THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 89 



he sent flying over the stones. The rattle it 

 made caused him to run after it, and the grim 

 toy served to amuse him, for he played with it 

 much as a kitten plays with a ball. 



Not so had its owner been bandied about by 

 his forbears. More than one otter, appalled by 

 his great bulk and terrible jaws, had shrunk 

 from tackling him : even the father of the cub 

 was glad, after a tussle that convulsed the 

 little bay, to reach the rocks and escape with 

 his life. But famine had effected what no enemy 

 could effect — a famine caused by the ravages of 

 otter, of heron, of cormorant, of the pike them- 

 selves, reducing the fish one by one till only the 

 monster of the reedy bay remained. Whilst 

 strength lasted he made a daily circuit of his 

 wasted realm for prey to satisfy his maddening 

 hunger. As his weakness increased, his beat 

 dwindled, until one day, after but a short cruise, 

 it was all he could do to regain his station among 

 the reeds. There he lingered till death claimed 

 him. His gaunt carcass, still beautiful with its 

 marblings of olive and gold, rose to the surface, 

 and the west wind wafted it to the strand, where 

 the terror of one generation became the sport of 

 the next. 



The otter, however, soon tired of toying 



12 



