When fishing a pool he always hunts outward from the center,
driving the fish towards the bank, keeping himself within their
circlings, and so having the immense advantage of the shorter
line in heading off his game. The fish are seized as they crouch
against the bank for protection, or try to dart out past him.
Large fish are frequently caught from behind as they lie resting
in their spring-holes. So swift and noiseless is his approach
that they are seized before they become aware of danger.

This swimming power of Keeonekh is all the more astonishing when
one remembers that he is distinctively a land animal, with none
of the special endowments of the seal, who is his only rival as a
fisherman. Nature undoubtedly intended him to get his living, as
the other members of his large family do, by hunting in the
woods, and endowed him accordingly. He is a strong runner, a good
climber, a patient tireless hunter, and his nose is keen as a
brier. With a little practice he could again get his living by
hunting, as his ancestors did. If squirrels and rats and rabbits
were too nimble at first, there are plenty of musquash to be
caught, and he need not stop at a fawn or a sheep, for he is
enormously strong, and the grip of his jaws is not to be
loosened.

In severe winters, when fish are scarce or his pools frozen over,
he takes to the woods boldly and shows himself a master at
hunting craft. But he likes fish, and likes the water, and for
many generations now has been simply a fisherman, with many of
the quiet lovable traits that belong to fishermen in general.

That is one thing to give you instant sympathy for Keeonekh--he