Page:Life Story of an Otter.djvu/174

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THE LIFE STORY OF AN OTTER

trample upon the matted sprays in order to drive the otters from their last possible retreat.

He had taken some half a dozen steps when a patch of snow falling from the brambles well in front informed him that something was afoot. On the instant he stopped to listen, whilst his restless eyes sought the likely points of escape, and the gun shook in his nervous hands. As the otters did not show, he felt sure they were stealing away before him, and carefully watched some reeds into which they must pass on leaving the thicket. Seeing a slight agitation in the stems, he tore like a madman through the rest of the scrub, and stood at the edge ready to shoot. But, too excited to await the otters' pleasure, after the briefest delay he advanced again, not however with the reckless strides of a few moments before, but with gingerly tread, as if now that the supreme moment had come he was apprehensive of dislodging the creatures he was so eager to kill. He had taken a few cautious steps when there was a slight rustling; then, to his dismay, a bittern rose and flew down the creek. Up went the gun, the fore-finger found, but did not pull, the trigger; and the bird escaped without further scare. It was a terrible disappointment, under which the old man collapsed.