear I Of course I can; I'm not deef. Hear, 
 indeed 1 Thee wust drown the roar of a dozen 
 floods, thee wust ! What have 'ee got to say ?' 
 
 • Why, only this, that he'U be up afore long.' 
 ' What do 'ee mean by he ?' 
 
 • What do I mean ? What can a man mean 
 these days but one thing ? 
 
 ' How teasy you are.' 
 
 • Teasy, indeed I Do 'ee wonder at it ? That 
 varmint has got on my nerves. I'm always 
 thiiikin' about un, I caan't sleep for'n, and if I 
 do, I see un in my dreams. Most like he will 
 
FOLLOWING THE SALMON 165 
 
 come up ; and I hope and trust he will, and that 
 the hounds will find and kiU un, or what 'U become 
 of the parish I don't know. From the squire to 
 Tom Bum-the-Reed we're gettin' in a poor way, 
 and you the one man gettin' any good out of it.' 
 When the flood began to fall the otter did 
 come up, and the first night spent hour after hour, 
 to no purpose, chasing salmon in the pool below 
 the rapids. At dawn he climbed to the ivy- 
 covered branch of a tree overhanging the river, 
 to sleep as well as his uncomfortable quarters 
 allowed. That night he killed in the Kieve; 
 early in the morning the moorman disturbed a 
 pair of buzzards from the remains of his feast, 
 and tried to cross to look for tracks ; but the 
 current was dangerous, and after being nearly 
 washed off his feet he turned back. The river 
 had not yet fallen to hunting level ; but as soon 
 as it had, the bailiff, the miller and all the others 
 were out again, confident that the otter was up 
 and, despite previous failures, hopeful that they 
 would come on his track on one of the many new 
 sand-spits left by the receding waters. 
 
CHAPTER Xll 
 
 THE LONG TRAIL 
 
 It was 'betwixt the lights,' as he would have 
 said, when the miller closed the door quietly 
 behind him and made his way among the nut- 
 bushes to the ford where his search for the otter 
 usually began. No track marked the ground by 
 the water's edge, nor was there a sign on any 
 of the hkely spots all the way to the stranded 
 alder, where he sat to rest awhile before resuming 
 his beat. The pine-tops were then aglow and 
 the birds in foil song, but they meant nothing to 
 him in the mood he was in ; his thoughts, as his 
 words showed, were all for the otter. 
 
 'Not a trace. Pools fuU of fish, too, and 
 everythin' as keenly as can be. Yet I'm sure 
 he's up, and sartin he'U be spurred afore the 
 day's much older. Wonder who'll be the lucky 
 manf 
 
 At the thought of his rivals he sprang to his 
 feet and soon had reached the precipitous bank 
 above the shelving strand where, though so many 
 landing-places were undisturbed, he had every 
 ' 166 
 
THE MILLER IN LUCK 167 
 
 hope of coming on the tracks. Most carefully 
 the eager eyes examined every foot of sand visible 
 between the rowan-trees as, slowly on hands and 
 knees, the miller advanced towards the bend 
 which commands the likeliest spot of all. There 
 twenty feet below he saw a salmon lying and, 
 with the same glance, marked the tracks beside it. 
 The descent of the scarp was nearly as perilous as 
 the crossing of the current, but he accomplished 
 both without mishap, and a few seconds later 
 was crouching beside the footprints. 
 
 ' By the life of me they're his, and not many 
 hours old.' 
 
 His face, no less than his agitated voice, 
 showed the wild excitement that possessed him 
 as he rose and made down the wood as fast as 
 he could lay foot to ground. When he reached 
 the mUl he was almost at his last gasp, but he 
 bridled and mounted the pony, which he urged 
 to a gallop through the open gate and up the 
 stony lane. He was on his way to the squire. 
 
