The book of the otter

CHAPTER III

Chapter 37,187 wordsPublic domain

OTTER-HUNTING, PAST AND PRESENT

It was not until a comparatively recent date, that the otter became an accredited beast of chase. He was hunted, after a fashion, from the very earliest times, but the value of his skin--like that of the fox--had more to do with his capture than the sport he afforded.

King John of England appears to be the first Master of Otterhounds of whom there is any record, and Twici seems to have been the first huntsman. In "The Master of Game," written between the years 1406 and 1413, there is a chapter on "The Otter and his Nature," illustrated by a reproduction of an old illumination entitled "Otter Hunting." This picture represents a hound--apparently smooth-coated--swimming an otter in a river. On the farther bank are two hounds, and two men. One of the latter is transfixing the otter as it swims with a long-handled, three-pronged spear. The other man is apparently about to throw a similar kind of spear at the otter, while holding in his left hand a second spear with the ordinary type of single-bladed head. On the near bank are two more men, and two hounds. One of the latter appears to be rough-coated, or at any rate broken-haired, the other being a large, white, smooth-coated animal. This hound is evidently a limer, as it is held in leash by one of the men. The other man, armed with a single-bladed spear, is stabbing the otter in the hindquarters.

It is apparent that in those early days the chief use of the hounds was in finding the otter, and once the latter was put down, the spears were brought into play. In the chapter on the otter, it says: "Men hunt at them with hounds by great mastery," and "men take them at other times in rivers with small cords as men do the fox with nets and with other gins."

Thus we see plainly that the otter was little thought of in those days, except for the value afforded by his skin. In early times a lime-hound, i.e., a hound held in leash, was used for harbouring deer and other game. Such a hound was keen and staunch, not too fast, and was taught to run mute, in order not to disturb the game whose exact whereabouts his master wished to discover. The rope by which the hound was led was known as a liam, being made of leather or silk. Both collar and lead were often gaily coloured, and adorned with silver.

The method of conducting the chase when hunting at an otter "with hounds by great mastery" was no doubt similar in some respects to that practised at present. Instead, however, of hunting the drag with the pack, lime-hounds were used to locate the quarry, the latter being then bolted by terriers. In the prologue to "The Master of Game," it says with regard to dogs: "And first I will begin with raches (running hounds) and their nature, and then greyhounds and their nature, and then alaunts and their nature, and then spaniels and their nature, and then mastiffs that men call curs and their nature, and then of small curs that come to be terriers and their nature." What these terriers were like compared to the present-day breeds, it is difficult to say, but no doubt they were hard-bitten animals, well able to bolt otters or foxes.

Having bolted the otter, probably several hounds were then uncoupled, which kept the quarry on the move, so that the men got plenty of chances to use their spears. The otter was allowed no law as is now the custom, but was transfixed at the first opportunity. The spears were evidently thrown at the otter, as well as used to transfix him on the shallows.

At a later date, in Somervile's days (1735) the spear was in general use, and it is mentioned as late as 1878 in the "Manual of British Rural Sports" by Stonehenge. Turning to the "Otter Hunting Diary" of the late Mr James Lomax, of Clayton Hall, which dates from 1829 to 1871, we find no mention of the spear. In "Field and Fern" (South), by H. H. Dixon, published in 1865, there is an account of Dr Grant, of Hawick, and his otterhounds, without, however, any reference to spears. Although the employment of the spear, or "otter-grains" as it was sometimes called, was no doubt almost universally discontinued fairly early in the last century, it was probably used till a later date by individuals who kept a hound or two, and pursued otter, fox, and foumart after the manner of the Scotch "tod-hunter" with his scratch pack. Nets were sometimes used in conjunction with spears to keep an otter from reaching tidal waters.

To-day, however, all such abominations have been done away with, and now it is left for hounds to hunt and kill their otter, if they can, unaided. Until a few years ago, it was customary to meet quite early in the morning, often soon after daybreak. Nowadays, however, people are less energetic, and it is nothing unusual to read of fixtures as late as ten a.m. Although from a social or "love and lunch" point of view, late meets are no doubt convenient, the same can hardly be said as regards hunting. Some Masters of Otterhounds are averse to early meets because they say that the drag is then often so strong that hounds are very apt to pass over their otter. By getting to the water later the drag has lost some of its strength, and hounds are then brought to their noses, and travel slower, thus being less inclined to pass their otter in its holt. Really the time of meeting should depend upon the character of the water you intend to hunt. On a river flowing through marsh or water meadows, where the long grass and rushes are always more or less damp and the ground beneath them shaded from the sun, scent will lie for hours, and there is no necessity to make a very early start. In the North, however, where the streams are swift and rocky, and have their sources far up the hill-sides, there is often little shade, except beside some covert, or in some ghyll or ravine to which the sun's rays seldom penetrate. Meeting at ten o'clock on such water, there is little chance of a good drag, and it may mean hard work for both men and hounds before they find, and eventually put their otter down.

