BACK IN THE MORASS 153 



when about midway he must have been heard or 

 seen, for the frogs there ceased their chorus, and 

 forthwith the marsh became as silent as when in 

 the grip of the frost. On gaining the water's 

 edge he dived, and in a twinkling was back with 

 a frog, which he skinned and devoured. This 

 was the first of some half a score that he caught 

 and ate before repairing to a ditch-like piece of 

 water, dark from the shadowing alders, where he 

 long remained feasting. At length he had had 

 enough and, leaving the marsh, made for the 

 river, which he followed mile after mile till he 

 reached the morass and laid up in the hollow 

 bank in which he was born. 



Meanwhile otter-hunting had begun, and all 

 the country-side over men were on the lookout 

 for his tracks. Not since the mysterious dis- 

 appearance of the bob-tailed fox had so keen an 

 interest been taken in any wild creature. Through 

 the winter he had been the topic of conversation 

 in the chimney-corner of cotter and crofter, and 

 a very frequent intruder on the thoughts of the 

 squire. The slightest association was enough to 

 recall the creature to his mind : the sound of 

 running water, the appearance of a salmon- 

 poacher in court, even the sight of the short- 

 legged animal carved on the screen of the parish 



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