Vane of the Timberlands Part 20

"It strikes me there'll be very little work done in this neighborhood to-day," he remarked. "I'd no idea there were so many people in the valley with time to spare. The only thing that's missing is the beast they're after."

"An otter is an almost invisible creature," Evelyn explained. "You very seldom see one, unless it's hard pressed by the dogs. There are a good many in the river, but even the trout fishers, who are about at sunrise in the hot weather and wade in the dusk, rarely come across them. Are you going to take a share in the hunt?"

"No," replied Carroll, glancing humorously at his pole. "I don't know why I brought this thing, unless it was because Mopsy sent me for it.

I'd rather stay and watch with you. Splas.h.i.+ng through a river after a little beast that I don't suppose they'd let an outsider kill doesn't interest me. I don't see why I should want to kill it, anyway. Some of you English people have sporting ideas I can't understand. I struck a young man the other day--a well-educated man by the looks of him--who was spending the afternoon happily with a ferret by a corn stack, killing rats with a club. He seemed uncommonly pleased with himself because he'd got four of them."

"Oh," chided Mabel, "you're as bad as the silly people who call killing things cruel! I wouldn't have thought it of you!"

Vane laughed.

"I've seen him drop a deer with a single-shot rifle when it was going through thick brush almost as fast as a locomotive; and I believe that he once a.s.sisted in killing a panther in a thicket where you couldn't see two yards ahead. The point is that he meant to eat the deer--and the panther had been taking a rancher's hogs."

"I'm sorry I brought him," Mabel pouted. "He's not a sportsman."

"I really think there's some excuse for the more vigorous sports," Evelyn maintained. "Of course, you can't eliminate a certain amount of cruelty; but, admitting that, isn't it just as well that men who live in a luxurious civilization should be willing to plod through miles of heather after grouse, risk their limbs on horseback, or spend hours in cold water? These are bracing things; they imply some moral discipline. It really can't be nice to ride at a dangerous fence, or to flounder down a rapid after an otter when you're stiff with cold. The effort to do so must be wholesome."

"A sure thing," Carroll agreed. "The only trouble is that when you've got your fox or otter, it isn't worth anything. A good many of the people in the newer lands, every day, have to make something of the kind of effort you describe. In their case, the results are wagon trails, valleys cleared for orchards, or new branch railroads. I suppose it's a matter of opinion, but if I'd put in a season's risky work, I'd rather have a piece of land to grow fruit on or a share in a mineral claim--you get plenty of excitement in prospecting for that--than a fox's tail."

He strolled along the bank with Evelyn, following the hunt up-stream.

Suddenly he looked around.

"Mopsy's gone; and I don't see Vane."

"After all, he's one of us," Evelyn laughed. "If you're born in the North Country, it's hard to keep out of the river when you hear the otter hounds."

"But Mopsy's not going in!"

"I'm afraid I can't answer for her."

They took up their station behind a growth of alders, and for a while the dogs went trotting by in twos and threes or swam about the pool, but nothing else broke the surface of the leaden-colored water. Then there was a cry, an outbreak of shouting, a confused baying, and half a dozen hounds dashed past. More followed, heading up-stream along the bank, with a tiny brown terrier panting behind them. Evelyn stretched out her hand.

"Look!"

Carroll saw a small gray spot--the top of the otter's head--moving across the slacker part of the pool, with a very slight, wedge-shaped ripple trailing away from it. It sank the next moment; a bubble or two rose; and then there was nothing but the smooth flow of water.

A horn called shrilly; a few whip-cracks rang out like pistol-shots; and the dogs took the water, swimming slowly here and there. Men scrambled along the bank. Some, entering the river, reinforced the line spread out across the head rapid while others joined the second row wading steadily up-stream and splas.h.i.+ng about as they advanced with iron-tipped poles.

Nothing rewarded their efforts. The dogs suddenly turned and went down-stream; and then everybody ran or waded toward the tail outflow. A clamor of shouting and baying broke out; and floundering men and swimming dogs went down the stream together in a confused ma.s.s. There was a brief silence. The hounds came out and trotted to and fro along the bank; and dripping men clambered after them.

Evelyn laughed as she pointed to Vane among the leading group. He looked even wetter than the others.

"I don't suppose he meant to go in. It's in the blood."

"There's no reason why he shouldn't, if it amuses him," Carroll replied.

"When I first met him, he'd have been more careful of his clothes."

A little later the dogs were driven in again, and this time the whole of the otter's head was visible as it swam up-stream. The animal was flagging, and on reaching shoaler water it sprang out altogether now and then, rising and falling in the stronger stream with a curious serpentine motion. In fact, as head and body bent in the same sinuous curves, it looked less like an animal than a plunging fish. The men guarding the rapid stood ready with their poles, and more were wading and splas.h.i.+ng up both sides of the pool. The otter's pace was getting slower; sometimes it seemed to stop; and now and then it vanished among the ripples. Carroll saw that Evelyn's face was intent, though there were signs of shrinking in it.

