CUBS BASKING 3 



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 them, 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 



1—2 



