34 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 



three were long in falling asleep. The otter, 

 indeed, was still awake at noon, when a weasel 

 threaded the way to the heart of the cairn, and, 

 poking his snake-like head round the angle of 

 rock, saw the curled-up forms of the animals 

 whose scent had drawn him thither. But a single 

 peep satisfied his curiosity, and he went out into 

 the blazing sunlight, fragrant with the perfume 

 of the furze. Then the mother otter slept like 

 the cubs. 



The ravine was weird with the shades of 

 night, raven and magpie were asleep, when the 

 nomads left the cairn and took to the trail. 

 Like three shadows they stole over the crest 

 above and entered the covert. In the silence of 

 that still, sultry night they might have been 

 heard forcing a way where the furze was densest, 

 and presently they emerged from the lower edge, 

 and, traversing a strip of open ground where a 

 rabbit was feeding, came to a stream. This they 

 crossed by springing from rock to rock, the otter 

 first and the male cub last. In the same order 

 they threaded the oak coppice that clad the 

 opposite steep, and made their way over the 

 craggy summit that crowned it. And so they 

 passed stream after stream, surmounted ridge 

 after ridge of the wild watershed, and gained 



