CHAPTER V

REMINISCENCES

There are very few Masters in the country who hunt fox in winter and otter in summer with the same hounds, and fewer still we imagine who have killed an otter and a fox on the same day. The latter feat was performed by the Master of the South Tetcott, whose hounds found and killed an otter on the River Othery, after which they unkennelled a fox cub, and after rattling him about a bit, eventually brought him to hand.

One of the few packs hunting both fox and otter is the Ynsfor, a private pack owned by Major Evan Jones. His country lies in Carnarvon and Merioneth, Snowdon and the adjoining mountains lying within its borders. The Master is his own huntsman, and hounds are followed on foot, owing to the precipitous nature of the country. The pack is composed of the old Welsh breed, some rough and some smooth, with many of the old black-and-tan colour amongst them. These hounds have been in Major Jones's family since 1765.

Probably few people have been out with both foxhounds and otterhounds on the same day, but we can plead guilty to having accomplished this feat. Before the L.D.O.H. were disbanded, hounds met very early one morning, but failed to get an otter afloat, and when they returned to kennels we went off and joined the Coniston Foxhounds, and eventually saw Reynard accounted for.

A great many people appear to have a rooted idea that an otter is a slow-moving, clumsy creature, which never leaves the vicinity of water. Such an assumption is, to say the least of it, inaccurate, as anyone can easily testify, particularly those who have done much otter-hunting on the rocky rivers of the north. In a previous chapter we have mentioned a hunt during which the otter crossed a watershed, and this brings to mind a seven and a half hours' hunt by the K. and D.O.H. on the River Lune in the season of 1921. The otter was lying rough in a hanging wood overlooking the river, and was found by a little fell-foxhound named Cragsman, belonging to the Ullswater pack. After some up and down work on the river, our otter stole away on land, and crossed some fields to a small stream which runs between steep banks. There was a screaming scent, and hounds fairly flew in pursuit. The otter ran the small stream nearly to the top of the ghyll, then turned and came back. In a rock-bound pool he lay low, but hounds were soon at him again. The pool lay between smooth and slippery walls of rock, and at first the otter barely showed his nose. Suddenly, however, he made a terrific spring--his hind legs no doubt getting purchase on a ledge below the surface of the water--and all but got clear of the pool. He hung for a brief instant on the rock wall, making the picture of a lifetime for anyone lucky enough to have been there with a camera, then he turned and fell with a splash into the pool. It was a miracle how he got clear, but get away he did to run the fields again, and take refuge in a rabbit burrow on the bank of the main river. Hounds were taken away, and after a bit of work the terriers bolted him. He took down stream, and after the pack was laid on, a couple of hounds collared him on the shallows. He appeared to fling these hounds off as if they were straws, then he shot into a pool, raising a splash and a wake like a hydroplane as he crossed it.

Reaching the farther bank, he at once took to the hanging wood, and went straight up it. He gained a short start by this manoeuvre, then the pack was roaring in his wake. Running the wood like a fox, it looked at first as if he was going right out at the top, but he turned and came down again, crossed the river and took refuge in a strong root holt. Some time was spent digging before he could be ejected, and when he was at last obliged to bolt, he again went straight across the river and took to the wood. Hounds drove him round it, and he once more took the water. Here he entered a long but not very deep pool, and hounds swam him down it, then he turned and hounds checked. There was little or no cover on the banks, but he got out without being seen, the first warning we had of his departure being given by a young, rough hound which hit off his line in the wood. This time he ran straight out to the top of the covert, turned left-handed and crossed the open fields for more than a mile, just beating hounds to a drain, the grating of which had been moved, where he got in and was eventually left.

We viewed this otter several times at close quarters, and estimated his weight at nearer 30 lb. than 25 lb.

He showed extraordinary running powers and activity for so large an otter, and it was hard luck on hounds that he beat them.

There was a screaming scent on land, but when he took the water for the last time, hounds had some difficulty in owning the wash. That otter would most certainly have convinced anyone who was sceptical of _Lutra's_ activity and running powers.

We have already mentioned the fondness that otters have--particularly in Canada--for sliding. When engaged in this amusement, they tuck their forelegs in, and toboggan down the bank on their stomachs. This season (1921), whilst the Coniston Foxhounds were hunting on the fells, a couple and a half of hounds ran a fox in the direction of an earth on which some of the field were standing. About the same time, an otter suddenly ran out from some rocks near the main earth, and after going some distance, tucked in its head and forelegs, and actually _rolled_ some yards downhill. We were on the opposite side of the valley at the time, but a very keen and experienced fox and otter hunter who was there, and witnessed the incident, said that he had never seen anything like it before in his life.

