WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS.
A week or two had slipped away since Vane's eventful interview, when he
lounged upon the terrace after breakfast chatting with Carroll.
Suddenly a long, faint howl came up the valley, and was answered by
another in a deeper note. Then a confused swelling clamour, which
slightly resembled the sound of chiming bells, broke out, softened by
the distance. Carroll stopped and listened.
"What in the name of wonder is that?" he asked. "The first of it
reminded me of a coyote howling, but the rest's more like the noise the
timber wolves make in the bush at night."
"You haven't made a bad shot," Vane laughed. "It's a pack of otter
hounds hot upon the scent."
The sound ceased as suddenly as it had begun, but a few moments later
Mabel came running towards the men.
"I knew the hounds met at Patten Brig, but Jim was sure they'd go
down-stream," she cried breathlessly. "They're coming up, and I think
they're at the pool below the village. Get two poles--you'll find some
in the tool-shed--and come along at once."
She clambered into the house through a window, calling for Evelyn, and
Carroll smiled.
"We have our orders," he remarked. "I suppose we'd better go."
"It's one of the popular sports up here," said Vane. "You may as well
see it."
They set out a few minutes later, accompanied by Evelyn, while Mabel
hurried on in front and reproached them for their tardiness.
At length, after crossing several wet fields, they came into a rushy
meadow on the edge of the river, which spread out into a wide pool,
fringed with alders which had not yet lost their leaves and the barer
withes of osiers. There was a swift stream at the head of it, and a long
rippling shallow at the tail, and a very mixed company was scattered
along the bank and in the water.
A red-coated man with whip and horn stood in the tail outflow, and three
or four more with poles in their hands were spread out across the stream
behind him. These and one or two in the head stream appeared by their
dress to belong to the hunt, but the rest, among whom were a few women,
were attired in everyday garments and of different walks in life:
artisans, labourers, people of leisure, and a belated tourist or two.
Three or four big hounds were swimming aimlessly up and down the pool; a
dozen more or thereabouts trotted to and fro along the water's edge,
stopping to sniff and give tongue in an uncertain manner now and then;
but there was no sign of an otter.
Carroll looked round with a smile when his companions stopped. "There'll
be very little work done in this neighbourhood to-day," he said. "I'd no
idea there were so many folks 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
what I brought this thing for, unless it was because Mopsy sent me for
it. I'd sooner stay and watch with you. Splashing through a river after
a little beast which I don't suppose they'd let an outsider kill doesn't
interest me, and 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 look 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!" exclaimed Mabel, "you're as bad as the silly people who call
killing things cruelty. I wouldn't have thought it of you."
"I've seen him," said Vane, "drop a deer going almost as fast as a
locomotive through thick brush, with a single-shot rifle, and I believe
he once assisted in killing a panther in a thicket you couldn't see two
yards ahead in. The point is, that he meant to eat the deer, and the
panther had been taking a rancher's hogs."
"Then I'm sorry I brought him," said Mabel decidedly. "He's not a
sportsman."
"I really think there's some excuse for the more vigorous sports,"
Evelyn declared. "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 civilisation 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 moral discipline. It
can't be nice to ride at a dangerous fence, or 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 drawback is that when you've
got your fox or otter, it isn't worth anything. A good many of the folks
in the newer lands have to make something of the kind of effort you
described every day. In their case, the results are waggon-trails,
valleys cleared for orchards, new branch railroads. I suppose it's a
matter of opinion, but if I'd put in a season's risky work I'd sooner
have a piece of land to grow fruit on, or a share in a mineral
claim--you get plenty of excitement in prospecting--than a fox's tail.
But there are people in Canada who wouldn't agree with me."
He strolled along the water's edge with Evelyn, and presently looked
round.
"Mopsy's gone, and I don't see Vane," he said.
"After all, he's one of us. If you're born in the North Country, it's
hard to keep out of the river when you hear the otter hounds."
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-coloured water. Then there
was a cry, an outbreak of shouting, a confused baying, and half a dozen
hounds dashed past. Evelyn stretched out her hand.
"Look!" she said.
Carroll saw a small grey 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 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 to the water, swimming slowly here and there. Men
scrambled along the bank and while some, entering the river, reinforced
the line spread out across the head rapid, others joined the second row,
wading steadily up-stream, and splashed about as they advanced with
iron-tipped poles. Nothing rewarded their efforts; the dogs turned and
went down-stream; and then suddenly everybody ran or waded towards the
tall outflow. A clamour of shouting and baying broke out, and
floundering men and swimming dogs went down the stream together in a
confused mass. Then there was silence, and the hounds came out and
trotted to and fro along the bank, up which dripping men clambered after
them. Evelyn laughed as she pointed to Vane, who looked wetter than
most, among the leading group.
"I don't suppose he meant to go in. It's in the blood," she said.
"There's no reason why he shouldn't, if it amuses him," Carroll replied.
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 splashing 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.
"Now," he said, "I'll tell you what you are thinking--you want that poor
little beast to get away."
"I believe I do," Evelyn confessed.
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 life.
The pursuers were close behind it, the swimming dogs leading them; and
ahead lay a foaming rush of water which did not seem more 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 head up-stream. Men who came splashing close upon
their tails left the river to scramble along its edge; and then 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. The hunted creature 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 wood, and it was some time
later when they came out upon a rocky promontory dropping steeply to the
river. The hunt was now widely scattered about the reach. Men crept
along slippery ledges above the water, and moved over steeply-slanting
slopes, half hidden among the trees.
A few were in the river, and three or four of the dogs were swimming;
the rest, spread out in twos and threes, trotted to and fro among the
undergrowth, Carroll did not think they were following any scent, but a
figure creeping along the foot of the rock not far away presently seized
his attention.