"I'll tell you what you are thinking," he said. "You want that poor little beast to get away."

"I believe I do," Evelyn confessed. "And you?"

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a sportsman, in this sense."

They watched with strained attention. The girl could not help it, though she dreaded the climax. Her sympathies were now with the hard-pressed, exhausted creature that was making a desperate fight for its life. The pursuers were close upon it, the swimming dogs leading them; and ahead lay a foaming rush of water which seemed less than a foot deep, with men spread out across it. The shouting from the bank had ceased, and everybody waited in tense expectancy when the otter disappeared. The dogs reached the rapid, where they were washed back a few yards before they could make headway up-stream. Men who came splas.h.i.+ng close upon them left the water to scramble along the bank; and then they stopped abruptly, while the dogs swam in an uncertain manner about the still reach beyond.

They came out in a few minutes and scampered up and down among the stones, evidently at fault, for there was no sign of the otter anywhere.

Incredible as it seemed, the hunted creature, an animal that would probably weigh about twenty-four pounds, had crept up the rush of water among the feet of those who watched for it and vanished unseen into the sheltering depths beyond.

Evelyn sighed with relief.

"I think it will escape," she said. "The river's rather full after the rain, which is against the dogs, and there isn't another shallow for some distance. Shall we go on?"

They strolled forward behind the dogs, which were again moving up-stream; but they turned aside to avoid a bit of woods, and it was some time later when they came out upon a rocky promontory dropping steeply to the river.

Just there, the water flowed through a deep gorge, down the sides of which great oaks and ashes straggled. In front of Carroll and his companion a ragged face of rock fell about twenty feet; but there was a little soil among the stones below, and a dense growth of alders interspersed with willows, fringed the water's edge. The stream swirled in deep black eddies beneath their drooping branches, though a little farther on it poured tumultuously between scattered boulders into the slacker pool. The rock sloped on one side, and there was a bank of underbrush near the foot of the descent.

The hunt was now widely scattered about the reach. Men crept along slippery ledges above the water and moved over dangerously slanting slopes, half hidden among the trees; a few were in the river. Three or four of the dogs were swimming; the others, spread out in twos and threes, trotted in and out among the undergrowth.

Presently, a figure creeping along the foot of the rock not far away seized Carroll's attention.

"It's Mopsy!" he exclaimed. "The foothold doesn't look very safe among those stones, and there seems to be deep water below."

He called out in warning, but the girl did not heed. The willows were thinner at the spot she had reached, and, squeezing herself through them, she leaned down, clinging to an alder branch.

"He's gone to holt among the roots!" she cried.

Three or four men running along the opposite bank apparently decided that she was right, for the horn was sounded and here and there a dog broke through the underbrush. Just as the first-comers reached the rapid, there was a splash. It was a moment or two before Evelyn or Carroll, who had been watching the dogs, realized what had happened; then the blood ebbed from the girl's face. Mabel had disappeared.

Running a few paces forward, Carroll saw what looked like a bundle of outspread garments swing round in an eddy. It washed in among the willows, and he heard a faint cry.

"Help!--Quick! I've caught a branch!"

He could not see the girl now, but an alder branch was bending sharply, and he flung a rapid glance around him. The summit of the rock on which he stood rose above the trees. Had there been a better landing, he would have faced the risky fall, but it seemed impossible to alight among the stones without a broken leg. Even if he came down uninjured, there was a barrier of tangled branches and densely growing withes between him and the river, and the opening through which Mabel had fallen was some distance away. Farther down-stream, he might reach the water by a reckless jump, as the promontory sloped toward it there, but he would not be able to swim back against the current. His position was a painful one; there was nothing that he could do.

The next moment, men and dogs went scrambling and swimming down the rapid. They were in hot pursuit of the otter, which had left its hiding place, and it was evident that the girl, clinging to a branch beneath the willows, had escaped their attention. Carroll shouted savagely as his comrade appeared among the tail of the hunt below. The others were too much occupied to heed; or perhaps they concluded that he was urging them on.

"Help! Mabel!" Carroll shouted again and again, gesticulating wildly in his desperation.

Vane, waist-deep in the water, seemed to catch the girl's name and understand. In a few moments he was swimming down the pool along the edge of the alders. Then Carroll saw that Evelyn expected him to take some part in the rescue.

"Get down before it's too late!" she cried.

Carroll spread out his hands, as if to beg her forbearance. While every impulse urged him to the leap, he endeavored to keep his head. He fancied that he would be wanted later, and it was obvious that he would not be available if he lay upon the rocks below with broken bones.

"I can't do any good just now," he tried to explain, knowing that he was right and yet feeling horribly ashamed. "She's holding on, and Wallace will reach her in a moment or two."

Evelyn broke out at him in an agony of fear and anger.

"You coward! Will you let her drown?"