KERSE AND THE OTTER 191 



carent quia vote sacro : neither could the old river 

 god Rob himself contend with the otter so valiantly 

 as Charlie Purdie. Whether it was that he had a 

 sort of fellow-feeling for an animal that was amphi- 

 bious like himself, and followed the same profession, 

 or from what other cause I cannot say, but Rob 

 did not particularly shine in a fair stand-up otter 

 fight, as you shall hear. 



In the latter end of September, 1839, Kerse had 

 set a cairn net at the Clippers, a little below 

 Makerstoun House, but on the bank of the river 

 opposite to it ; and on going to the cairn to 

 examine the net, he saw a young otter sitting on, 

 and entangled in it ; he threw more of the net 

 over it, whilst drawing it to the land, and when he 

 had caught hold of the tail, and was carrying it off, 

 a large otter, which he described "as a she ane," 

 five feet in length, jumped out of the water, ran up 

 the bank after him, to use his own words, " like a 

 mad bear," and commenced a furious attack upon 

 him. Rob had nothing to defend himself with 

 but his hat ; and as he was holding the young one 

 with one hand, he found he was likely to have 

 the worst of it, and to be bitten by the one animal 

 or the other. So he threw the whelp to the old 

 one, saying, "Ay, ye she-devil, he may get her, 

 twae to ane is odds." They both swam away ; that 

 is, the two otters, not Kerse. 



On looking after them he saw two other young 

 ones trying to make past the point of the cairn, 

 which, owing to the strength of the current, they 

 seemed unable to effect : Kerse thought he would 

 try the thing again, so he laid hold of one of them, 



