collars almost as
costly as a full coat. And so the mink-hunt went on merrily for the man
till the midwinter lull came at Christmas. For that year the mink-hunt
was over.

II

_Nekik the Otter_

Sakwasew was not the only fisher at the pool below the falls. On one of
those idle days when the trapper sat lazily by the river side, a round
head slightly sunburned from black to russet had hobbled up to the
surface of the water, peered sharply at the man sitting so still,
paddled little flipper-like feet about, then ducked down again.
Motionless as the mossed log under him sits the man; and in a moment up
comes the little black head again, round as a golf ball, about the size
of a very large cat, followed by three other little bobbing heads--a
mother otter teaching her babies to dive and swim and duck from the
river surface to the burrows below the water along the river bank.
Perhaps the trapper has found a dead fish along this very bank with only
the choice portions of the body eaten--a sure sign that nekik the otter,
the little epicure of the water world, has been fishing at this river.

With a scarcely perceptible motion, the man turns his head to watch the
swimmers. Instantly, down they plunge, mother and babies, to come to the
surface again higher up-stream, evidently working up-current like the
beaver in spring for a glorious frolic in the cold clear waters of the
upper sources. At one place on the sandy beach they all wade ashore. The
man utters a slight "Hiss!" Away they scamper, the foolish youngsters,
landward instead of to the safe water as the hesitating mother would
have them do, all the little feet scrambling over the sand with the
funny short steps of a Chinese lady in tight boots. Maternal care proves
stronger than fear. The frightened mother follows the young otter and
will no doubt read them a sound lecture on land dangers when she has
rounded them back to the safe water higher up-stream.

Of all wild creatures, none is so crafty in concealing its lairs as the
otter. Where did this family come from? They had not been swimming
up-stream; for the man had been watching on the river bank long before
they appeared on the surface. Stripping, the trapper dives in
mid-stream, then half wades, half swims along the steepest bank, running
his arm against the clay cliff to find a burrow. On land he could not do
this at the lair of the otter; for the smell of the man-touch would be
left on his trail, and the ott