A name to conjure with in the annals of Lakeland otter-hunting is that of the late Bobby Troughton. He was born on Fellside, Kendal, in 1836. In the early eighties he purchased three hounds, "Raleigh," "Ragman," and "Londesborough," and with these three hounds and a couple of terriers he began to hunt the local rivers. Having thus formed the nucleus of a pack, he gradually added to it and improved it, until the late Mr Courtenay Tracy, M.O.H., said there was not another pack like it in England. Bobby's heaviest otter was a big dog weighing 32 lb., and was killed in Rydal Lake. One of his most famous hunts took place in Lever's Water on the Coniston fells. Hounds met at 5 a.m. at the foot of Yewdale Beck, and striking a hot drag at once, went out towards the hills. Near the edge of the tarn they put their otter down, and he at once took to the water. For nine hours he kept hounds going, and it was not until some of the field volunteered to go to Coniston for a boat--no small undertaking--that Bobby was able to get afloat himself, and give his hounds a helping hand. At long last the otter attempted to land, and hounds collared him, thus earning their reward.

At one time in the north, packs of rough hounds were kept for hunting otter, marten, and foumart. One of the last of these packs to hunt in the Lake District belonged to the late Mr Fleming Green, of Grasmere. Anthony Chapman, who was his huntsman, and later hunted the Windermere Harriers for many seasons, is still hale and hearty, and delights in a "crack" about old times.

Another well-known Master in the north was the late Mr James Lomax, of Clayton Hall, Great Harwood, Lancashire.

His "Otter-hunting Diary" contains an account of the sport he enjoyed from 1829 to 1871, and is most interesting reading. Like Bobby Troughton in later years, he bred a very perfect pack of hounds of the rough-coated type. In 1871 rabies unfortunately broke out in his kennels, necessitating the destruction of all but three of the hounds. Being himself advanced in years, he made no attempt to start a new pack, despite the many offers of hounds he received, and one cannot blame him. By the time he had got together another pack as good as the one he had lost, he would as he said himself have been too old to follow and enjoy the sport. Mr Lomax always met very early in the morning, often as soon as 3 a.m. He showed wonderful sport on Ribble, Lune, and many other rivers, and old men who can remember hunting with him, speak in glowing terms of the great hunts they enjoyed with his pack. In one respect Mr Lomax differed from present-day Masters, i.e., in the practice of "sacking" otters and removing them to more huntable waters. There are in the diary, several instances recorded of such otters having died, so that the practice was not a profitable one.

The most famous otter-hunter Scotland has ever seen was the late Mr Waldron Hill, of Murrayfield House, near Edinburgh.

When quite a young man he contracted consumption, and was told by his doctors that he had not long to live. Nothing daunted, however, Mr Hill took to otter-hunting, and the sport agreed with him so well, that he hunted practically every river in Scotland, and lived to be far advanced in years.

When the West Lothian Foxhounds were in existence, Mr Hill used to run with them, and saw as much sport as most of the mounted brigade.

In "Field and Fern," _The Druid_ wrote regarding Mr Hill: "Some years ago he had a pack of otterhounds in Monmouthshire, of the Welsh breed, smooth and white with yellow ears; for the last five years he has had black and tans, a cross between the bloodhound and rough Lancashire hound, which is used in that country for otter and foumart. Their nose is nearly equal to the Lancashire hound, who are unrivalled in this respect and never disposed to be tonguey. The bloodhound cross also makes them more savage in their worry, but they are often very unpleasant to manage in kennel. Mr Hill has found the foxhound fail in working up to his otter in a cold drag, but excellent on the line when the game is fairly started. With him the southern hound has only failed from lack of constitution, which is injured by too much swimming."

