“Well, Andrew,” said Sir Bevil, “did the otter come up?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you manage to keep him up?” This with a smile, for he too had heard the midnight tooting. “I hope so, but there’s no knowin’, he’s bin12 heere,” said he, pointing to the tracks on the sand.
At that moment Jollyboy hits the line of the otter, throws his tongue and, jumping the fallen tree, takes to the water. The rest of the pack follows, Sir Bevil cheering them on. Swimming close to the bank, they make for the head of the lake, the valley resounding13 with their music as they pick up the scent14 left by the otter in his night’s fishing. They are a pretty sight as they skirt the wall of pale green reeds fringing the nearest creek and leave the water to enter the yielding cover. Evidently the varmint has not been there, for excepting the sing-song voices of the Welsh hounds, the pack is silent. Leaving the reed-bed they cross the furthest creek and are lost to sight under the dense15 rhododendron bushes. From there the few otters16 found at the lake have been “put down,” and the field is on the tiptoe of expectation. But expectations are seldom realised in otter-hunting. Not a sound comes from the dark green thicket17 except the cheery voice of Sir Bevil, for even Taffy and Gelert throw their babbling18 tongues no longer. Andrew’s heart sinks within him as the hounds issue from the tenantless19 bushes and make across the inflow towards the opposite strand20. But why dwell on his disappointment, now that the united pack—for Troubadour and Jollyboy have swum over from the island and joined the others—are only a good stone’s throw from the willow? To all appearance, they might nearly as well expect to find an otter on an open beach. True, there are a few bits of hollow bank, but the eye can safely pronounce them blank at a glance, and as for the tree, it looks as solid as an oak. “Terribly slow this,” says one of the field to his neighbour; may be it is so for him; but it is an anxious moment for the listening varmint, whose forepaws, the water, disturbed by the approaching pack, is beginning to lap. He is not kept long in suspense22. Dawnsman’s bell-like note proclaims the find, and the next moment the frantic23 pack is baying round the willow. Unable to get at the quarry24, the hounds swarm25 round the half-submerged trunk, pawing the bark in their helplessness; but the otter does not budge26. It is not fear that holds him there. He is bristling27 with rage and ready to do battle for his life, but only by compulsion will he leave his sanctuary28. Not one of the field is up to thunder at his walls with an otter-pole; but Venom, ever at hand, dives and at last finds the entrance, more than a foot below the surface. The otter sees the head of the terrier as it fills the hole, sees it rising through the dark water. “Yap, yap,” followed by a short, sharp scuffle; and the next moment the parson, who has hurried to the spot, views the chain of bubbles which betrays the escape of the game. A loud hew-gaze—what lungs the parson must have!—sends a thrill through the field, who have already posted themselves at different points around the lake. Not an eye is turned on the hounds, now following the game, not an ear heeds29 their music; no, every one, even old Nute himself, who loves the hounds and has come out to see them work, is watching the rippled31 surface ahead to get a view of the wily varmint when he vents32. As if disdaining33 the shelter of the banks, the otter comes up in mid-lake and floats there like a log, the water flush with his long back and his beadlike eyes gleaming in the morning light. “A grand beast,” says the doctor without taking his eyes off it. Yes, he is in the full pride of his great strength and without the help of the field; the pack, good as it is, would never tire him out. His back is towards the clamorous34 hounds, and surely they will seize him; but no, just as Dawnsman draws near, he dives, leaving a swirl35 behind him. When he comes up again he is not thirty yards from the fall. It were tedious to relate every detail of the hunt which went on for the next four hours, during which the hounds, aided by the hew-gazes of the field, never give the quarry any rest. At the end of that time the otter, somewhat exhausted37 by repeated dives, which have been getting shorter and shorter, lands on the island. Little respite38 does he get, for Padzepaw and Jollyboy, finding him there, make him take to the water again, but at the expense of frightful39 wounds. Then it is that Andrew gets a good view of the creature as he seeks the shallows and swims close to the sandy bottom. With his forepaws lying against his body he is propelling himself with his hind36 feet. His movements are too rapid for the Earthstopper to see this, and like a fleeting40 shadow the graceful41 creature is lost in the dark water. It next lands on the muddy margin42 of the near creek and rests on a mass of drift lying there. Old Nute is looking down at the fine beast over the reeds. The pack is nearly on him before he dives, but by swimming down the lake and doubling he succeeds in throwing off the hounds and gaining the shelter of the rhododendrons unobserved. A few minutes’ breathing-space only does he get before Merlin, Dozmary and Vivien discover his whereabouts. Smarting from their wounds, for