THE YOUNG OTTER LEARNS WHERE HIS FISH WENT
Each bit of knowledge you attain
Will prove an aid to future gain.
_Little Joe Otter._
The young Otter had told his father, Little Joe Otter, the story of how
his fish had mysteriously disappeared. You should have seen the twinkle
in Little Joe’s eyes as he listened.
“Would you really like to know what became of your fish?” Little Joe
asked.
“Of course I would,” replied the young Otter. “But I don’t believe
anybody will ever find out.”
“Don’t you think I could find out if I went over there?” asked Little
Joe.
The young Otter shook his head very decidedly. “No, I don’t,” said he
very honestly.
“All right, son, let’s go fishing,” replied Little Joe Otter, his eyes
twinkling more than ever.
So together they went fishing, and presently each caught a fish. “You
take yours over to the bank, but don’t stop to eat it. Keep your eyes on
this fish of mine,” said Little Joe.
The young Otter obediently took his fish over to the bank and then sat
down to watch. Little Joe Otter climbed out on the ice at the place
where the young Otter had twice lost his fish. He laid the fish down on
the ice, then plunged into the water and swam over to where the young
Otter was. Before he got there, the young Otter saw a great,
broad-winged, white bird appear as if from nowhere, without stopping in
his flight, pick up that fish on the ice and fly away a short distance.
Then this great bird alighted on the ice and suddenly didn’t look like a
bird at all. He looked like just a little heap of snow. He looked
exactly like the heap of snow that the young Otter had seen over there
several times before.
You should have seen the eyes of that young Otter pop out of his head.
He was so surprised that for a full minute he couldn’t find his tongue.
Little Joe Otter’s eyes twinkled more than ever. “Well, son,” said he,
“what did you see?”
“I saw your fish disappear,” gasped the young Otter. “Now I know where
my fish went to. Do you see that little white heap over there that looks
like snow?”
Little Joe Otter laughed right out. “Certainly I see it,” said he. “I
saw it as soon as we came over here. I saw it and I knew what it was.
That is Whitey the Snowy Owl, who has come down from the Far North. He
is very fond of fish. I guessed right away who had stolen your fish. Now
we’ll go over and see what he has to say about it.”
So together they swam over and climbed out on the ice. Then they made
right straight for Whitey. He turned his head, and the young Otter saw
as fierce a pair of eyes as he had ever looked into. They were round and
yellow. Whitey snapped and hissed. Then he turned so as to face them. He
still clutched the fish in his claws. Little Joe Otter snarled and
bounded towards him. Whitey hesitated only a second, then spread his
broad wings and silently flew away, taking the fish with him. Little Joe
was too big for him to fight with.
So it was the Young Otter made the acquaintance of Whitey the Snowy Owl,
and learned that there is always an explanation for a mystery.
Enough is enough and I am sure you have heard enough of Little Joe Otter
and his family. I could tell you much more, but it wouldn’t be fair to
some other little people in the Smiling Pool. And so the next book in
the Smiling Pool series is to be about one whom you all know and, if you
are like me, are fond of. It will be called Jerry Muskrat at Home.
The End
[Illustration]
TRANSCRIBER NOTES
Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple
spellings occur, majority use has been employed.
Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors
occur.