THE OTTERS IN DESPAIR 147 



escaped through the bars. The tide rose, yet the 

 little creature, despite the rush of the waters and 

 the blows she received from the stone that 

 weighted the pot, remained where she was until 

 she had consumed all except the feelers and 

 harder parts of the shell ; then, leaving by the 

 way she had entered, she skirted reef and ledge 

 in the dawn-light, and made straight for the 

 clitter. Her one thought was for her famished 

 cubs, which, before the sun was very high, she 

 was suckling from her abundance, purring whilst 

 they fed. 



That day a thaw set in, and a shag appeared 

 on the Seal Rock. The otter, who had shifted 

 his quarters to avoid the drippings from the 

 cliffs, after watching the bird's fishing for a time, 

 began himself to fish. At the end of a long, 

 fruitless quest he landed ; but now, in his ex- 

 tremity, no longer careful for his safety, he lay 

 out in the open on a granite boulder. Happily no 

 harm came of it. Through the night he and his 

 mate hunted in the deep water beyond the rock, 

 still without seeing a fin, so that when the sun 

 peeped above the sea the creatures returned to 

 the cliffs in despair. At noon the mother brought 

 her puny little ones from the dank cave and laid 

 them in the sun's rays to enjoy the genial warmth ; 



19—2 



