Baree was fully three-quarters of a mile from the windfall when he came
to a point where the creek split itself into two channels. He had but
one choice to follow--the stream that flowed a little south and east.
This stream did not run swiftly. It was not filled with shimmering
riffles, and rocks about which the water sang and foamed. It grew
black, like the forest. It was still and deep. Without knowing it,
Baree was burying himself deeper and deeper into Tusoo's old trapping
grounds. Since Tusoo had died, they had lain undisturbed except for the
wolves, for Gray Wolf and Kazan had not hunted on this side of the
waterway--and the wolves themselves preferred the more open country for
the chase.

Suddenly Baree found himself at the edge of a deep, dark pool in which
the water lay still as oil, and his heart nearly jumped out of his body
when a great, sleek, shining creature sprang out from almost under his
nose and landed with a tremendous splash in the center of it. It was
Nekik, the otter.

The otter had not heard Baree, and in another moment Napanekik, his
wife, came sailing out of a patch of gloom, and behind her came three
little otters, leaving behind them four shimmering wakes in the
oily-looking water. What happened after that made Baree forget for a
few minutes that he was lost. Nekik had disappeared under the surface,
and now he came up directly under his unsuspecting mate with a force
that lifted her half out of the water. Instantly he was gone again, and
Napanekik took after him fiercely. To Baree it did not look like play.
Two of the baby otters had pitched on the third, which seemed to be
fighting desperately. The chill and ache went out of Baree's body. His
blood ran excitedly. He forgot himself, and let out a bark. In a flash
the otters disappeared. For several minutes the water in the pool