maintained. "Of course, you can't eliminate a certain amount of cruelty;
but, admitting that, isn't it just as well that men who live in a
luxurious civilization should be willing to plod through miles of heather
after grouse, risk their limbs on horseback, or spend hours in cold
water? These are bracing things; they imply some moral discipline. It
really can't be nice to ride at a dangerous fence, or to flounder down a
rapid after an otter when you're stiff with cold. The effort to do so
must be wholesome."

"A sure thing," Carroll agreed. "The only trouble is that when you've got
your fox or otter, it isn't worth anything. A good many of the people in
the newer lands, every day, have to make something of the kind of effort
you describe. In their case, the results are wagon trails, valleys
cleared for orchards, or new branch railroads. I suppose it's a matter of
opinion, but if I'd put in a season's risky work, I'd rather have a piece
of land to grow fruit on or a share in a mineral claim--you get plenty of
excitement in prospecting for that--than a fox's tail."

He strolled along the bank with Evelyn, following the hunt up-stream.
Suddenly he looked around.

"Mopsy's gone; and I don't see Vane."

"After all, he's one of us," Evelyn laughed. "If you're born in the
North Country, it's hard to keep out of the river when you hear the
otter hounds."

"But Mopsy's not going in!"

"I'm afraid I can't answer for her."