THE OTTER AND HIS WAYS. 303 



on a river, should be made with rough stones, and have its 

 entrance, about eight inches square, at least a foot below the 

 ordinary height of the water ; then it should slant upwards till 

 it reach ground high and dry above the highest level of a 

 winter's flood. At that point a cross-flue, intersecting the 

 other, and in shape like the capital letter T, should be formed 

 in the dry soil ; but it should be of larger dimensions than the 

 entrance passage— say a foot in width— so that an otter, or 

 a couple of otters, might find room in it to curl up and go to 

 sleep. This chamber, covered with stone slabs and a thick 

 layer of earth, should then be turfed over, so as thoroughly to 

 exclude light and air from above. 



When a drag in its vicinity leads to the belief that a lodger 

 is within, a few hearty blows with an otter pole on the turf 

 overhead will probably drive him at once to quit the tenement ; 

 but failing that, a crowbar let down and rattled on the cover 

 stones would be sure to have the desired effect ; and if so, a 

 chain of pearl-like bubbles would at once rise to tell the tale. 

 On no account should the ground be opened and a terrier 

 aUowed to enter the drain ; an otter so bolted, if not killed, 

 would never more trust himself in it ; nay, the taint of the 

 terrier would be so strong and lasting that I doubt much (for 

 they tell each other) if any otters would ever lodge there again. 

 A wonderful network of nerves permeates the otter's nose, and 

 gives that organ a power possessed by few other animals — a 

 boon Nature has bestowed upon him, not only to enable him 

 to hunt up his prey, but to protect his life. 



If an artificial drain on a fish pond be contemplated, no 

 man could do better than follow the plan adopted by Mr. John 

 Bulteel of Pamflete, whose experience of otter life, derived 

 partly therefrom, is so interesting that it may well encourage 

 others to go and do likewise. The pond itself is an artificial 

 one, formed by intercepting a brook that aforetime was wont 

 to chatter through a dark dingle, until it jomed the river Erme 

 about a mile from the sea. The banks on either side are 

 fringed by a dense growth of evergreens, but especially by 