Many an instance comes to mind, when if hounds had been put to water three or four hours earlier, they would have had a hot cross-country drag, and probably a fine swimming hunt at the end of it. We have known hounds meet at nine o'clock at the foot of a Lakeland beck, and travel several miles up-stream without a whimper. On nearing the source, they spoke to a drag in the depths of a shady ghyll, and carried it at a fast pace out on to the open fell. There the sun was beating down with tremendous power, and under its influence the drag died out. Hounds were on the line of a travelling otter, and had they hit off the drag in the ghyll at five or six o'clock instead of nine, they could easily have carried it over the watershed, and down a runner which enters a tarn in the next valley. A good hunt was thus spoilt, simply because of a late start.

An advantage of meeting early lies in the fact that you perhaps find and kill your otter before the real heat of the day begins, thus making things easier for both hounds and field. It is impossible to lay down any hard and fast rule as regards the time of meeting, for as already mentioned, this will be influenced by the character of the water you are going to hunt, and, if you are dependent on subscriptions, the keenness or otherwise of your subscribers.

In the case of making a start with a newly organised pack, containing a good proportion of unentered hounds, it is advisable to get out early in the morning until such time as your hounds begin to understand their job and take an interest in the business. Scent lies stronger both on land and water during the early hours, and if your few entered hounds find and mark their otter, the unentered ones have a better chance when their quarry is eventually put down.

To a lover of hound work, the drag left by an otter during his nightly wanderings, provides as much of interest when hounds can own it, as the actual hunting after the otter is afloat. With entered hounds which try the banks carefully it is possible to find an otter without touching a drag at all. This frequently happens after a late meet, when the huntsman is a real trier, and can depend on his hounds. Still, we imagine that the majority of keen otter-hunters enjoy watching the pack at work on a drag, and the music seems a fitting prelude to the chorus that arises when finally hounds mark and acknowledge in no uncertain tones that their quarry is "at home."

Under favourable conditions the scent of an otter will lie for a very long time. In the shade, amidst tall herbage, or among the water lilies, hounds can speak to it hours after their otter has gone, and it is sometimes difficult to know whether they are the right way or running heel. Then is the time to look for the seal of your otter in the sand, mud, or other soft places, and note whether the footprints point up-stream or down. Half the pleasure of otter-hunting is to see hounds draw, that is if they draw well, trying every root as they go, or swimming out to some stone in midstream on which perhaps there is a piece of wedging. Here a hound will try a patch of water lilies, there another will investigate a stick-heap, until at last there is a welcome note from Thunder, Sailor, or some other member of the pack, which denotes that a drag has at last been found. Gradually they work it out, fast or slow according to its strength, until at last they mark at a tree-root on the bank. If you know your hounds you can tell pretty well whether your otter is there, or has merely run through the place and gone on. One or two of your most trusted favourites perhaps show an inclination to push forward up-stream, so you go ahead, taking plenty of time at all the likely holts. Suddenly old Warrior's head goes up, he winds the air for a second or two, then goes straight across the river, and his well-known voice rings out as he proclaims that his otter is this time in the holt in front of him. The others surge over, splashing the water as they go, and a wild chorus awakens the echoes as hounds mark solidly, some of them tearing at the bank in their eagerness to have their quarry "out of that." There is no doubt he is at home, but if there was, you need only watch old Boatman swimming round and round beneath the holt in an endeavour to take the scent or "wash," to convince you that hounds are right.

