It seemed to Shaggycoat that his stronghold toward which he was retreating, fighting off his heavy foe so valiantly, was miles away, but at last, to his great joy, it was reached, and there, at the upper end of the lake was Brighteyes, licking at the maple stump that he had girdled that morning. Like a faithful helpmate she flew to his relief, and the otter, seeing that he had two beavers to fight instead of one, gave up the chase and swam away.
It is doubtful if he would have fought a female beaver, for there is a certain chivalry shown the sex, even in the woods.
The next otter that Shaggycoat saw was much smaller than his enemy and he at once concluded that it was a female, which proved to be the case. She was lying upon a rock in mid-stream, watching the water closely. Her intense manner at once attracted the beaver's attention, so he kept quiet and watched just to find out what she was doing.
Presently she sprang from the rock like a flash and swam down-stream with a rapidity that fairly took Shaggycoat's breath away, good swimmer that he was. But he was still more astonished, when a second later she struck out for the shore bearing a large fish in her jaws. The fish was giving a few last feeble flops with its tail.
What she wanted with the nasty fish, Shaggycoat could not imagine, so he kept still and watched. She lay down upon the sand, and holding the fish down with one paw, began tearing it to pieces and eating it. She had not been long at work when Shaggycoat noticed two otter pups, that had previously escaped his attention, playing in the sand near the old otter. They were as playful as kittens and were rolling and tumbling about having a merry time. When the old otter had finished her fish, she called the youngsters to her, and lying down upon the sand, gave them their own supper, which was neither flesh nor fish.
When they were satisfied, she tried to coax them into the water. She would plunge in herself, and then face about and stand pleading with them, but they were afraid and would not venture in. Finally, one a little bolder than the other, came to the water's edge, and dipped his paw in it, but evidently did not like it, for he went back on the bank. Then the old otter resorted to a strange stratagem, and got her way as mothers will.
She lay down upon the sand and romped and rolled with her pups, tumbling them over and over. Finally at the height of the play, they were coaxed upon her back, when she slipped quickly into the stream, where she tumbled them off, and left them kicking and sputtering. A moment later they scrambled out looking like drowned rats. But the lesson that she had sought to teach them had been learned. They had discovered that the water did them no harm and before the shades of night had fallen and the stars appeared, they were playing in the stream of their own accord.
All this amused Shaggycoat so much that he forgot to be angry with the old otter, and finally went away to look for his own supper of poplar bark.
Later in the summer, he did really meet his enemy face to face, but under such strange conditions that the beaver never forgot the incident.
He was swimming rapidly down-stream on the return trip to Brighteyes and his own forest lake. There were other lakes in the wilderness that he visited each summer during his long rambles but none quite like his, so he was hastening in the autumn twilight, for he knew that in two or three days he would again be at home.