"Lord, yes," said Hugh. "There are a few otter, lots of mink, and a few marten high up in the hills; once in a while a wolverine, and once in a while a fisher; but none of this fur, except the otter, will be good in summer, and otters are so scarce that they are not worth bothering with."
"I should not have supposed there would be any otter here, because the streams are so small."
"There are not very many," said Hugh, "but yet more than you think. You see there are worlds of fish in many of these mountain streams, and where there are fish you are pretty sure to find otter. In some of the lakes high up in the mountains I have seen lots of otters, but as I say, there aren't enough to try to trap."
"What is the fisher, Hugh?" asked Jack. "I have heard of that animal, but I don't very well know what it is. Is that the same creature that the books speak of as the black cat?"
"I reckon it is," replied Hugh. "I have heard some trappers call them by that name. Really, it always seemed to me like a big marten, and why people called it fisher, I don't know. I never saw one near water, and I don't believe they catch fish. They are great things to climb round in the trees, and they are quicker in them than any squirrel you ever saw. I have seen them chasing martens and I believe that they eat them. I know they eat porcupines, for though I never saw one kill a porcupine, I have seen them with porcupine quills in their faces and in their forelegs, but bless you, the quills didn't seem to bother them a mite. You take a dog or a cat that had as many quills in it as I have seen in some fishers, and it would be all swelled up and not able to see out of its eyes, nor to walk; but I have seen fishers stuck full of quills and I never saw one swelled up or apparently hurt at all. They don't seem to get inflamed by the quills the way a dog or a cat does."
"I suppose, Hugh, there is no great chance of our being able to shoot any of these animals while we are hunting?"
"No," replied Hugh, "I don't think there is. Of course, you never can tell what you might run across when you are going through the timber or up over the rocks on the mountains, but as a rule these animals will see, or hear, or smell you before you know they are around, and they'll just slip out of sight, and either get away as fast as they can, or else watch you to see what you are going to do. I remember that the only wolverine I have killed in a good many years was one that I saw traveling along over the rocks when I was up above timber-line one time waiting to try to kill a sheep. He just walked up within easy shot, and, of course, I killed him. A mighty pretty looking animal he was, too, with his smooth coat all shining in the sun and blowing in the breeze.
"But, look here, son, if you and I are going to get off in any sort of season to-morrow morning we'd better turn in now. Suppose you go down to the creek and get a bucket of water, and I'll go out and look around through the horses, and then we'll make down our beds."
"All right," said Jack, and he did as requested, and a little later the camp was peacefully sleeping, as the fire died down.