The great advantage of meeting early lies in the fact that if there is an otter or otters working the water that you propose to hunt, you are practically sure of finding a drag, which at that time of day will lie strongly. As already mentioned, otters lie rough, as well as in holts, and may be found almost anywhere, often far from the main river. Here is where you benefit by a warm trail, for there will be no doubt as to the point at which your quarry left the main river, and took to a side-runner, or out across country to some pond or other favourite feeding ground. Supposing, however, that your otter has left a drag on the banks of the main river, which leads hounds steadily up-stream. If the drag is hot, the pack will run it at speed, until they finally mark their otter in his holt, or the trail suddenly comes to an end, and hounds are at a loss. In this case your otter may have gone on some distance in the water, the latter having carried all scent away, and then landed at some holt farther up. He may, too, have crossed the stream--perhaps in deep water--and retired to a holt on the opposite bank. Again, he may have dropped down with the current to his original starting point, leaving no trace behind him. If the river is narrow, he may, of course, have crossed and re-crossed it in his journey up-stream, the same applying in a lesser degree, to a wide river. If possible, it is wise therefore to have a number of hounds on each bank, instead of, as some huntsmen do, crossing with the pack at shallows or other spots where the stream can be forded.

By keeping hounds on the one bank and crossing here and there, much water and many a likely holt is passed over. Harking back, however, to where hounds checked. The otter may still be in front, therefore it pays to make good the water for some little distance up-stream. If, within a reasonable distance, hounds hit off his landing place and mark him at a holt, well and good, but if there is only a "touch" here and there on which hounds feather, denoting a stale line perhaps a day or two old, it is then advisable to try back. If hounds have carried the drag at speed, they may, in their eagerness, have overrun their otter, and left him not so very far behind. When casting back therefore, go slowly, and keep some hounds if possible on both banks. Sooner or later, with anything like luck, hounds should locate their otter on one bank or the other. Just as an early start affords a hot drag, so does it help hounds to more easily wind their otter in his holt, should he have crossed and left no trace behind him in the stream. Some hounds exhibit great aptitude for winding an otter in this manner, therefore when you see a member of the pack throw up his head and begin testing the air, you can be fairly sure that your otter is not far off. If, instead of meeting early you had arrived at the water late, on the foregoing occasion, you would probably have hit off a weak or catchy drag, and have had to go slow, trying both banks carefully en route. If this happens on a stream which the Master knows well, and has often hunted before, he may simply cross and re-cross the water to the various holts from which he has put down otters on previous occasions. Should hounds refuse to mark at any of these holts, and the limit of the day's draw is reached, the result is a blank.

The same thing may happen on a river which has not been hunted for a long time. The meet is late, hounds are left to pick up a drag if they can, the field following at their leisure, and once more it is a case of "nothing doing" at the conclusion of the draw. It is when an otter has left the main river via a side-stream, or travelled a long way overland to some pond, or other retreat, that the advantage of meeting early is so conspicuous.

Late in the day the drag is very weak and catchy in the open, where the sun has dried up all moisture, and even if hounds _do_ show an inclination to turn up a runner or deviate at some point, they may not be able to carry the line far, even if encouraged to do so. If an early start is made, however, the drag is warm, and hounds can hit off the place with certainty where their otter has left the river, and what is more, they can run the line at speed, thus drawing up to their quarry's holt, or the spot where he is lying rough, without loss of time. The chief object of keeping a pack of otterhounds is to find, hunt, and if possible kill your otter in a sportsmanlike manner.

Before you can hunt him you must find him, and on nine days out of ten, this is the hardest part of the business. An otter may be anywhere, and of course it may so happen that the water within your day's draw is not being worked by otters. In this case you cannot find what is not there. A blank day then is not only excusable, but inevitable. On the other hand, if your pack is made up of entered hounds, and you know their individual idiosyncrasies, and have in addition a fair knowledge of the habits of your quarry, there should be little excuse for a blank day, provided you start early enough in the morning to afford your hounds the chance of picking up and sticking to a decent drag. The _surest_ way of finding an otter is to drag up to him, any other method, at any rate on rivers, holds an enormous element of chance. On a lake or a tarn, which you yourself _know_ is inhabited by otters, it is a different matter, for you can then throw off in the reed-beds or other undergrowth bordering the water, with a good hope of putting your otter down before hounds have been long at work.

No fixed rules are applicable to otter-hunting, or any other kind of hunting for that matter, but it is safe to say that the Master who is a trier, and keeps on trying, will be the one to bring to hand most otters. Being himself of the "never say die" order, he will inculcate the same spirit in his hounds, for a slack huntsman makes a slack pack, and vice versa.

The late Rev. Jack Russell, of Devonshire fame, walked some hundreds of miles before he found his first otter. This was owing to the fact that his hounds at the beginning were unentered to otter. When he finally got hold of an entered hound, matters took a different turn, and he showed capital sport, but his ill-success at first was certainly not for want of trying.

