THE TRACKERS AT WORK 159 



the moorman, who also got the stream near his 

 cot ; old Ikey got the Liddens, as was only fair, 

 since the pools were on his holding ; the marsh- 

 man, the marsh ; and the poachers shared the 

 waters that remained, the order of choice being 

 decided by the length of straw, drawn from 

 the landlord's closed hand. Geordie and Tom, 

 who as leaders of their profession had first and 

 second choice, to their chagrin got the shortest 

 straws. 



Now for rivercraft or marshcraft the fourteen 

 men that daily gave at least an hour or two to the 

 search could not, perhaps, have been matched 

 outside that most ancient terrain of the otter- 

 hunter, the Principality of Wales. Yet though 

 the otter followed the usual trails over the moor, 

 the trackers never once came on a sign of him. 

 The reason is not far to seek. The beds of the 

 river and the streams are for the most part rocky, 

 the shallows and landing-places pebbly, and spits 

 of sand are few and far between. It was on 

 these last that the trackers relied to find the foot- 

 prints, and at dawn they might have been seen 

 bending over them, plying their craft as eagerly 

 as men seeking gold or precious stones. They 

 found nothing, for the otter had never set foot 

 there. Once, indeed, he left his tracks within a 



