NEKIK THE OTTER 



heads a mother otter teaching her habies to dive and 

 swim and duck from the river surface to the burrows 

 below the water along the river bank. Perhaps the 

 trapper has found a dead fish along this very bank with 

 only the choice portions of the body eaten a sure sign 

 that nekik the otter, the little epicure of the water 

 world, has been fishing at this river. &amp;gt; 



With a scarcely perceptible motion, the man turns 

 his head to watch the swimmers. Instantly, down they 

 plunge, mother and babies, to come to the surface 

 again higher up-stream, evidently working up-current 

 like the beaver in spring for a glorious frolic in the 

 cold clear waters of the upper sources. At one place 

 on the sandy beach they all wade ashore. The man 

 utters a slight &quot;Hiss!&quot; Away they scamper, the 

 foolish youngsters,, landward instead of to the safe 

 water as the hesitating mother would have them do, 

 all the little feet scrambling over the sand with the 

 funny short steps of a Chinese lady in tight boots. 

 Maternal care proves stronger than fear. The fright 

 ened mother follows the young otter and will no doubt 

 read them a sound lecture on land dangers when she 

 has rounded them back to the safe water higher up 

 stream. 



Of all wild creatures, none is so crafty in conceal 

 ing its lairs as the otter. Where did this family come 

 from? They had not been swimming up-stream; for 

 the man had been watching on the river bank long be 

 fore they appeared on the surface. Stripping, the 

 trapper dives in mid-stream, then half wades, half 

 swims along the steepest bank, running his arm against 

 the clay cliff to find a burrow. On land he could not do 

 this at the lair of the otter; for the smell of the 