When hunting a river, particularly in a hilly district, a sudden flood may put a stop to sport. When the weather is unsettled it is wise, therefore, to allow for such a contingency, and be prepared to arrange matters so that a smaller stream or lake can be substituted.

A frequent reason for blank days lies in having too wide a district to hunt. This means that certain streams are visited but once a season, and a single day on each is not sufficient to insure sport. A certain river is perhaps visited to-day, and hounds hit off a drag and carry it up-stream a long way, until the hour is late, and their otter still unfound. The next fixture is probably in another county, whereas if hounds were put to water on the following morning at the place where they left off, a hunt would be practically a certainty. Again, if a brace of otters are put down, and one of them is hunted and eventually killed, a visit to the same water on the following day would result in the survivor providing some pretty work for hounds. There is hardly an Otter Hunt in the kingdom but what attempts to cover more water in a season than it can properly manage. The chances of continuous good sport are on this account exceedingly doubtful, for unless rivers are frequently visited, and a fair percentage of otters are killed, riparian owners, keepers, and others will refuse to protect otters, and instead, go in for the killing business themselves. Hunting is in this country dependent upon the goodwill of landowners and tenants, who are as a rule only too pleased to welcome hounds. If, however, the Hunt does not properly reduce the stock of foxes or otters, other methods are then resorted to. The more otters or foxes you kill in your district, the more you will have, for directly people realise that you and your hounds mean business and are "out for blood," they will leave it to you to do the killing, and confine their attentions to preserving your quarry. A small district, regularly hunted, will provide much better sport than a large one casually attended to. The fixture card of the average Otter Hunt should show "Where leave off" much oftener than it does at present. In a small district a Hunt is much less dependent on trains for moving hounds from place to place, and there is far more opportunity to "lie out" overnight at some farm or other homestead, and thus continue hunting at the same place on the following day.

Harking back to the river, a great many people imagine that when hounds hit off a line away from the water, and go full cry through a wood, across open country, or up some tiny streamlet, that they are running riot. That hounds occasionally run riot, more especially the young entry, we do not for a moment deny, but when a pack of entered hounds performs in the above manner, they are not rioting, but running the line of a travelling otter. The huntsman then, instead of blowing his horn while the whippers-in rate and attempt to stop hounds, should put his best leg foremost and try to keep in touch, so that if hounds check, after covering perhaps a mile or two, he will be there or thereabouts and have a good idea what to do.

We have vivid recollections of a day on which hounds hit off the line of an otter that had stolen away from a rock-holt without being seen or tallied. She, for it was a young bitch otter, left the main stream with a good start, and turned up a runner which lay in a deep, narrow valley. At the head of this valley the otter turned left-handed and crossed over more than a mile of open country comprising the watershed. Descending the other side, she entered a stream via a hanging covert on the near bank. When hounds hit off her line, they raced up the valley with evidently a screaming scent. At the top they hovered for an instant, then swept on left-handed over the hill. The huntsman, who was convinced that they were running riot, attempted to stop them, and succeeded in getting hold of some of them, but the others went on, and we could hear them speaking merrily in the direction of the stream in the valley below. We passed the huntsman, blowing his horn, with a couple or two of hounds round him, and on asking him what was the matter, he said hounds were rioting. Seeing we did not believe him, he reluctantly followed on, and to cut a long story short, hounds eventually killed their otter handsomely, after dusting her up and down the stream for some three-quarters of an hour. We can see the expression on that huntsman's face yet, when hounds collared their otter, and he was obliged to acknowledge he had been in the wrong, while his hounds had been right.

Now the first lesson a huntsman, professional or amateur, has to learn is to _trust his hounds_. If he can't do this, he had better leave hunting alone, and look for another job. Once your hounds are properly entered, and you know their individual traits and idiosyncrasies, always trust to what _they_ say about it, and pay no attention to the utterances of a sceptical field, many of whom know little or nothing about the science of hunting. The line hounds are running may perhaps seem a very unusual one, even to you, but if Rouser, Thunder, Marksman, and a few more of your trusted favourites are voicing the fact that an otter is in front of them, then you can bet your life it is so, and your job is to keep in touch with them if possible. Always remember that an otter may be found anywhere, and may do anything once he is afoot or afloat. The only certain thing about him is his variability. You will learn something new about him every day you go out with hounds, and if you store up the information thus obtained, it will come in mighty useful on many a future occasion.

