64 I COMMENCE TRAPPING 



was low and covered with a short scrub, which 

 made a scratching noise as I went through. 

 About fifty yards walking brought me to a small 

 mound, an old decayed beaver hut. I sat down 

 on it to listen. I was not certain of what had 

 caused this splashing, but had expectations that 

 it was the otters again, and sure enough I had 

 not been there two minutes before one of them 

 rose, and then the other two. They were only 

 about fifteen feet from me, evidently trying to 

 make out what was sitting there. I hardly breath- 

 ed, and very slowly brought the gun up and fired 

 at what appeared the biggest one. For a moment 

 I could not see anything. There was a big splash 

 in the water, but when it all subsided 1 saw a 

 black object floating. I shouted to the Indian to 

 come with the canoe. He had already started 

 down on hearing the report. He soon joined me, 

 and I picked up, my first otter. How proud I 

 felt of that shot ! At the camp fire I looked it all 

 over and stroked it, and looked again, and I think 

 I dreamt of it all night. Since then I have shot 

 about fifty more, and on one occasion killed three 

 in one shot, but never felt prouder than I did of 

 that first one. It was the female I had killed that 

 night, and subsequently we trapped the two 

 young ones. The next day we found the beaver 

 lodge we were seeking. The methods of captur- 

 ing the occupants will be found in the next chap- 

 ter. 



