92 WILD SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



Just then a human figure turned the rock abruptly, 

 and the old otter-killer stood beside us. The rushing 

 of the stream prevented us from noticing his approach. 

 He had been examining his traps, and as the way was 

 rugged, he was delayed till now. The old man's appear- 

 ance in this place, and at that hour, was picturesque. 

 His dark dress, his long, white hair, falling down his 

 shoulders, the seal-skin wallet, the fish-spear, and the 

 rough terrier, his companion, all were in perfect keeping. 



" Well, Antony, what sport ? " 



" Little to speak of, Master Julius. I suspect the 

 trap wants oiling, for there was an otter's spraints* 

 every place about it. I went to the lake yonder, and 

 while the breeze kept up the fish took well. I killed 

 a dozen red trout." 



" Did you meet any of the ' gentlefolk,'-^ friend 

 Antony ? This is just the night that one would expect 

 to find them quadrilling upon some green and mossy 

 hillock." 



The old man smiled and turned to me, 



" Well, well, the master won't believe in them ; but 

 if he had seen them as I did " 



" And did you really see them ? " 



" God knows, I tell you truth, Sir." Then, resting 

 himself on a rock, he thus continued : 



" It will be eleven years next month, when I was 

 hunting otters at Lough na Mucka ; the master knows 

 the place, for many a good grouse he shot beside it. I 

 then had the two best farriers beneath the canopy ; 

 this poor crater is their daughter," and he patted the 

 dog's head affectionately. " Well, I had killed two 



* Marks or traces left by the animal. f Fairies. 



