THE REV. JOHN RUSSELL. ^-^ 



holding them on a stream. Wander away they 

 would, into every brake and cover on his line 

 of march ; and if perchance a fox or a hare 

 could be raked up, from that moment farewell 

 to the rioters and the chance of aquatic sport 

 for the rest of the dav. 



" I walked three thousand miles," said Rus- 

 sell (the country-people must have taken him 

 for Van Wodenblock), "without hnding an 

 otter ; and although I must have passed over 

 scores, I might as well have searched for a 

 moose-deer." 



In failing, however, to make the acquaint- 

 ance of that animal, his long tramps in quest of 

 him did not, in one respect, prove altogether 

 profitless ; for then it was he acquired that rare 

 knowledge of his countrv which ever since has 

 remained, like an Ordnance map, imprinted on 

 his memory. In after years, on many a starless 

 night, with many a long mile between him and 

 his kennels, through ravines dark as Erebus, 

 through fords flooded by storms, over the path- 

 less moor, by bog, fell, and precipice, that 

 knowledge did him good service, bringing him 

 always, like the instinct of the carrier pigeon, 

 safely to his home. 



In clinging to the course of the rivers — a 

 point of the first necessity in drawing for an 

 otter — the scenery that met Russell's eye on 

 every side must have mitigated, to some little 