The Master who hunts his own hounds should study the habits of otters in winter as well as in summer. After a prolonged snow-fall a visit to one or other of his rivers, lakes, etc., will afford a variety of useful information regarding the whereabouts and the doings of otters. Their tracks will be plain enough in the snow, and by following these footprints a knowledge of the various routes traversed by otters will be gained, and many a long forgotten drain or other hiding-place discovered. The lessons thus learnt will come in mighty useful when the hunting season again begins. When thus scouting his country, he should not forget to drop in at the mill, or the various farmsteads near the river. The miller can be a good friend, or, if he likes, a bad enemy, and the same applies to farm-hands, and other people who work on the land. A chat with the farmer and his wife goes a long way towards smoothing the ground for hunting, and a friendly word and a pipe of baccy with the river-watchers and labourers ensures amicable relations, and paves the way towards encouraging an interest in hounds and hunting.

It is the Master who is thus on the job in winter as well as summer who gets plenty of good walks for his puppies, and is free to hunt when and where he likes during the season. On his journeys he will hear much about otters and their doings, a great deal of which information, however, he will take with the proverbial pinch of salt. Half the people you meet, even those who live near rivers, have never seen an otter, although there are, of course, certain individuals whose information is to be depended on. These are few and far between, however, and the wise Master will trust to his own powers of observation, rather than to reports of hypothetical otters, which in the end turn out to have been black cats, or some other animals seen near the water at dusk.

Harking back to our hunting, however, hounds have marked their otter in his holt in a root or some other retreat, and the next job is to evict him. Hounds are called off and taken back out of sight in a nearby field, and the terriers come on the scene. Vic or Vengeance is sent in, and very soon there are sounds underground betokening "something doing." The barking ceases for a moment, and then a dark brown object glides out through the tangled roots, there is a slight splash, and a long chain of bubbles as the otter takes to the river. A shrill tally-ho! brings hounds pell-mell to the scene of action, and the hunt is on. It all sounds very easy, and sometimes is so, but on other occasions the otter refuses to bolt, or the terriers cannot bring sufficient pressure to bear, so there is nothing for it but send to the nearest farmhouse for tools. Spades, pick, and crowbar are soon on the spot, and there may then ensue some strenuous digging, before the terriers are located, and finally the otter. Occasionally, when the terriers are sent in, a rabbit or rabbits may bolt, or even as has happened before now, a fox. Then is the time you are likely to hear subdued remarks from sceptical members of your field. Take no notice of that. Your hounds say their otter is there, believe them, no matter how many rabbits appear. Otters lie very close at times, often till you dig right up to them, and on such an occasion you will have the laugh on the "doubting Thomases," when you pull little terrier Vengeance out by the stern, and your otter takes to the river. If a terrier can get behind his otter, he will generally persuade the quarry to bolt, but if the otter backs up into a cul-de-sac, the dog is obliged to face him in front, and if the terrier is a real "sticker" he will hold his otter there until the diggers work down to the spot.

Otters will lie up in rabbit burrows, drains, tree-roots, and sometimes in fox or badger earths. Rock-holts are also favourite places on the north country rivers. Where there are several side-drains branching off a main drain, it is often difficult for the terriers to locate their otter. Some rock-holts, too, are practically impregnable, and the same applies to many a big head of earths in covert. Occasionally an otter may be persuaded to bolt when other means have failed, by getting a number of people to jump on top of the holt, the party doing so in unison. When digging or terrier operations are going on, someone should be stationed where they can keep watch for the otter bolting. If the quarry can slip out under water, he may get away undetected, unless a bright look out is kept. During the time that digging is going on, the field should be made to stand well back from the scene of operations. When they crowd round the place, as the average field so often does, they are a nuisance to the diggers, and talk so much that it is often impossible to hear the terriers underground. Again, should an otter bolt from a drain, and have some distance to go before reaching the water, the field are nearly sure to start halloing, with the result that hounds break away and arrive on the scene ere the otter has had fair law.

