HE LONGS FOR DUSK 85 



into the water and stealing away; but it was 

 well he refrained, for presently the stag broke its 

 bay and made off down the river, drawing the 

 pack after it. 



Then, though calm returned to the pool from 

 which it had been so ruthlessly banished, it 

 brought no peace to the otter. A peel leaped 

 where the stag had stood, trout rose where the 

 hounds had clustered, pigeons ' roohooed ' over- 

 head, and a squirrel came down and drank at the 

 water, yet the otter was still perturbed. His 

 faith in the holt was gone, and he longed for 

 dusk that he might leave it and get away from 

 the taint of hound that drowned the scent of 

 moss and fern and poisoned the sweet, fresh 

 breath of the river. He did not await the fall of 

 night, for a faint glow yet lighted the spaces 

 between the boles when he left, and as he came 

 out upon the moor, the sky was still red with 

 the embers of sunset. Far ahead loomed the 

 familiar outline of the solitary hill, as yet un- 

 visited ; and now at last he determined to follow 

 the stream that veined it to the summit, and 

 there find the refuge that the specious ravine 

 denied. 



At a good pace he moved over the heather 

 and bog till, a furlong or so beyond some stacks 



