THE OTTER'S HOLT 11 



the furthest hills, and though the hills the sound wouldn't come right ; per- 



looked black against the sky, there haps he'd been short of practice since 



was a cold, white light about the earn, his courting days ; anyrate, a minute 



" Sudden-like, I heard a stone fall- after he seemed quite frightened by 

 ing again by the stream, and made the noise he'd made, and ran as fast 

 out some grey "animal climbing through as he could in and out of the heather 

 the shadows into the light. Then I bushes to a mound where some sheep 

 saw, as it came nearer, 'twas a full- had scratched a shelter from the wind, 

 sized otter carrying something in her Once there, he felt safe, and, drooping 

 mouth. She came to a sort of gallery his wings, he strutted about as if the 

 between the rock I was lying on and whole moor belonged to 'n. One little 

 the next, so close that by leaning poult, then another, and another, 

 over I could have touched her with till I counted ten of 'em, came from 

 my beating-pole. She must have the place where they'd been hiding 

 smelt me, I fancy, for she disappeared, for the night ; and, last of all, the 

 with a gallop like a weasel's, under hen showed herself. The little 'uns 

 a block of stone at the end of the ran here and there, pecking and 

 gallery. I found the opening later on squabbling, but never far from their 

 in the morning, and, what's more, I mother ; and she walked, stately- 

 learnt, by some feathers lying about, like, and taking plenty of time, to 

 that 'twas a grouse-poult she'd carried where her mate was playing pranks 

 in her mouth. on the ' tump.' By the mound was 



' I stayed on the rock, and finished an open place, with a fringe of heather 

 the bread and cheese I'd brought in hardly a foot high, and, behind this, 

 my pocket. Nothing was stirring on furze and fern and heather standing 

 the moor. The morning drew nigh tall. The old birds looked quite con- 

 to sunrise when the ferns and heather tent, and like to stay there for hours, 

 moved again by the stream, and out till the sun got strong, 

 walked the old cock grouse into the " I'll never see a prettier picture 

 open. He trimmed his feathers, than that family of feeding grouse 

 stretched his wings, scratched his neck at home on the moor. Nature's kind 

 with his claws, and then, standing to wild creatures, sir ; a lot kinder 

 high on his legs, he tried to crow, than to me and you. We've got the 

 But somehow he'd forgotten the trick; power to think, and think, to be 