Once the otter is afloat, the next thing is to keep him going until hounds tire him out, and at last gain their reward. The field should now spread out at intervals, along the bank, and _stand still_. By doing so each individual can watch the water in front of him, and tally when he is certain he sees the otter. When the field persists in rushing up and down the banks they are a nuisance to both hounds and huntsman. Standing still, and keeping a bright look out, they can be of the greatest service, and at the same time they see more sport than when constantly shifting their positions. After he has been hunted for some time, the otter will begin to show himself, and it is then perfectly legitimate for the watcher to tally-ho if he sees the otter. Unless, however, he is sure that it is the otter, he had best keep silent. A salmon in rapid water, or a moorhen crossing a pool, has often deceived a watcher on the bank, therefore make sure before tallying. Also, never tally because someone else says he has seen the otter, see it yourself first. It may be necessary to send some of the field to form a "stickle" across the shallows, above or below the scene of action. These people must keep a sharp look out, watching the water carefully. If they do their work properly, the otter should not get past them without being seen. If the hunt gradually works up-stream, the people on the lower stickle should not be forgotten. Some signal, say a few notes on the whistle, should be given in order to let them know that they are at liberty to leave their posts.

In rapid, or deep water, an otter will often pass an experienced hunter without being tallied, particularly if it is moving close to the farther bank. The angle at which the light falls on the water often makes it extremely difficult to detect an otter as it passes. After being hunted for some length of time, the otter shows himself more and more frequently. He may vary the water work by making an excursion overland, or running the length of a nearby wood. Perhaps he takes refuge in a holt, and is then bolted by the terriers. Anyway, if things go right, the time comes when he can do no more, and he dies fighting on the shallows, leaving his mark on nearly every hound. The huntsman at last gets the pack to leave him, not using a whip, but pushing hounds off with knees, hands, and pole, after which he slips the carcass under water for a minute or two until he recovers his wind, and then carries it ashore. There it is weighed, mask, pole, and pads are severed, the carcass is slit up, and tossed to the eagerly expectant pack. "Hi, worry, worry, worry," "Who-whoop! tear him and eat him." After blowing the "rattle," and cheering hounds to keep up the excitement, the various trophies are distributed, and one's thoughts then turn in the direction of certain bottles which are snugly reposing in a friend's car on the nearest highway.

Early, or late in the season, when the weather is boisterous and the water cold, it pays to hold up a few couples of hounds, reserving them until the working pack has had about enough of it. Then at the right moment, throw in your reserves and make a quick finish. This plan is especially applicable to lake hunting, when hounds are continually swimming in deep water.

When hounds are on a drag, or have put down their otter, the huntsman should encourage them, cheering them on to any particular hound which has made a hit, and the same when they mark solidly at a root. There is no need to be noisy, but hounds work all the better for encouragement, and a bit of excitement at a holt teaches young hounds to mark their otter. To make a success of otter-hunting, or any other kind of hunting for that matter, a man must use his brains, and to some extent call on his powers of imagination.

A chapter on hunting is hardly complete without some mention of that elusive mystery called scent, so a few words will be devoted to it here. You get good and bad scenting days in otter-hunting just as you do when hunting fox or hare, but the chase of the otter has the advantage of being conducted both on land and water, and if scent is bad on the latter, it may be quite the reverse if your otter takes to terra firma. Sometimes it is good on both, though it may happen that an otter which has been hustled about the woods or across country apparently gives off little scent when he returns to the water. A bitch otter in cub, or one with a young family, appears to often give off little or no scent, and where hunting takes place on a river polluted by oil, or other foreign matter, scent is generally conspicuous by its absence. Scent varies too at different times of day. In the early morning, before the sun has dispelled the dew, it is generally good, but dies away as the atmosphere becomes warmer. When the sun begins to sink and the air becomes damp again, scent is likely to freshen; while a shower of rain may affect it in the same way. The vagaries of scent are impossible to foretell with anything like certainty, and perhaps it is as well so, otherwise sport would become too cut and dried, and would lose much of its interest on that account.

Occasionally an otter takes refuge behind weiring or in some other retreat, that necessitates pulling down a certain amount of the obstruction before he can be evicted. In this case, permission from the owner or tenant of the place should be obtained before beginning operations. In the same way, should the owner or tenant object to the presence of hounds on his land, always be civil, no matter what he says, and take hounds away without any argument. The life of the sport depends upon the existence of amicable relations between the Hunt and the owners of the land which they cross. Although terriers can as a rule bolt an otter if they can get to him, ferrets have been used for the same purpose before to-day. Both otters and foxes have on occasion been bolted from rabbit burrows during ferreting operations. In some countries artificial drains or holts have been constructed for the use of otters, but there is usually a good deal of uncertainty as to whether the otters will take to such abodes. Where old drains run a long way into the land, with possibly a number of branch drains, it is often wise to place iron gratings at some distance from the mouth, in order to facilitate matters when it comes to bolting an otter. As the great charm about otter-hunting is its freedom from artificiality, _made_ holts or drains need hardly be encouraged, except perhaps in extreme cases where there is no suitable lying-up place for otters over a long stretch of water.