 As he rode through the hamlet, where the 
 clatter of the hoofs brought the villagers to door 
 and window, his cries of 'Tracked unl' roused 
 man and boy to a fever of excitement, and sent 
 the sexton in hot haste to the belfry to apprize 
 the country-side. The miller, however, leaving 
 
168 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 them behind, was soon at the lodge gates. There 
 he nearly frightened old Jenny into hysterics by 
 his shouts; but she took her revenge, for after 
 letting him through she shook the keys in his 
 face and screamed after him, ' Mad as a curley 1 
 mad as a curley 1' untU he rounded the bend 
 where the mansion comes into view. The whole 
 house seemed asleep ; but as the miller crossed 
 the bridge over the moat the squire appeared at 
 a window and, in a voice that betrayed the 
 tension of his feelings, called out : 
 
 ' Where V 
 
 ' Longen Pool, sir.* 
 
 'Fresh?' 
 
 * Last night's.' 
 
 ' Rouse the men, Hicks ; we shall need every 
 hand we can muster.' 
 
 Before he had got through the plantation on 
 his way to the kennels the clang of the fire- 
 alarm broke on the still morning air, and when 
 he returned from Tiis round, squire, whipper-in 
 and hounds were making their way through the 
 park with a small retinue of servants in their 
 train. At the hamlet they were joined by 
 the parson, the parish clerk, the landlord, two 
 sawyers, and six or seven others, and between 
 the pound and the river by a few crofters, whom 
 
THE CHASE 169 
 
 the church bell had summoned from outlying 
 homesteads. 
 
 They crossed the water below the pool, the 
 squire examined the tracks, the hounds were laid 
 on, and the rocky gorge with all the wood about 
 it immediately resounded with their wild music, 
 while the squire and every man behind him 
 thrilled at the prospect of at last coming up with 
 the creature whose movements had so long 
 baffled them. The ground was very rough, and 
 in parts swampy, yet not a man turned back. 
 That active, hard-conditioned followers made 
 light of the obstacles and the pace was, of course, 
 not surprising ; but that the landlord, the clerk, 
 and the chef — short -legged, eleven-score men 
 every one of them — should scramble over rocks 
 and fallen timber, flounder through thickets and 
 boggy places, and still hold on, bedraggled and 
 breathless though they were, testified to the 
 fascination the pursuit of the giant otter had for 
 them. 
 
 Some two miles above Longen Pool the squire 
 caught sight of spraints on a boulder in the 
 middle of the river, and knew at once from their 
 position at its upper end that the otter which 
 had dropped them was travelling down-water. 
 At once he recalled the hounds and began draw- 
 
 22 
 
170 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 ing anew the reaches he had passed. He tried 
 every holt he came to, but without result. 
 
 ' Do you think he's gone down V shouted the 
 squire to the miller across the river. 
 
 'I don't, sir. I didn't find a trace from the 
 ford up, and, as you know, the hoimds didn't 
 give a sign.' 
 
 'Well, there's no holding worth the name 
 between here and Longen. Where can he be ?' 
 
 The puzzling question was answered by the 
 deep note of Dosmary from an overgrown water- 
 course that served to drain the morass. No need 
 was there for the squire to cry out, 'Hark to 
 Dosmary '; for the hounds, on hearing the sum- 
 mons they knew so weU, flew to her where she 
 threaded the reed-bed before taking the steep 
 leading to the moor. "Then up the aU but bare 
 face the twenty couple made their way in a long 
 winding line. Close after the hindmost pressed 
 the squire, the parson and five others, all sound 
 of wind and Hmb, capable of holding on to the 
 end of the promontory, if need be. Not a word 
 passed until the hounds had crossed the stream 
 where it was thought the otter might have laid 
 up, and then only ' Liddens, men,' and ' Ay, sir I' 
 from the moorman in response. Even the sight 
 of the otter's footprints in the next hollow drew 
 
THE DISAPPOINTED MARSHMAN 171 
 
 no remark; though it caused an unconscious 
 quickening of the step up the long, heathery 
 slope, from whose brow the sea showed beyond 
 the hazy outline of the land. Wide on either 
 hand rose grim piles of rock, where down this 
 avenue of cairns the seven, comrades on many a 
 trail, sped in the wake of the pack towards the 
 Liddens, shimmering in the distance. 
 
