Little Joe swam with the trout straight over to where the two little Otters were waiting on a big flat stone at the edge of the water, fairly dancing with excitement. Just before he reached them, Little Joe dropped that fish. It could still swim, though not very fast.
Splash! The two young Otters were in the water after it, each eager to be the one to catch it. They were clumsy and overeager, and you know overeagerness often is quite as bad as being too slow. Each got in the way of the other. The fish twisted and turned and they tried to follow. At last, one of them made a lucky dash and proudly turned towards the bank with the fish in his mouth. Very proud he looked. The other swam after and tried to take the fish away from him. It looked very much as if there might be a fight right there in that little pool in the Laughing Brook. But just then Mrs. Joe interfered. She swam in between the two and pushed the unsuccessful one away. He went off by himself and sulked while the other dragged his prize out on a rock and began to eat.
A few minutes later Mrs. Joe caught another trout and this she carried to the little Otter who had none. When she let the fish go, it could swim only a little and so the young Otter had no trouble in catching it. Farmer Brown’s boy wondered if it was just chance that those fish were alive, or if they had been kept so purposely to give the young Otters a lesson in fishing. I wonder too. Don’t you?
CHAPTER X
A YOUNG FISHERMAN IS CAUGHT
The heedless young who disobey
Will for their folly have to pay.
Little Joe Otter.
Farmer Brown’s boy watched the family fishing party until it moved on to the next pool. Then he remembered his own fishing and the fat trout he had promised to bring back for supper that night.
“Now I understand why I haven’t had a bite,” he chuckled. “Little Joe Otter and his family got started earlier than I did. They are welcome to all they have caught, for the fun of seeing those young Otters get their first fishing lesson is worth more to me than any fish could be. But I can’t allow them to get all the fish. I could frighten them away, but I don’t want to do that. No, Sir, I don’t want to make them afraid of me. I know what I’ll do; I’ll circle around through the woods and get ahead of them.”
So Farmer Brown’s boy tramped around through the Green Forest until he reached the Laughing Brook again at a point where he felt sure of being ahead of the Otter fishing party. In a minute there was a sharp tug at his line and presently he pulled out a silvery, speckled trout. Then Farmer Brown’s boy forgot all about everything but fishing.