ing, he dived cleanly into the
pond, about the point where, as the Boy guessed, there would be the
greatest depth of water against the dam. He was apparently heading
straight up for the inlet of the pond, on a path which would take him
within about twenty-five or thirty yards of the main beaver-house on
the island. As soon as he had vanished under the water the Boy ran
forward, mounted the crest of the dam, and peered with shaded eyes to
see if he could mark the swimmer's progress.

[Illustration: "THE OTTER MOVED WITH UNUSUAL CAUTION."]

For a couple of minutes, perhaps, the surface of the pond gave no
indication of the otter's whereabouts. Then, just opposite the main
beaver-house, there was a commotion in the water, the surface curled
and eddied, and the otter appeared in great excitement. He dived again
immediately; and just as he did so the head of a huge beaver poked up
and snatched a breath. Where the two had gone under, the surface of
the pond now fairly boiled; and the Boy, in his excitement over this
novel and mysterious contest, nearly lost his balance on the frail
crest of the dam. A few moments more and both adversaries again came
to the surface, now at close grips and fighting furiously. They were
followed almost at once by a second beaver, smaller than the first,
who fell upon the otter with insane fury. It was plain that the
beavers were the aggressors. The Boy's sympathies were all with the
otter, who from time to time tried vainly to escape from the battle;
and once he raised his rifle. But he bethought him that the otter,
after all, whatever his intentions, was a trespasser; and that the
beavers had surely a right to police their own pond. He remembered an
old Indian's having told him that there was always a blood feud
between the beaver and the otter; and how was he to know how just the
cause of offence, or the stake at issue? Lowering his gun he stared in
breathless eagerness.

The otter, however, as it proved, was well able to take care of
himself. Suddenly rearing his sleek, snaky body half out of the water,
he flashed down upon the smaller beaver and caught it firmly behind
the ear with his long, deadly teeth--teeth designed to hold the
convulsive and slippery writhings of the largest salmon. With mad
contortions the beaver struggled to break that fatal grip. But the
otter held inexorably, shaking its victim as a terrier does a rat, and
paid no heed whatever to the slashing assaults of the oth