CHAPTER XXI
A RACE FOR LIFE
When life's at stake 'tis no disgrace
To run from what you dare not face.
Little Joe Otter and his family had traveled many miles from the Laughing Brook on their way to that other brook where Little Joe was sure they would find better fishing. They had left a deep trail through the snow. It happened that this trail was found by an old trapper, who was tramping through the woods.
"Traveling Otter!" he exclaimed, as soon as he saw that trail. Then he examined the trail very carefully. "More than one has been along here," he decided. "What is more, those Otters are not very far ahead of me. This trail is very fresh. They're heading straight for the pond just beyond the next ridge. Otter fur brings high prices these days. If I can catch up with them, I may be able to get a skin or two."
He looked around for a stout club, and as soon as he had found one to suit him he hurried along that trail. He guessed that those Otters were not hurrying. He hoped that if he could get near enough before he was discovered, he would be able to outrun one or two of them. So he hurried on as fast as he could, taking the greatest care to make as little noise as possible.
Little Joe, Mrs. Joe and the two young Otters had almost reached the pond when Little Joe's ears caught a sound that caused him to stop and look back along their trail. He saw that man running. He recognized him instantly as one of those two-legged creatures called men, the only enemies Little Joe really feared. "We must run for our lives!" he cried and led the way, breaking the path through the snow.
Then began a race for life. Little Joe knew that if that man caught up with them, they would have no chance for their lives. He knew all about that pond just ahead. He knew that at one end there were springs and that when all the rest of the pond was covered with ice, there usually was open water above those springs. If they could reach open water they would be safe.
Such a race as that was! Though the Otters did their best, they could not travel as fast through the snow as the man. He gained on them with every step. How thankful Little Joe and Mrs. Joe were that he had no terrible gun. Had he carried a terrible gun they would have had no chance at all. But even without a terrible gun he would surely kill them all unless they could reach that open water.
Through the trees they saw the black, smooth ice of that pond just ahead of them. They bounded and plunged ahead with all their strength. Little Joe was ahead to break the way through the snow. Then came the two young Otters, and Mrs. Joe was last. That trapper was almost within striking distance as she sprang out on to the ice. Out there the Otters could travel faster than the trapper. They would make several bounds forward and then throw themselves on their stomachs and slide. It was surprising how fast they traveled over that ice. But the trapper couldn't run fast on the ice. It was too slippery. He did his best, but he fell farther and farther behind. Finally he threw his club at Mrs. Joe. It just missed her. A minute later, one after another, Little Joe and his family disappeared in the open water. They had won their race for life.