"You really are doing very well," said Uncle Andy, "if you _did_ ask
that one fool question. When we were creeping up on the otter, to try
and get a look at them while they were playing, you did very well
indeed. You stepped as light as a cat, and that's not easy mind, I
tell you, when one's not trained to it. You didn't even breathe too
hard--and I know you must have been just bursting with excitement.
You've got the makings of a first-rate woodsman in you, if you take
pains."

The Babe's small chest swelled with pride; for commendation from Uncle
Andy was a scarce article. He too sat down on the fallen trunk and
began digging at the bark with his knife to hide his exultation.

"I suppose now," went on Uncle Andy presently, when his pipe was
drawing well, "you know quite a lot about otter."

"Nothing at all but what Bill's told me," answered the Babe with fine
diplomacy.

"Forget it!" said Uncle Andy; and went on smoking in thoughtful
silence. Presently he remarked--"This otter family appears to have
been having a pretty good time!"

"Great!" said the Babe laconically.

"Well," continued Uncle Andy, regarding him with approval, "there was
once another otter family, away up on the Little North Fork of the
Ottanoonsis, that used to have such good times till at last they struck
a streak of bad luck."