HAUNTS OF THE OTTER 41 



themselves a bit on that beech stam at times. I've 

 sin 'em. My job fur to-day is close handy, so you 

 can come and tell me if they show up. The back- 

 water would be my pitch, if I was you ; that ain't bin 

 worked, I know, for the bream was showin' well up 

 there. Some of 'em looked as big as a pair of 

 bellows. If they ain't much to eat they give good 

 sport, an' I reckon you like that' 



I put my pipe away as a first precaution, for a 

 scent of tobacco will give the alarm at once to wild 

 creatures whether furred or feathered, and then sit 

 down, nearly hidden by the timbers of the weir, keep- 

 ing very quiet, and my eyes wide open. There is 

 hardly a ripple on the surface by the fallen beech ; 

 the river is deep and narrow here just now. A few 

 days' rain alters the whole look of things, and the 

 now sluggish Mole, pent close by the hills, receives 

 all the water from their sloping sides, and rushes like 

 a mountain torrent over meadows and paths, beside 

 mills and bridges, making many of them impassable 

 for a time. The high banks in some places close 

 to the edge are only held together by the roots of 

 the trees above. You could swim in under the banks 

 and look up at the network of roots and tangled fibre 

 if you are curious that way. There are some uncanny- 

 looking places of the sort. Then, too, you can get a 



