160 THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER 



bowshot of Moor Pool — tracks so plain that they 

 seemed to cry out ; but before the bailiff reached 

 the spot the river rose and obliterated them, and 

 the bailiff never knew how near he had been to 

 discovery. 



After the quest had gone on for nearly a 

 month, when men and squire were beginning to 

 fear that the otter had abandoned the district or 

 that his skin was adorning the bedroom floor of 

 some keeper who had trapped him, by the merest 

 chance the moorman happened on the prints near 

 the boundary of his little holding. He was struck 

 all of a heap, as he said, at the unexpected sight ; 

 but on recovering himself he remembered the 

 squire's words and the look in his eyes, so, though 

 the sun was only a few handbreaths above the 

 moor, he left the peat where he had dropped it 

 and set off at a brisk pace for the Big House. In 

 his excitement he forgot the hounds were out 

 until he reached the wood ; but there, to the 

 amazement of the watching woodman, who had 

 wondered at his haste, he suddenly turned, late 

 as it was, and made for the cross-roads, hoping 

 to intercept the squire and save himself a very 

 long journey. 



By good luck the moorman reached the top of 

 the hill just in time to hail the squire as he rode 