 But if the seven were elated as never before, 
 there was one on the far side of the moor who 
 was suffering a bitter disappointment. It was 
 the old marshman. He too had discovered the 
 tracks of the otter and, fuU of his tidings, had 
 driven to the mansion as fast as his Neddy could 
 cover the ground, only to learn from the butler 
 that squire and hounds had already been sum- 
 moned and gone off to the river. Staggering 
 though the blow was, he bore up till beyond 
 the gates ; but on the open moor he broke down, 
 said it was a judgment on him for tracking the 
 varmint in the snow, and let the- donkey find the 
 way home as best it could. When they reached 
 the cottage he set the animal loose, tried in 
 vain to shake off his trouble by overhauling the 
 trimmers, and finally sat down on a bench, with 
 his back to the mud wall and his face to the 
 marsh. It was green and gold with the swords 
 
172 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 and banners of the iris ; the air was drowsy with 
 the hum of bees and the sea murmured on the 
 bar ; yet the old man noted nothing of it His 
 thoughts, too, were all of the otter ; he was busy 
 trying to reconcile the seemingly contradictory 
 discovery of the tracks in two places so far apart. 
 ' 'Tes a job to piece 'em together with leagues — 
 iss, leagues — of moor between. Why, look here 
 'Tes all eight miles from the revur to the Liddens, 
 and a good three as the hern flies from the 
 Liddens to the ma'sh ; a long journey, an un- 
 accountable long journey for a crittur that edn 
 framed for traveUin'. On a midsummer night, 
 too, and he more afeard of the ghm o' day than a 
 cheeld of the dark. And then to turn his back 
 on the salmin for the pike, and they poor as can 
 be from spawnin'. Why, the thing edn in reason. 
 But, theere, what's the use of wastin' breeth 
 when he's done it ? For the prents are hisn and 
 none other, and nawthin' could be fresher.' 
 
 The marshman was right : the otter had crossed. 
 At star-peep the creature had slipped from his 
 holt in the side-stream and floated down to Moor 
 Pool, where he killed a grilse, took a slice or two 
 from its shoulder, and left it on the pebbles. 
 Thence, contrary to his habit, he passed down- 
 water, throwing the fish into a panic at every 
 
o 
 
 a. .s 
 
THE OTTER RAIDS THE SALMON 173 
 
 pool. Waves in the shallows showed where the 
 most timid fled at his approach ; some however 
 remained and here and there, as the water 
 favoured his purpose, he gave chase. Twice the 
 formidable marauder landed with victims which 
 he left uneaten on the bank where he laid them, 
 for lust of slaughter, not hunger or love of pursuit, 
 possessed him, and he was moved by a restless- 
 ness greater than -he had ever shown. True, he 
 climbed at times on snag and boulder ; but that 
 was only for an instant before taking again to the 
 water or bank, as fancy led. 
 
 At Longen Pool his coming caused a general 
 exodus, but he singled out one salmon, and by 
 his wily tactics prevented it from feeing with 
 the others to the rapids below. The long chase 
 which followed was for a while in favour of the 
 fish ; yet the otter, who was not to be denied, in 
 the end wearied it out and carried it to the bank, 
 where he bit viciously at the shoulder, as if to 
 wreak his vengeance on the prey that had caused 
 him so much trouble. Presently he re-entered 
 the water, cleansed his blood-stained muzzle, and 
 making upstream turned aside into the wet ditch 
 and traversed the morass. 
 
