them to make their own way in the water. They began to swim
naturally enough, but the fear of the new element was still upon
them. The moment old Mother Otter appeared they made for her
whimpering, but she dived again and again, or moved slowly away,
and so kept them swimming. After a little they seemed to tire and
lose courage. Her eyes saw it quicker than mine, and she glided
between them. Both little ones turned in at the same instant and
found a resting place on her back. So she brought them carefully
to land again, and in a few moments they were all rolling about
in the dry leaves like so many puppies.

I must confess here that, besides the boy's wonder in watching
the wild things, another interest brought me to the river bank
and kept me studying Keeonekh's ways. Father Otter was a big
fellow,--enormous he seemed to me, thinking of my mink
skins,--and occasionally, when his rich coat glinted in the
sunshine, I was thinking what a famous cap it would make for the
winter woods, or for coasting on moonshiny nights. More often I
was thinking what famous things a boy could buy for the fourteen
dollars, at least, which his pelt would bring in the open market.

The first Saturday after I saw him I prepared a board, ten times
bigger than a mink-stretcher, and tapered one end to a round
point, and split it, and made a wedge, and smoothed it all down,
and hid it away--to stretch the big otter's skin upon when I
should catch him.

When November came, and fur was prime, I carried down a
half-bushel basket of heads and stuff from the fish market, and
piled them up temptingly on the bank, above a little water path,