136 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 



that met his gaze no living thing stirred : only 

 the big and the little trails, as plain as under the 

 wall of the duck-house, wound in and out 

 amongst the stems, trending in the direction of 

 the mere. ' No hurry, my beauties ; I shall come 

 up wi' 'ee by-and-by ;' and snap, snap, went the 

 brittle reeds as he made his slow way through 

 them. He kept looking eagerly ahead as though 

 he expected to catch sight of the game retreat- 

 ing before his noisy advance, but nothing caught 

 his eye save the wing of a moorhen on which 

 some fortunate forager had broken his fast. 



Yet though he saw nothing of the otters them- 

 selves, he came on evidence in the snow which 

 told him they had not spent the night wholly in 

 wandering. Between the reeds and the creek 

 were the beaten places where they had rolled, 

 and a gunshot farther, the slope down which 

 they had slid. On sighting the slide he stopped, 

 astonished that famine-stricken creatures, as he 

 knew they must be, could waste a moment in 

 gambols. ■ Most playsomest critturs on. God's 

 eerth,' said he ; but at once resumed his mur- 

 derous errand, now with grave misgivings lest he 

 should presently discover that the otters had kept 

 straight on to the bar and cliffs, and got beyond 

 his reach. He was greatly elated, therefore, on 