When hunting hounds, the Master will be assisted in the field by two whippers-in, which may consist of the paid kennelman, and an amateur. Their job is to keep hounds in check when necessary, prevent rioting, if any, and keep in touch with the pack should hounds go off across country with a screaming scent. Taking it for granted that the paid hand knows his job, the amateur should be equally proficient. He must keep a keen look out as he goes for signs of otters, as well as hidden drains, etc., and he must know the names of all the hounds and their individual idiosyncrasies, so as to tell instantly if they are inclined to riot, or they show an inclination to mark at roots, or take a line away from the river. Speaking broadly, the whippers-in prevent hounds going too fast and outpacing the Master and the field, but it should be remembered that hounds can be kept _too much_ in check, and by so doing they are balked in their desire to hunt, as well as drive on when scenting conditions are good. In fox or hare hunting, the huntsman's place is with his hounds, whether they are drawing or running, and there appears to be no good reason why an otter-huntsman should not "get a move on" when his hounds push ahead on a hot drag, or drive along across country. It is quite as necessary to run, and often run hard, with otterhounds, as to ride hard with foxhounds, and the huntsman who takes his own time whilst his whipper-in is bursting himself across country is surely lacking in keenness.

Although otter-hunting does not call for as much quickness on the part of the huntsman as fox-hunting, we still must confess we like to see a huntsman of otterhounds show some agility when his hounds run fast. This particularly applies to hunting in the north, where otters so often cross steep watersheds. A great deal of valuable time is frequently lost, simply because the huntsman prefers to take his own time, instead of attempting to keep in close touch with hounds, and thus be on the spot should they momentarily require his assistance. As far as the field are concerned, it is their own fault if they are left behind when hounds run. When travelling with hounds on the highway, however, the huntsman and whippers-in should go at a reasonable pace, so as to give the field a chance--particularly the ladies--to be there when hounds are put to water. Racing ahead with hounds on the roads gets the pack into the habit of pushing on when there is really no need for it, so a reasonable walking pace should be aimed at.

When hounds have put their otter down, or "hit him abroad," to use an old expression, and are swimming him, the huntsman should keep on the shallow side of the river, more particularly if the farther bank is thickly overgrown with willows or other cover. From the shallow side he has a clear view of what his hounds are doing, and if it is necessary to pole the farther bank if an otter persists in hanging there, he should ask one of his whippers-in, or some experienced member of the field to do it for him.

With regard to clothing and etceteras for otter-hunting, little need be said here. Hunt uniforms are usually made of woollen serge material, which dries quickly, and withstands a lot of rough usage. Shorts are sometimes worn, but in our experience loose knickerbockers are much preferable, particularly for hunt officials who may have to force their way through briers or other undergrowth in the execution of their duty. Bare knees and thorns do not associate well together, while breeches of the semi-riding type are too tight-fitting, and retain water. Boots or shoes should be well nailed to prevent slipping, preferably with soft, wrought-iron hobs, which get a better grip on rocks than steel nails. An iron-shod pole of ash or hazel--the latter is light yet strong--is necessary for crossing deep or swift water, and in some districts as an aid to jumping wide ditches and open drains. A pole shod with a double-pronged spike is less liable to slip than one armed with a single spike. Likewise a pole cut from the growing tree or sapling looks more workmanlike than a "made" one, ornamented with a fancy metal head or other embellishment. With regard to the whip, for use by Hunt officials, one with a short lash is to be preferred, for it can be far more easily cracked when the user is standing in water than a long-lashed affair.

The huntsman who cannot blow an ordinary horn without unnecessary discords will be well advised to secure a reed-horn. Every call can be sounded on this, with the exception of that "to call hounds away," and for this quite a good substitute can be blown. When using the horn, he should employ distinct calls, then both hounds and field know what he means. Some huntsmen blow the same note all day long, and hounds take no heed of it, while the monotonous sound gets on the nerves of the field.

Nowadays the otter-hunting season extends from April to September, but in the fourteenth century it lasted from February to June.