the great tree under which was their secret doorway. That was
surprising, for up to this time both otters had always approached
it from the river, and were never seen on the bank near their
den. She appeared to be digging, but was immensely cautious about
it, looking, listening, sniffing continually. I had never gone
near the place for fear of frightening them away; and it was
months afterward, when the den was deserted, before I examined it
to understand just what she was doing. Then I found that she had
made another doorway from her den leading out to the bank. She
had selected the spot with wonderful cunning,--a hollow under a
great root that would never be noticed,--and she dug from inside,
carrying the earth down to the river bottom, so that there should
be nothing about the tree to indicate the haunt of an animal.

Long afterwards, when I had grown better acquainted with
Keeonekh's ways from much watching, I understood the meaning of
all this. She was simply making a safe way out and in for the
little ones, who were afraid of the water. Had she taken or
driven them out of her own entrance under the river, they might
easily have drowned ere they reached the surface.

When the entrance was all ready she disappeared, but I have no
doubt she was just inside, watching to be sure the coast was
clear. Slowly her head and neck appeared till they showed clear
of the black roots. She turned her nose up stream--nothing in the
wind. Eyes and ears searched below--nothing harmful there. Then
she came out, and after her toddled two little otters, full of
wonder at the big bright world, full of fear at the river.

There was no play at first, only wonder and investigation.