 On gaining the high ground above it he stood 
 awhile, as if asking himself whether at the late 
 
174 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 hour he might venture across the moor. The 
 instant his mind was made up he set out at a rapid 
 pace, glancing at the keeper's lodge as he went 
 by, and again at the sleeping hamlet before cross- 
 ing the road and entering on the waste, over 
 which he held on his way tiU nearly abreast of 
 the cromlech- There he halted whilst he sounded 
 the call and listened. Twice he uttered the 
 shrill cry, his mask turned in the direction of the 
 lone pool to the north ; but there was no answer 
 in the mocking whistle of the curfew, so he 
 moved on again under the fading stars, and at 
 last came to the Liddens. 
 
 He kept awhile to the open water, cruising 
 restlessly about, as he had done before in the 
 creek and mere, raising himself at times and gazing 
 round, as wild a looking creature as imagination 
 can conjure up. Thence he passed into the thick 
 fringe of reeds, and remained hidden so long that 
 it might be thought that he had laid up there. 
 Later however he appeared on the far bank of 
 the westernmost pool, and though the pale prim- 
 rose streak in the east warned him of coming 
 day, the outlawed animal, alarmed by the taint 
 of human footprints he had happened on, at 
 once forsook tl^e refuge and set his face for the 
 marsh 
 
THE OUTLAW'S FEAR OF DAY 175 
 
 His hurried movements showed that he had 
 full knowledge of the risk he ran in the open, 
 where he looked a monster as he crossed the 
 patches of sward amongst the bilberry. Indeed, 
 so fast did he cover the ground that no sprinter 
 could have kept up with him, especially when he 
 breasted the long, boulder-strewn ascent to the 
 Kites' Cairn. There old Ikey must have viewed 
 him had he been on his way to the pools at his 
 usual hour ; but he was late, and soon the otter 
 was amongst the crags. His feet were here 
 delayed momentarily by the rising sun, whose 
 light he dreaded as much as did the witches of 
 Crowz-an- Wra. But there was no staying where 
 he was : he must press on to marsh or sea, now 
 both in his view ; and at panic speed he made his 
 way down the bare slope and up the opposite 
 rise to the great furze brake that runs down 
 almost to the margin of the mere. Leisurely he 
 threaded his way through the close cover to a 
 point where he stood and listened to the crowing 
 of a cock before slipping into the water and 
 crossing to the old hover on the edge of the reed- 
 bed. He made his careful toilet as usual, and 
 before the marshman discovered his tracks he 
 had curled up and fallen asleep. 
 
 But whilst the otter slept in untroubled 
 
176 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 security, heedless of his enemies, they had passed 
 the Liddens and come within earshot of the old 
 man, who had scarcely finished his soliloquy 
 when he started to his feet with the exclamation, 
 ' What's that V and stood Ustening as intently as 
 the otter a little earher had hstened for a reply to 
 his call. This time, however, the reply came. 
 ' Surely theere 'tes again,' and a few seconds later, 
 as the cry rose afresh, he shouted ' 'Tes they ' so 
 loudly that he attracted the child who joined 
 him on the furze-rick he had hurriedly climbed. 
 
 • Do 'ee hear them, Mary ? 'Tes the hounds. 
 Hark ! cheeld.' 
 
 I hear something, granfer. 
 
 ' Wheere do 'ee make the cry to come from ?' 
 and for answer she pointed with her free hand to 
 the Kites' Cairn. 'Now keep an eye on the 
 rocks, and teU me if you see anythin'.' 
 
 'There's something streaming through the 
 Fairies' Gap this minit. . . . Now it's like a 
 shadow, a moving shadow on the down. . . . 
 They're dogs. My word, such a passel of them, 
 all in a bunch !' 
 
 Then they passed from sight and the weird cry 
 almost died away; but presently the chorus 
 swelled, and swelled, and swelled, and then the 
 old man saw the hounds, like maddened things. 
 
THE MARSHMAN UNNERVED 177 
 
 come pouring over the brow and enter the brake 
 fall in his view. 
 
 ' You're tremblin', granfer.' 
 
 'Iss, cheeld, all of a quake, like the yal|ow 
 farze where the hounds are forcin' a way. The 
 moosic is 'most too much for me.' 
 
