NOTES ON THE OTTER. 93 
were only to be found in the solitude of the least inhabited por- 
tions of the country, but this theory has gradually exploded. All 
our rivers having short courses to the sea are frequented by them 
more or less at different seasons of the year, which has been 
proved by successful hunts which have been carried on, where 
only a few years ago their presence was unknown and un- 
thought of. The Otter breeds in two different seasons of the 
year—spring and autumn—but whether the same animal breeds 
twice Iam unable to say. Choosing some “holt,” as its under- 
ground workings are called, well away from the haunts of man, 
they will make a nice comfortable nest of dry grass and other 
soft matter. Here they produce and bring up their young until 
old enough to forage for their own living. While they suckle the 
mother they render her powerless to leave any scent by which 
either hound or dog could trace her to her lair. When under the 
mother’s care she is most attentive, watching over their welfare 
with as much motherly affection as will one of our own species 
with her firstborn, and in evidence of this I once saw a good 
illustration. 
Fishing up the River Tamar, through the Duke of Bedford’s 
beautiful domain called ‘Endsleigh,’ by Tavistock, in Devon- 
shire, as I rounded a bend in the stream I suddenly ‘‘ gazed ”’ 
an Otter close to the edge of the water, trying to take hold 
with her mouth of what looked like a little lump of fur, but 
which wriggled and kicked to such an extent that she found 
some difficulty in attaining her object. In a moment, how- 
ever, she seemed to be aware of my presence, though her back 
was towards me, and, making a final and successful grab, 
with a rush she took the water, and on landing on the far side 
at once disappeared in one of the many gutters with which 
these beautiful gardens are drained. Though her whole body 
was exposed to my view right across the river, she completely 
hid her cub. 
In this same neighbourhood I also saw another instance of 
their affection. As I was about to leave the river, after wading 
up a ‘‘stickle,’”’ suddenly I saw a wave coming down the pool 
above me (all Devon rivers beyond navigation are pools and 
stickles), as though a large fish had jumped, but in a moment 
I saw two fair-sized cub Otters quickly swimming round and 
