she is very weary, and as the pool to which the hedge runs down offers no harbourage, she remains where she is. But though the hounds soon wind her, the denseness of the thicket hinders them from getting at her until the terriers force her to the river. In the shallow water every eye can mark her where she swims and note her shortening dives. The end is near. Presently Dosmary seizes her as she rises, and the pack worries her life out.
That night, when the storm had passed, the miller heard the cries of two otters in the tangled coppice beyond the orchard, and as he knocked the ashes from his pipe before going indoors, said: 'They're missin' her, I'm thinkin'.' He was right. It was the voice of the cubs calling for their mother.
They were there again the next night, and the next; after that they gave up the vain search and withdrew to the moorland.
It was well for the young creatures, thus thrown on their own resources, that they were able to fend for themselves. Indeed, as has been seen, the male cub had already shown signs of revolt against his mother's authority, and of a desire for independence.
He was free now, free to roam as he liked, to
