Another solution occurred to him. It was by no means improbable that the creature was laid up in the plantation; for not only does human foot seldom disturb the sylvan quiet there, but in an angle of the stream, just below the waterfall, under a tall elm there is as inviting a hover as nature’s sappers can tempt the eye of otter with.
Floods have bared the gnarled and twisted roots and hollowed out the ground behind them, so that the backwater on the edge of the swirling stream extends far under the bank, and is lost in the gloom it casts. It was almost by chance that he discovered, a few days before the meet, traces of the otter, that left no doubt as to its line of retreat. He was standing in the plantation at the time, aglow with excitement from having seen the fresh seal of an otter a little way above in Lezingey Croft, and debating with himself whether he should again follow the stream to the sea, when his eye fell on some moist marks that were fast drying and only visible in a certain light, on a flat rock half hidden by creepers. Faintest indication though it was, it furnished a clue to the line taken by an otter, and though there was no trace of footprints in the gap in the boundary wall above, the Earthstopper felt sure that the poacher had within the hour passed up the hill on its way to the Newlyn stream which flows down the adjacent valley.
Thither he went at once, and after a long, fruitless search began to think, though against his better judgment, that the otter, if it had reached that stream, must have gone up the water towards Buryas and not down towards the sea.
Fortunately he persevered, and there just below a sudden bend, on a deposit of silt, was the cleanly-cut footprint, showing the defect he had first noticed under the bushes at the head of the lake. Before him was convincing evidence of the difficulty of tracking the creature he was pitting his brains against, for its path on leaving the shelter of an overgrown ditch lay among some wild iris whose leaves met above, screening all the footprints but the solitary one on the mud. This would have been washed out had the mills up the valley been thus early at work, and even as it was, a tiny wave from time to time lapped the silt as if striving to erase the tell-tale print. Holding back the flags to get a clear view, the Earthstopper gazed long at the beaten path, heedless of the brambles that tore his fingers, or of the stream that swirled around his feet.
“The auld game es et, Maister Sloper? laast night a robbin’ the trout, thes mornin’ curled up saafe and sound in the cleeves of the rocks. Ah, you rascal, ef et keeps me up all night, I’ll be even wyee yit.”
On his way home Andrew called at the Castle to report to Sir Bevil what he had seen, and to tell him what he had made up his mind to do, namely, to try and prevent the otter returning to the cliffs.
“I leave the matter in your hands, Andrew,” said the Squire, “my only fear is that if it comes up, and the chances are that it won’t, it may wind you in your hiding-place and be scared back. However, you know best about that. You won’t go over the ground again, I suppose?”
“No, sir, I shudden wonder ef I’ve bin wance too often as et es; but I couldn’t keep away.”
“Is it the seal of a good otter?”
“The biggest I ever seed.”