 • Mary,' said he, and the child raised her won- 
 dering eyes to the excited face, ' 'tes the line of 
 the King Oter they're spakin' to, and — who can 
 tell ? — maybe the sun will shut down on a great 
 day. But, lor me I what am I doin' here on this 
 rick, with hounds about to take the water ? My 
 place is in the Mary Jane." With that he 
 scrambled down the rude ladder and bustled 
 towards the spot where he had left the boat in 
 the early morning. 
 
 As soon as he stepped in, the pack, which had 
 been almost mute since entering the mere, broke 
 out into a babel of music, proclaiming a find. 
 The uproar so unnerved him that he was long in 
 getting the oars between the thole-pins; but 
 when he did, he pulled with might and main tiU, 
 drawing near the hounds, he stopped rowing and 
 kept a sharp lookout for the quarry repeating 
 as he scanned the water : • Ef 'tes only he, only 
 he.' But not a sign of otter, big or small, met 
 his eyes, either in the mere or in the creek, to 
 j 23 
 
178 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 which the chase presently shifted. There the fear 
 that the game would land and reach the clift 
 suddenly possessed him. So all at once he urged 
 the boat past hounds and island to the reedy 
 comer, where he jumped to his feet and kept 
 splashing the water to drive the otter back. The 
 nearer the hounds approached the more frantically 
 he wielded the oar, nor did he desist till they 
 showed by their movements that the otter had 
 left the end of the creek and was returning to 
 the mere. 
 
 Whilst he watched them the squire and his 
 followers came over the brow, and all made for 
 the beach except the squire, who came tearing 
 down the hill towards the boat. 
 
 ' To the hounds, John I' he gasped as he stepped 
 into the crazy craft. At the word the old man 
 pushed off and bent to his work with wondrous 
 vigour. 
 
 ' Have you viewed the otter V 
 
 ' No, sir, I haven't, but I spurred un.' 
 
 ' You spurred him ? When V 
 
 ' Soon aifter break o' day.' 
 
 'You did?' 
 
 ' Iss, sir, sure as you're standin' on they starn 
 sheets.' 
 
 ' What I the big otter V 
 
THE TELL-TALE BUBBLES 179 
 
 ' Iss, sir. The King Oter, I call him.' 
 
 ' Then why didn't you bring word ?' 
 
 ' I did, sir, fast as I could, but you'd gone off 
 to the revur. 'Twas Mr. Pugmore as told me.' 
 
 'I see, I seel Pull with your right, or we 
 shaU be into the island. That wiU do ; now both 
 together.' 
 
 ' Wind him, my lads 1 middy ho, wind him I 
 Padzepaw, Troubadour, Rowtor, wind himl 
 Wind him, my lads !' 
 
 The cheery cry seemed to put fresh Ufe into 
 the hounds as they worked the reeds, from which 
 they presently drove the quarry to the mere. 
 
 The squire's keen eyes searched the glittering 
 surface to get a glimpse of him, but in vain ; the 
 hounds might have been giving tongue to some 
 phantom quarry for all that he or the old man 
 saw. And so the chase continued for an hour, 
 and another and another, whilst the otter led the 
 pack from reed-bed to reed-bed, where he rose 
 and vented without exposing himself. 
 
 At last the marshman, who at the moment 
 was resting on the oars, pointed to the surface 
 beneath the right blade. 
 
 'The chain, the chain 1' whispered the squire 
 excitedly on sighting the string of bubbles, and 
 ' There he vents 1' as the nose of the quarry showed 
 
180 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 between two lily-leaves a few yards off. The 
 otter remained where he was until the hounds 
 were almost upon him; then he sank as noiselessly 
 as he had risen, and made for another refuge. 
 ' You viewed him, sir ?' 
 • I viewed an otter, John.' 
 ' Then why didn't 'ee tally him, sir V 
 'Because I'm not sure it's him. 1 don't want 
 to raise false hopes in all these people.' 
 
