320 COVERT-SIDE SKETCHES, 



CHAPTEE XXX. 



OTTER-HUNTING. 



One labour yet remains, celestial maid, 

 Another element demands thy song. 

 No more o'er craggy steeps, thro' coverts thick 

 With pointed thorn, and briers intricate. 

 Urge on with horn and voice the painful pack, 

 But skim with wanton wing th' irriguous vale. 

 Where winding streams amid the flow'ry meads 

 Perpetual glide along. 



The chase of tlie otter is totally different from any I have yet 

 'treated of, and, although he seems to have been held in more 

 estimation by our forefathers than has been the case, say, within 

 the present century — he was looked on as a beast of *' stinking 

 chase " as opposed to beasts of " sweet chase," such as the stag 

 and buck — they appear to have had a considerable degree of 

 pleasure in hunting him. It is not, perhaps, to be wondered 

 at that quaint old Isaac Walton, keen fisherman that he was, 

 should have chosen the otter as the chase to be brought in 

 juxtaposition to his own beloved sport, for it is only fair to 

 surmise that there was little love lost between the good old 

 man and the river thief. By the way, if Isaac had only been a 

 hunting man, what a glorious description would he not have 

 given us of the chase of those days ! As it is, setting aside the 

 enmity he must have borne to otters, and the time of year- 

 at which they are hunted, coming, as we may say, pat to his 

 purpose, to bring about the celebrated dialogue, it is very 

 certain that otter-hunting must, in his day, have been held in 