"It's Mopsy," he said. "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 came running along the opposite bank and apparently
decided that she was right, for the horn was sounded and here and there
a dog broke through the underbrush; then, 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, realised what had
happened, and 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
spread-out garments swing round in an eddy. It washed in among the
willows, and he heard a faint cry.
"Somebody help me, quick; I've caught a branch."
He could not see the girl now, but an alder bough was bending sharply,
and he flung a rapid glance around him. The summit of the rock he stood
upon rose above the trees, and though he would have faced the risky fall
had there been a better landing, it seemed impossible to alight among
the stones without a broken leg. Further down-stream he might reach the
water by a reckless jump, because the promontory sloped towards it
there; but he would not be able to swim back against the current. His
position was a painful one; it looked as if there was nothing that he
could do.
Next moment men and dogs went scrambling and swimming down the rapid;
but they were in hot pursuit of the otter, which had left its
hiding-place, and it was evident that the girl had escaped their
attention. Carroll shouted savagely as his comrade appeared among the
tail of the hunt below. The others were too occupied to heed, or perhaps
concluded that he was urging them on; but Vane, who was in the water,
seemed to understand. In another few minutes 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, and while
every impulse urged him to the leap he endeavoured to keep his head.
"I can't do any good just now," he answered, knowing 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 on him in an agony of fear and anger. "You coward!" she
cried. "Will you let her drown?"
She turned and ran forward, but Carroll, dreading that she meant to
attempt the descent, seized her shoulder and held her fast. While he
grappled with her, Vane's voice rose from below, and he let his hands
drop.
"Wallace has her! There's no more danger," he said.
Evelyn suddenly recovered some degree of calm.
Standing, breathless, a pace or two apart, they saw Vane and the girl
appear from beneath the willows and wash away down-stream. The man was
swimming but he was hampered by his burden, and once he and Mabel sank
almost from sight in a whirling eddy. Carroll said nothing, but he
turned and ran along the sloping ridge, until where the fall was less
and the trees were thinner he leaped out into the air. He broke through
the alders amidst a rustle of bending boughs and disappeared; but a
moment later his head rose out of the water close beside Vane, and the
two men went down-stream with Mabel between them.
Evelyn scrambled wildly along the ridge, and when she reached the foot
of it Vane was helping Mabel up the sloping bank of gravel. The girl's
drenched garments clung about her, her wet hair was streaked across her
face; but she seemed able to stand, and she was speaking in jerky gasps.
The hunt had swept on through shoaler water, but there was a cheer from
the stragglers across the river. Evelyn clutched her sister, half
laughing, half sobbing, and incoherently upbraided her. Mabel shook
herself free, and her first remark was characteristic.
"Oh!" she said, "don't make a silly fuss." Then she tried to shake out
her dripping skirt. "I'm only wet through, Wallace, take me home."
Vane picked her up, which was what she seemed to expect, and the others
followed when he pushed through the underbush towards a neighbouring
meadow. Evelyn, however, was still a little unnerved, and when they
reached a gap in a wall she stopped, and leaning against the stones
turned to Carroll.
"I think I'm more disturbed than Mopsy is," she said. "What I felt must
be some excuse for me. I'm sorry for what I said; it was unjustifiable."
"Anyway, it was perfectly natural; but I must confess that I felt some
temptation to make a fool of myself. I might have jumped into those
alders, but it's most unlikely that I could have got out of them."
Evelyn looked at him with a faint respect. She had not troubled to point
out that he had not flinched from the leap, when it seemed likely to be
of service.
"How had you the sense to think of that?" she asked.
"I suppose it's a matter of practice," Carroll answered with amusement.
"One can't work among the ranges and rivers without learning to make the
right decision rapidly. When you don't, you get badly hurt. The thing
has to be cultivated, it's not instinctive."
Evelyn was struck by the explanation. This acquired coolness was a finer
thing, and undoubtedly more useful than hot-headed gallantry, though she
admired the latter.
"Wallace was splendid in the water," she broke out, uttering part of her
thoughts aloud.
"I thought rather more of him in the city," Carroll replied. "That kind
of thing was new to him, and I'm inclined to believe I'd have let the
folks he had to negotiate with have the mine for a good deal less than
what he eventually got for it. But I've said something about that
before, and after all I'm not here to play Boswell."
The girl was surprised at the apt allusion; it was not what she would
have expected from the man. Since she had not recovered her composure,
she forgot what Vane had told her about him, and her comment was an
incautious one. "How did you hear of him?"
Carroll parried this with a smile.
"Oh!" he said, "you don't suppose you can keep those old fellows to
yourselves--they're international. But hadn't we better be getting on?
Let me help you through the gap."
They reached the Dene some time later, and Mabel, very much against her
wishes, was sent to bed, while shortly afterwards Carroll came across
Vane, who had changed his clothes, strolling up and down among the
shrubberies.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Vane looked embarrassed. "For one thing, I'm keeping out of Mrs.
Chisholm's way; she's inclined to be effusive. For another, I'm trying
to decide what I ought to do. We'll have to pull out very shortly, and I
had meant to have had an interview with Evelyn to-day. That's why I feel
uncommonly annoyed with Mopsy for falling in."
Carroll made a grimace. "If that's how it strikes you, any advice I
could offer would be wasted. A sensible man would consider it a
promising opportunity."
"And trade upon it."
"Do you really want the girl?"
"That impression's firmly in my mind," said Vane, curtly.
"Then you had better pitch your quixotic notions overboard, and tell her
so."
Vane made no answer, and Carroll, seeing that his comrade was not
inclined to be communicative, left him.