112 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 



object of enticing it into the open ; but the wily 

 conger never budged. 



Then the otter examined the wall of the cave 

 in the hope of getting at the fish from behind, 

 where the powerful tail gripped the rock. There 

 was no way in, however, and again the baulked 

 marauder had to ascend to take breath. Three 

 times more he made his way down to the mouth 

 of the den, dodging to and fro within a foot of 

 the dull green motionless eyes ; but in the end 

 he gave up hope and left. 



As he rose to the surface the last time he 

 seized a pollack with such eagerness that his 

 teeth met through it, and this he took to the 

 rock and devoured. Then, swimming towards 

 the shore, he fished along the cliffs, catching 

 wrasse which he left uneaten on the weed-covered 

 ledges where he landed, till at length, tired of 

 wanton destruction, he entered the clitter, and 

 after a long interval came out on the topmost 

 boulder, gained the crest of the cliff, and so 

 crossed to the creek. There he cruised restlessly 

 from bank to bank, raising himself at times half 

 out of the water and looking round as if in search 

 of something. Presently he took to the furze 

 brake that mantles the slope and, traversing the 

 bare patch, passed up the misty valley, only to 