 For by this time many had arrived, some by 
 boat, others in vehicles, some on horses or 
 donkeys, and had taken up stations round the 
 mere. There were at least a score on the point, 
 as many near the inflow : there was a taU thin 
 man who had somehow found his way to the 
 edge of the reed-bed, and quite a little crowd on 
 the bar. 
 
 ' Never see'd such a passel o' people here since 
 the wreck of the Triton, and that was afore your 
 time, sir. The casks of rum were aU over the 
 beach, and men, too ; and as for the cocoanuts, 
 they were . . .' The outstretched hand of the 
 squire silenced him, for the otter had risen within 
 a few yards of the boat, and lay there showing 
 its great length. Both were tongue-tied by the 
 sight, but no sooner did the otter dive than the 
 squire gave utterance to a ' Tally-ho 1' the like of 
 
THE OTTER SORE PRESSED 181 
 
 which had never passed his lips before. It made 
 the marshman jump : it sent a thrill through the 
 cordon of spectators : it made the child hurry 
 again to the furze-rick. 
 
 ' Did you see him ?' asked the squire excitedly. 
 
 • I did, and I don't wonder it fetched such a 
 screech out of 'ee. Lor, maister, 'twere enow to 
 wake the dead.' 
 
 Two minutes later the otter was * gazed ' by the 
 men on the point. Soon after a shout came from 
 Geordie at the end of the creek, — so soon that 
 the squire feared there must be two otters afloat. 
 But he was wrong : there was only one. Next 
 the people on the bar saw him rise, with the 
 hounds close behind driving him towards the 
 reed-bed, where he landed within a dozen yards 
 of the solitary figure there. To him it looked as 
 if the otter must be overhauled, and eagerly he 
 watched the swaying of the reeds as otter and 
 hounds traversed the bed. Soon, in view of the 
 excited crowd near the inflow, the hunted beast 
 managed to slip into the mere as a hound was 
 about to seize him. Four times he rose in cross- 
 ing to the farther shore, where he threaded the 
 sags and, in his desperation, sought the refuge of 
 the furze-brake. The cover was all in his favour ; 
 for he could run where the hounds, and even the 
 
182 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 terriers, had to force a way. Yet to him as to 
 them the atmosphere was suffocating, so that he 
 was glad to reach the upper edge and get a few 
 breaths of fresh air before the clamour of the 
 hounds and the crackling of the stems warned 
 him it was time to move. Then he made his 
 way down to the creek to quench his thirst. The 
 parson, by this time perched on the wiUow, saw 
 him lapping, but forbore to shout, and presently 
 the dark mask was withdrawn. Soon the hoxmds 
 reached the spot. Thirsty though they were, 
 they thirsted still more for the otter's blood. 
 Not one stayed to lap but, like infuriated crea- 
 tures, went on after the quarry whose distress 
 they must have been conscious of. 
 
 Before this the crowd from the bar had moved 
 to the bluff above the creek, whence they could 
 trace the windings of the otter by the movements 
 of the hounds. Breathless was their excitement 
 when they saw from the wild shaking of the 
 bushes that the otter had been seized, and great 
 their disappointment when the resumption of 
 the chase showed that, after aU, he had got 
 away. 
 
 Twice more the gallant beast made the wide 
 circuit of those ten acres of fiirze in the hope of 
 shaking off his pursuers before he made his way 
 
FAILS TO REACH THE OTTER 183 
 
 in despair down to the sags and slipped unseen 
 into the mere. He rose after but a short dive, 
 and swam with the pack in his wake straight for 
 the bar. Not one of those who watched dreamt 
 he would dare to land ; but he did, a good score 
 yards in front of the leading hounds. Then all 
 could see his distress as he laboured over the 
 pebbly ridge he knew so well. It looked as if he 
 must be overtaken before he reached the tide; 
 but the hounds were nearly as exhausted as he, 
 and though they gained on him, it was not until 
 they came to the calm water beyond the breaking 
 wave that they managed to hold him and worry 
 his life out. 
 