all three of them have been gripped by the otter and taken to the bottom of the lake, they hesitate to attack the infuriated beast as he crouches43 there, grinning and showing his blood-stained teeth. Not so Vixen; the moment she arrives she flies at him and, the hounds closing in at the same time, a terrible conflict ensues. Badly mauled though he is, the formidable beast fights his way through his foes44, gains the water and dives with Vixen fastened to him. The terrier comes up after a time, but the otter disappears as if by magic. Baffled of their quarry, the maddened hounds draw nearly every hover45, except the insignificant46 one near the willow where the otter is resting with just his nostrils47 out of water. Old Sir Lopes sees him there; but he keeps the secret, though with some misgiving48, to himself. Forty years ago he would have shouted himself hoarse49; but somehow he cannot give the hunted beast away this morning. Knowing how it must end if he keeps to the lake, the otter resolves to try and steal away across country to the Newlyn stream. It is a desperate way out of the straits he is in, for it will probably mean death in the open; but there is just the chance that he may reach the safe drain below Buryas Bridge if he can only slip away unnoticed. But how is this possible? The space between him and the gulley that seams the steep rise by the ice-house is covered with turf that rabbits have nibbled50 close. Uninviting avenue of escape this under the very eye of the parson now posted near the willow, and with Merlin and Dawnsman swimming at last towards the spot where he rests, his eyes watching the hounds’ white legs through the clouded water. Yet at this critical moment, when renewed hue51 and cry seem imminent52, fortune favours the hunted creature. A tally-ho—by whom given Andrew was never able to find out—comes distinct and thrilling from the reed-bed at the head of the remotest creek, and draws away most of the field and all the hounds. The tremor53 of the bank caused by the hurrying feet at first fills the otter with fresh alarm, but in the quiet that succeeds he raises his head and listens.
“Wind him, my boys.” It is the Squire’s voice he can hear in the distance. Thinking the moment propitious54 he steals from the water, dashes across the sward, and presses up the gulley at the top of his speed. His immediate55 point is a hover beneath a big rock below Skimiel’s Bridge. The stream swirls56 round it, but a dry holt within is known to all the wandering tribe of otters. Only by a miracle can the slow-footed creature cover the two miles to it, before he is overtaken. Look at him as he hurries along under the shelter of that stone wall, as he threads his way among the furze bushes, as he glides57 like a monster eel11 through the coarse grasses, where the dew lies heavy. You are conscious of the great effort he is making to save his life. That dark spot below the high bank is the rock he is making for, and it is the silver thread of the stream surrounding it that you see sparkling here and there at the foot of the rugged58 slope. Till now he has taken nearly a bee-line, but will he dare to pass before the door of the farmhouse59 he is heading for, where an old woman is feeding the geese and a black pig blocks the narrow way. Do not wonder that this shyest of creatures recked not of the shaking of the old woman’s apron60, that he paid no heed30 to the pig which ran him neck and neck for twenty yards before going off at a tangent. With the lake now more than a mile behind, a posse of constables61 should not make him deviate62 from his line. But hark! Faint though the cry be, the otter hears it. Full well he knows that his escape has been discovered, that at every stride the hounds are gaining, and that there is no twist or turn on his hot trail to check them; but he cannot add to his best pace. Look, he has left the furze and bracken that hid his movements and is about to enter the reedy swamp which separates him from the stream. On landing he does not, like the fox, dwell to listen. No, some twenty yards below the rock he dives, nor does he come to the surface until he has gained its shelter. To his dismay he finds an otter in possession, one with whom he has mated. The cubs63, awakened64 out of their sleep, hiss65 at the hunted creature as his head shows above the gurgling water. Only for an instant does he stay to lick the bitch’s face with his hot tongue, then, after swimming down stream for some distance he lands and, reckless for the moment of his own safety, runs along the open bank in full view of the miller66 from Nancothan, who has tottered67 up the valley to raise the flushet of the mill stream. See! the old man is waving his white hat to attract the approaching hounds: he is shouting too at the top of his feeble voice; but the gallant68 beast keeps to the open bank, and not until he is past the shallows where the moorland cattle stand on sweltering days does he dive, fleeing like a shadow below the surface, more determined69 than ever to gain the safe drain he set out to reach. On reaching the stream most of the hounds take to the water, and just as Venom is getting dangerously near the rock Cunoval hits the downward line. Rallying to his cry, the pack flash along the bank and rapidly lessen70 the distance separating them from their distressed71 quarry.
