6 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 



They resembled kittens more than any other 

 young creatures, the difference lying in their 

 tiny ears and shy, wild eyes. But, suggestive of 

 fear as was their look, they were not as yet con- 

 scious of the danger besetting them, even when 

 able to scramble up the bank and sprawl about 

 the bog. Thither the otter led them in all 

 weathers, and it was for this duty that she 

 hurried back to them the instant she had done 

 foraging. Now and again the scarcity of prey 

 or the difficulty of securing it would detain her 

 far into the night and sorely tax the patience of 

 the cubs, eager for her return. In the intervals 

 of listening they would pace round the now 

 dishevelled nest, increasing their speed as the 

 hours passed without sign of her. At length 

 the shrill whistle, heard even above the storm 

 or downpour, would reach them, and set them 

 dancing with delight. Two furry heads and little 

 red tongues greeted the panting mother as soon 

 as her feet rested on the ledge, and the next 

 instant the capering creatures followed her as 

 she led to the gambolling-ground beyond the 

 great reed-bed. There they frolicked to their 

 heart's content through the hours of darkness, 

 and even after sun-up when thick fog shrouded 

 the morass. On reaching the nest the otter 



