hurried on in front and reproached them for their tardiness. Sometimes
they heard the hounds, sometimes a hoarse shouting that traveled far
through the still air, and then sometimes there was only the tremulous
song of running water. At length, after crossing several wet fields, they
came to a rushy meadow on the edge of the river, which spread out into a
wide pool, fringed with alders which had not yet lost their leaves and
the barer withes of osiers. There was a swift stream at the head of it,
and a long rippling shallow at the tail; and scattered along the bank and
in the water was a curiously mixed company.

A red-coated man with whip and horn stood in the tail outflow, and three
or four more with poles in their hands were spread out across the stream
behind him. These, and one or two in the head stream, appeared by their
dress to belong to the hunt; but the rest, among whom were a few women,
were attired in every-day garments and were of different walks in life:
artisans, laborers, people of leisure, and a late tourist or two.

Three or four big hounds were swimming aimlessly up and down the pool; a
dozen more trotted to and fro along the water's edge, stopping to sniff
and give tongue in an uncertain manner now and then; but there was no
sign of an otter.

Carroll looked round with a smile when his companions stopped.

"It strikes me there'll be very little work done in this neighborhood
to-day," he remarked. "I'd no idea there were so many people in the
valley with time to spare. The only thing that's missing is the beast
they're after."

"An otter is an almost invisible creature," Evelyn explained. "You very