Seeing the direction they are taking, the field, by a short cut, come up with them by the mill, where they have met with a check. Across the chord of a bend the hounds recover the line, and taking to the bed of the stream pass under Nancothan Bridge. The otter hears them coming, but another check gives him a slight advantage, and surely now he will reach the drain. Vain hope! Between him and his objective, in the narrow passage between two rocks that contract the stream, stands the Earthstopper. On finding that the otter had stolen away from the lake he guessed it would make for the sea, and has hurried across country to intercept72 it. Breathless after his long run, he has hardly taken up his position before he sees the otter coming towards him, breaking the water in its frantic hurry. Bang up against his legs it comes, and as it retreats up stream, the excited hounds come round the bend and swim over it. Nearly exhausted by its efforts, the beast takes shelter under a bank facing its old path to the lake, and when Sir Bevil has rushed past, it dives, crosses the stream, glides between the flags, and following the track it knows so well, presses up the hill as best it can towards the plantation73 where the Earthstopper had found its tracks.
“Se—seen the otter, Andrew?” gasps74 Sir Bevil.
“Yes, sir, he’s gone up strame, he’s touchin’.”
A Haunt of the Otter. [Face page 82.
The horn recalls the reluctant hounds, revelling75 in the scent that the stream carries down. There they come past the Earthstopper. See how eagerly they are drawing the banks, how impatient the check makes them. Gellert, who has the best nose of the pack, is getting close to the clump of iris76; the next moment his tell-tale tongue warns the pack that he has discovered the line of the quarry, and with triumphant77 clamour they breast the hillside on its hot trail. The game varmint has nearly gained the crest78, but he can scarcely hope to reach the adjacent valley. He seems to be standing79 still, in comparison with the hounds, which, with hackles up, are now racing80 for his blood. He is not half-way down the plantation when they stream over the wall that bounds it. Troubadour, ever to the fore21, gets a view of the beaten creature struggling on; but above the ominous81 whimpers of the pack the otter hears the roar of the fall, and this braces82 him to a final effort. Troubadour is all but on him as he springs from the high bank, and the next instant the spray flies from the pool as otter and hound strike the water.
Without showing himself the hunted beast seeks refuge behind the roots of the big elm which, a week before, had attracted the eye of the Earthstopper. The otter is in sore plight83, but little does he fear the infuriated pack now. They may bay outside his stronghold to their heart’s content. But he’s not done with yet. Venom and Vixen have just disappeared between the coils of the roots and are making for a ledge84 within, where the creature is resting and breathing heavily. Then Sir Bevil, the parson, the doctor, and the Earthstopper come rushing down between the trees. The next moment Andrew is lying at full length and listening. With his ear close to the ground, he can hear the terriers yapping six or eight feet below.
“They caan’t get at un, sir,” says he, rising to his feet after a time, his voice scarcely audible above the clamour of the hounds and the roar of the fall.
“Then we’ll leave him, we won’t dig. He’s a grand beast and deserves his life. You look disappointed, Andrew?”
“No, sir, should only a’ liked to a’ seed the pad of un.”
With some difficulty the hounds are called off and the terriers induced to come out. The otter lived some years after, but Andrew never spurred him again.
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1
otter
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| n.水獭 | |
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dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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eel
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| n.鳗鲡 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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resounding
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| adj. 响亮的 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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otters
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| n.（水）獭( otter的名词复数 )；獭皮 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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tenantless
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| adj.无人租赁的，无人居住的 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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heeds
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| n.留心，注意，听从( heed的名词复数 )v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的第三人称单数 ) | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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vents
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| （气体、液体等进出的）孔、口( vent的名词复数 )； （鸟、鱼、爬行动物或小哺乳动物的）肛门； 大衣等的)衩口； 开衩 | |
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disdaining
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| 鄙视( disdain的现在分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
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clamorous
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| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
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swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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crouches
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| n.蹲着的姿势( crouch的名词复数 )v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的第三人称单数 ) | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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45
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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nibbled
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的过去式和过去分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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swirls
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| n.旋转( swirl的名词复数 )；卷状物；漩涡；尘旋v.旋转，打旋( swirl的第三人称单数 ) | |
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glides
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| n.滑行( glide的名词复数 )；滑音；音渡；过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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deviate
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| v.(from)背离，偏离 | |
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cubs
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| n.幼小的兽，不懂规矩的年轻人( cub的名词复数 ) | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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74
gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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75
revelling
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| v.作乐( revel的现在分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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78
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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79
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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80
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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81
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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82
braces
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| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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83
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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