54 WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



sorrow. ' Look ! see that plough-up of the water, 

 just under ; she's heard him and is coming fast,' 

 whispers the man. 



With a rush, she shoots from the river to the 

 meadow, and is at once shot. Her love for her cubs 

 has cost her her life. 



' They will make a good case for the House when 

 they are set up, won't they ? ' 



' Set up,' indeed ! No doubt they will. Any talk 

 of setting up and stuffing of wild creatures generally 

 gets my dander up. It takes a man that is familiar 

 with the animal in its native haunts, and an artist to 

 boot, to make the poor dead things look natural and 

 lifelike. 



' How do you account for the number of otters 

 about here ? ' I ask the man presently. 



' Why, this way. They have always been about 

 the river, but not just in this part till late years. You 

 see, before the old squire died there was a good lot of 

 keepers and lookers-out, for he kept up a good head 

 of game. So if an otter come down here, he had a 

 hot time of it. Some of the gentry up the river that 

 had ponds on their lawns, with gold-fish in them, 

 knowed they was about, for though there was plenty 

 for 'em in the river they would come out of it and get 

 the gold-fish. The old squire's going off made a great 



