252 IN BERKSHIRE FIELDS 



craft. As their enemies decrease, the last few otters, 

 with half a chance for life, begin to restore their 

 breed again. The constantly increasing pollution 

 of our larger streams, with banks most suitable for 

 an animal of his size to nest in, must have had much 

 to do with his disappearance, as well as the lust of 

 the hunters. 



I saw an otter only last spring on the bank of the 

 Housatonic River where it flows through the links 

 of the Stockbridge Golf Club. He was running 

 along above the water, on the steep, muddy slope, 

 and when he saw me he simply made a toboggan of 

 himself and slid down, swimming off at a rate of 

 speed that would have done credit to a pickerel, and 

 leaving, for a few feet only, a surface wake like a 

 just submerged torpedo. The river is so polluted, 

 however, that no fish can live in it except German 

 carp, and any sensible otter would seek some tribu- 

 tary to ascend as soon as he could. He might not 

 even wait, but go overland, dragging his long body 

 and powerful tail through the snow or mud. An 

 otter's tracks in the snow are quite unmistakable, 

 and frequently go for long distances overland. I 

 have heard trappers affirm that an otter will travel 

 seventy -five miles in a night, by crossing overland 

 from one headwater to another, or one pond to 

 another. While so great a distance would be diffi- 

 cult of proof, it is easily proved that an otter will 

 cross several land miles from water to water, and 

 he could certainly swim the remainder of the dis- 

 tance in a very few hours, if he desired. It is on 

 their portages, as it were, between ponds or head- 

 waters, that the trappers usually catch them. 