 Then the squire waded into the sea almost to 
 his armpits, took him from the hounds, and hold- 
 ing the heavy carcass above his head, brought it 
 ashore. The 'field' closed round him iii their 
 eagerness to see and touch the beast and examine 
 the huge pads. 
 
 ' A little elbow-room, gentlemen, if you please. 
 I can't possibly weigh the animal whilst you 
 press me like this.' 
 
 His words had instant effect. The moment 
 the crowd fell back he suspended the otter from 
 the hook of the spring-balance he carried, and 
 watched the index. 
 
184 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 'What does he scale, sir?' shouted a score 
 excited voices. 
 
 ' Twenty-nine pounds good.' 
 
 Then followed a tumult of conversation, amidst 
 which could be distinguished : 
 
 'Now, Thomas 'Enery, what did I say all 
 along V 
 
 ' He's a pound over and above your guess.' 
 
 • Sandy was right.' 
 
 'You said forty pound, Geordie, you know 
 you did.' 
 
 ' You'm a liard ; 1 
 
 ' Silence, mates !' roared the landlord, stepping 
 into the ring ; ' the squire wants to spake. Silence, 
 I say 1' 
 
 When the noisy groups of disputants at last 
 quieted down, the squire, hoarse from his efforts, 
 said : ' It is my custom, as you know, to distribute 
 the pads, mask and rudder, and fling the carcass to 
 the hounds. To-day, however, I mean to depart 
 from the rule. I wiU teU you why, and I hope 
 every one of you wiU agree that I am right. My 
 view is that this fine beast ' — and here he lifted 
 the otter clear of the sand as if to emphasize his 
 words — ' which has excited so much interest and 
 afforded a hunt we can never expect to see the 
 like of, ought not to be broken up, but should be 
 
NO INSCRIPTION ON THE CASE 185 
 
 preserved for ourselves and others to look at in 
 the years to come. Now, if any man has got 
 anything to say, let him speak out.' 
 
 • Say, sir,' replied the parish clerk, after casting 
 his quick eyes round the circle of approving faces, 
 ' why, that we're one and all of the same way of 
 thinkin' as yoursel' ! What's a pad here or a pad 
 there ? To say nawthin' as to who's to have 'em. 
 By aU manner o' means let the otter be set up, 
 and let un be given pride of place again' the 
 wainscot ; for if ever wild crittur deserved the 
 honour, this one do, if only for the good he's done 
 the landlord.' 
 
 So the otter was set up in the hall in a hand- 
 some case, with a picture of the marsh for back- 
 ground. Of the many trophies that adorn the 
 walls there is not one the squire was so proud of, 
 none whose story he liked so well to relate. It 
 alone bears no inscription ; for, as he always said, 
 ' There is no need ; my people will never let the 
 record die !' His words have proved true. 
 
 Though the wild promontory is steeped in 
 legend and romance, though tales of giants, fairies, 
 smugglers and shipwrecked sailors, abound, there 
 is no story the crofters so often repeat by the 
 firelight as the story of the otter, none the 
 children listen to with closer attention. Mary's 
 
 24 
 
186 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 
 
 three boys never wearied of hearing their mother 
 tell how she stood on the rick and watched the 
 hounds stream through the Fairies' Gap ; they 
 always insisted on her giving the squire's ' Tally- 
 ho !' and hung on every word when she came to 
 the message brought by the steward, that old 
 John and his grandchild were to have their little 
 place rent free for the rest of their days. 
 
