CHAPTER V 



THE OTTER 



The largest and fiercest wild animal of the Broadland is 

 the otter, an old dog measuring four feet, and weighing from 

 twenty-eight to thirty-four pounds, and to this weight are 

 added the jaw and courage of a bull-dog and the teeth of a tiger. 



His habits are simple. He builds himself a nest about 

 the size of a swan's nest (occasionally in an old swan's nest), 

 in a hollowed-out hole, in thickets of sallow and bramble, in 

 thorn-bushes or old furra (furze) bushes near a dike, in 

 thick rushes ; but floating reed-hovers near pulk-holes are 

 his favourite nesting-places, for there is a handy trap-door 

 into the water beneath, a ready means of escape — for on hear- 

 ing the slightest sound (and nothing is quicker of hearing than 

 an otter), he dives down, swimming off under the hovers in 

 safety. Sometimes you may find a hole in the bottom of 

 his nest through which he comes and goes. The nest is 

 open, no roof being built over it, though he often pulls the 

 reeds and stuff over in a careless manner. The nest is 

 lined with litter and reed-leaves, and is warm and cosy, 

 as any one can attest who has placed his hand in one on 

 a cold winter's day just as the otter has left, for they lie 

 in or by their nests, or on the hovers all day, often sleep- 

 ing; but, as a rule, they are light sleepers, though I know 

 one fenman who caught one asleep, and had time to go and 

 get his quant, and return and "leave his mark on him;" but 

 the otter finally escaped. 



Opinion seems divided amongst the Broadsmen as to the 

 date of younging. One expert assures me they young in 



