140 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 



trample upon the matted sprays in order to 

 drive the otters from their last possible retreat. 



He had taken some half a dozen steps when a 

 patch of snow falling from the brambles well in 

 front informed him that something was afoot. 

 On the instant he stopped to listen, whilst his 

 restless eyes sought the likely points of escape, 

 and the gun shook in his nervous hands. As 

 the otters did not show, he felt sure they were 

 stealing away before him, and carefully watched 

 some reeds into which they must pass on leaving 

 the thicket. Seeing a slight agitation in the 

 stems, he tore like a madman through the rest of 

 the scrub, and stood at the edge ready to shoot. 

 But, too excited to await the otters' pleasure, after 

 the briefest delay he advanced again, not how- 

 ever with the reckless strides of a few moments 

 before, but with gingerly tread, as if now that 

 the supreme moment had come he was appre- 

 hensive of dislodging the creatures he was so 

 eager to kill. He had taken a few cautious steps 

 when there was a slight rustling; then, to his 

 dismay, a bittern rose and flew down the creek. 

 Up went the gun, the fore-finger found, but did 

 not pull, the trigger; and the bird escaped 

 without further scare. It was a terrible dis- 

 appointment, under which the old man collapsed. 



