which had never passed his lips before. It made the marshman jump: it sent a thrill through the cordon of spectators: it made the child hurry again to the furze-rick.
'Did you see him ?' asked the squire excitedly.
'I did, and I don't wonder it fetched such a screech out of 'ee. Lor, maister, 'twere enow to wake the dead.'
Two minutes later the otter was 'gazed' by the men on the point. Soon after a shout came from Geordie at the end of the creek,—so soon that the squire feared there must be two otters afloat. But he was wrong: there was only one. Next the people on the bar saw him rise, with the hounds close behind driving him towards the reed-bed, where he landed within a dozen yards of the solitary figure there. To him it looked as if the otter must be overhauled, and eagerly he watched the swaying of the reeds as otter and hounds traversed the bed. Soon, in view of the excited crowd near the inflow, the hunted beast managed to slip into the mere as a hound was about to seize him. Four times he rose in crossing to the farther shore, where he threaded the sags and, in his desperation, sought the refuge of the furze-brake. The cover was all in his favour; for he could run where the hounds, and even the
