144 ON SURREY HILLS. 



cerned. The fish in the pool rush to the sides of the 

 banks ; so do the otters. Frightened fish lie closely 

 together ; the otter knows this, and catches them 

 easily. A rush on the shallow, and up goes the 

 double barrel ; but it is not one of the otters that 

 shows only a large eel weighing certainly five 

 pounds : his silver belly flashes like a streak of 

 light as he makes for the next pool higher up. 



He does not mean to let the otters make his ac- 

 quaintance, if he can help it : they are, like the lady 

 in the Ingoldsby legend, remarkably fond of eels. 

 As we still stand perfectly quiet a hedgehog comes 

 to the toe of my shoe, places his fore-feet on it, sniffs, 

 murmurs a little, and passes on. Rabbits dot to and 

 fro, and one hare rushes over the meadows. Master 

 Reynard is not far away, for here he has his strong- 

 hold during the season. You may hear the yapping 

 bark of the dog fox and the scream of the vixen, 

 at intervals, all through the night. The badger 

 once had his home on the hillside, but the poor 

 fellow has been rooted out. 



Once more the light has shifted. " I can't see 

 rightly here," whispers my friend. " I will get into 

 the water in the shade ; it is quite warm. If they 



