THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR. 



she sends strange shadows upon the earth, which 

 make him tremble with fright. 



He at last begins to retrace his steps towards 

 the river, for it is close upon dawn, and daylight 

 must see him in his "hover," as otter-hunters call 

 his burrow. Hark ! what is that noise that is 

 borne upon the chill morning breeze? He stops, 

 and listens intently. It is repeated. He knows 

 it too well. It is the twang of a horn, and close 

 upon it is the belling of a hound. The otter- 

 hunters are afoot, and, as he still listens, the 

 loud chorus of hound-cries rings through the wood. 

 He knows that they have found his scent or 

 " drag,"' and have cut off his retreat from the 

 river. There is no place in the pool where he 

 can conceal himself, so he turns tail and bounds 

 through the wood, following the stream upwards, 

 fear lending speed to his feet, until he reaches the 

 open fields. Crossing these at a gallop, he strikes 

 the head of another burn, and tearing down this 

 he regains the river. Even as he does so he is 

 overtaken, and surrounded by his pursuers in the 

 shallow stream. An eager sportsman dashes up to 

 his waist in the water, and seizes the otter by his 

 tail in the approved method, but he is not quick 

 enough. Ere he can swing the poor hunted beast 

 clear of the water, the latter has turned round and 

 made his teeth meet in the arm of his would-be 

 captor, who lets him go. The otter slips past the 

 hounds and regains the deep water, and shoitly 



205 



