Going to the shore, we saw that the bank shelved off abruptly into deep water; and in one place it was worn smooth, and was icy, as if some animal had been sliding from it down into the pond. Other than this there were no traces.
So, first cutting a couple of stout clubs, we went to the pine stump, where we had seen what we had taken for a fisher. He was gone; but we discovered a hole in the top of the stump, that went down under the ground, and looking into it saw a broad, black muzzle, and a pair of wicked little eyes gleaming up at us.
"Hollo!" cried Rod, "here he is;" thrusting in his stick. The head vanished.
"But that's no fisher; their noses do not look like that. It was too big and blunt. I'll tell you what," exclaimed he suddenly; "it's an otter! That was one out in the pond, too. Did you ever see one?"
"No."
"Nor I; but I've heard old Hughy Olives tell about them; and that's just what this is."
"What about them? Will they fight much?"
"Fight when cornered, Hughy says, like young tigers, too. Dogs are no match for them. But their fur's valuable."
"That's so. We must get this one if we can."
"There may be more than one. They live two and three together, sometimes, Hughy said, in burrows, opening under water. This couldn't be the one that stole our fish, either. It might have been though; for this hole probably leads out into the water, under the bank. Let's see if it doesn't."