 * Again, again 1' they would cry, clapping their 
 little hands ; and generally Mary yielded to their 
 entreaties. And when the time comes they will 
 repeat the tale to their own children, as indeed 
 do the miller's and the moorman's sons and 
 daughters to-day. Thus the tradition of the otter 
 bids fair to be handed on by generation after 
 generation for long years to come, and to win 
 an imperishable place amongst the hearthside 
 stories of the West. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Allotment of waters, 166 
 
 Badger, 16, 65, 74, 83 
 Bass, 36 
 Bittern, 140 
 Blunderbuss, 132 
 Boat, 67, 134, 178 
 Breathing-holes, 121 
 'Burning the reed,' 106 
 Buzzard, 4, 88, 91, 165 
 
 Cave, 37, 69, 117 
 Glitter, 71, 142, 145 
 Conger, 110, 149 
 Constable, 45 
 Cormorant, 66, 89 
 Couch, 23, 116 
 Creek, 36 
 Cubs taught to swim, 11 
 
 „ „ fish, 21 
 Curlew, 92, 174 
 
 Deadman's Pool, 42 
 Decoy, old, 72 
 Dragon-flies, 41 
 Druid's Arms, 74, 156 
 Duchy, the, 167 
 
 Eels, 23, 122 
 Estuary, 40, 152 
 
 Fairies' Gap, 176 
 Fight with terrier, 31 
 „ rival, 116 
 Flintlock, 132 
 
 Fox, 16, 28, 47, 124 
 Frogging, 19, 163 
 
 Geese, 123 
 Gipsies, 61 
 Glow-worms, 60 
 Goldcrest, 18 
 Gull Rock, 68, 152 
 Gulls, 69, 148 
 
 Harhourer, 91 
 Haunted House, 62 
 Headland, 108, 162 
 Heron, 36, 40 
 Hounds, 77, 95, 169 
 
 Keeper, 9, 60, 74 
 Kennels, 65 
 Kestrel, 23 
 
 Kieve Pool, 86, 156, 165 
 Killick, 68 
 
 Landlord, 165, 164, 184 
 Liddens, the, 73, 126, 170 
 Limpets, 127 
 Lone Tarn, 26, 84 
 Longen Pool, 78, 168 
 
 Magpie, 33 
 
 Marsh, the, 60, 104, 118, 174 
 
 Marshman, 67, 123, 130, 159 
 
 Miller, 79, 102, 164, 167 
 
 M.O.H., duties of, 154 
 
 Moorhen, 48 
 
 Moorman, 25, 169, 170 
 
 187 
 
188 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Moor Pool, 86, 94, 106, 172 
 Mullet, 63 
 MusBek, 39 
 
 Nightjar, 51 
 
 Otter, the King, 179 
 
 Peel, 61, 85 
 Pillar Rock, 118 
 Pike, 69, 87, 122 
 Piskies' parlour, 141 
 Plaice, 43 
 Poacher, 106, 169 
 Polecat, 130 
 Pollack, 112 
 Pollard, 137 
 Porpoise, 67 
 
 Quagmire, 1, 107, 116 
 
 Rabbit- hurrow, 27 
 Rabbiting, 47 
 Raftra, 166 
 Raven, 18, 33 
 Reed-bed, 26, 66, 71 
 Reeve, 166 
 
 Salmon, 56, 75, 173 
 Sanctuary, 63 
 
 Sea, 68, 142 
 
 Seal, 66, 117 
 
 Seal Rock, 110, 147 
 
 Shag, 118 
 
 Shanks' fin, 108 
 
 Sheep dog, 46 
 
 Snowdrift, 136 
 
 Spring, 18 
 
 Squire, 64, 98, 105, 161, 168 
 
 Stag, 83 
 
 Terrier, 30, 17, 78 
 Tide End, 162, 166, 164 
 Trackers, 154, 162 
 Trail, an old, 36 
 
 „ the long, 171 
 Trammels, 168 . 
 Traps, 61, 105 ' 
 Trekking, 22, 29, 73 
 Trimmers, 123 
 Trout, 22 
 
 Water-bailiff, 106, 167 
 Watermint, 72 
 Weasel, 34 
 Wild swans, 123 
 WiU-o'-the-wisp, 73 
 Woodman, 29, 100, 160 
 Wrasse, 69, 112 
 
 THE END 
 
 BILLING AND BOJiTS, LTD., PKINTKKa, OUILDVOBD, KMQLAUD.