130 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 



of entrance ; and frantic were the efforts they 

 made to obtain a hold on the top of the door. 

 More than once the otter all but succeeded ; had 

 his claws been long and sharp instead of short 

 and blunted, he would have got a footing and 

 probably an entry. But the door rattled and 

 creaked with their futile attempts, and the noise, 

 with the quacking of the terror-stricken ducks, 

 reached the ears of the marshman as he lay listen- 

 ing to the gale. Old and stiff though he was, it 

 was the work of a moment to jump out of bed, 

 open the lattice, and shout at the top of his voice. 

 At the sound the guilty creatures stole away in 

 the direction of the big osier-bed ; yet their lot 

 was so desperate that when they neared the furze- 

 rick the little mother stopped and looked back. 

 Despite her dread of the marshman, she would 

 have returned to the duck-house had her mate 

 been willing; but whilst she stood he kept on, 

 and presently she followed and overtook him. 

 It was with weary steps they plodded forward, 

 hopeless as two otters can be. Whither could 

 they turn ? Not to the hills, whence even a pole- 

 cat had come to the marsh to forage ; not to the 

 cliffs nor inshore waters ; they knew them only 

 too well. And so with no goal to make for, the 

 luckless creatures passed into the night. 