Mr Hill used terriers of Welsh breed, which he got from the kennels of Mr Ramsay Williams, after the latter's death. These terriers weighed about 15 lb., and were bred as flat-sided as possible to enable them to squeeze into narrow places. They were fairly long on the leg, and were used for bolting fox, otter, marten, and foumart. Mr Hill's principal river was the Tyne, flowing through Haddingtonshire. Speaking of the South Esk, _The Druid_ says: "Last August it was the scene of a very remarkable run, as the otter only touched the water twice for a few minutes throughout a run of eight or nine miles, and was eventually pulled down in the heart of one of the East Lothian fox-whins." Regarding a long drag with Mr Hill's hounds, _The Druid_ says: "In '62 the hounds hit upon one at the Clutby Dam reservoir on the north side of the Pentlands, and hunted him through the sheep-drains right over the Pentlands, down to the reservoir at St Catherine's. He had gone through it on the north side, and from there down the Glencorn burn, nearly to the North Esk. Leaving this for another burn across the country, he headed back to the reservoir at St Catherine's, where, on account of the water being too high, he could not be moved. This otter must have travelled nearly twenty miles during the night, and it was well for Mr Hill that his terriers were long-legged; and that he himself is always in condition summer or winter, or he would have seen nothing of the fun on that hot and very wet September morning." We wonder how far the members of a modern otter-hunting field would get, if asked to follow hounds on a hot drag for twenty miles? Not far we'll warrant, for most of them would swear that hounds were on a fox.

People who incautiously "tail" an otter are very apt to get bitten, and regarding this _The Druid_ says: "In all these forays Mr Hill has never got heavily bitten himself; but many years ago, when he was hunting on the Kenvy near Abergavenny, the otter came out of the water just before it was killed, made straight at the whip, who was a few yards off his master, shook him savagely by the trousers, and then passed on."

We have heard people say that an otter makes no splash when diving or otherwise entering the water. Certainly at times he does not make much of a disturbance, for his sinuous body is built for swimming, but when playing in the water, or when hunted, he splashes quite a lot. We were on one occasion watching the mouth of a drain on the river Lune, in which the terriers were baiting an otter. In front of this drain was a row of willow trees. Standing quietly a yard or so to one side of the drain entrance we at last saw the otter show himself. He stood at the drain mouth sniffing the air, the muscles working his thick "whiskers," giving his face a very puffed out appearance. Hearing or seeing some of the field on the opposite bank of the river he turned round and went back up the drain. A fairly long interval elapsed, and we were just bending down to listen at the drain mouth, when, without the slightest warning the otter shot out, and leapt straight through the willow tree, to land in the water with a splash like a sack of oats. From where he took off, to the point where he hit the river, constituted a remarkable jump, and he must have been coming pretty fast when he shot out of the drain.

On another occasion at the same drain, which is a favourite resort of otters, the terriers were at work, and an opening had been made into the drain at some distance from the river. We were watching the drain mouth, and after a bit the otter showed himself, but went back. The bank where we stood was high, and there was a certain amount of rubbish in the way of dead branches, etc., partially covering the drain mouth. Being below the bank we could not see what was happening in the field, and we were greatly astonished when a big otter suddenly rushed over the edge of the bank, nearly on top of us, scrambled through the branches, and disappeared up the drain. The terriers had bolted him in the field, and we, of course, were unaware of what was happening. This otter finally emerged at the drain mouth, but unlike his predecessor, took the water quietly below the willow trees.

In Walton's description of a morning's sport with Mr Sadler's "Otter-dogs," Sweetlips--one of the hounds--brings the carcass of the otter to "Venator." We have on several occasions seen a hound seize and carry a dead-beat otter ashore. This is easily done in the case of a 12 lb. or 14 lb. otter, but it is a different matter for a hound to handle a big, fighting dog otter. When a hunted otter is floating on top of the water, he often makes a considerable splash if he dives in a hurry.

Although perhaps not so good a climber as some other members of the weasel family, the otter is no slouch at negotiating steep, rocky ghylls, and can scramble about in a wonderful manner. It seems rather hard to account for the fact that in some seasons hounds kill a majority of dog otters, while in other seasons the total is chiefly made up of bitches. Where you find a bitch otter, there is often a dog within a mile or so, either up or down stream; and no doubt the two of them keep that particular stretch of water free from other lutrine intruders.

Scent and its vagaries will no doubt always be a mysterious problem. How often have we seen hounds able to hunt quite well amongst the undergrowth, yet when they reached an open expanse of sand where the seal of an otter was plainly visible, they have crossed it without a single hound speaking. An instance of this comes to mind during the season of 1921, when hounds ran well across country, whereas on a sand-bank, literally padded flat with otter tracks, never a hound opened.

Although hounds may sometimes travel a long way up-stream without touching a drag, that does not always signify that you will not find. An instance of this comes to mind when we were hunting a small hill-stream. Hounds had covered some miles of water without a sign of a drag, and the field was becoming rather discouraged, when suddenly the pack opened in no uncertain manner, and began tearing at a holt on the bank. While hounds were thus occupied, the otter bolted and went downstream, and after a short hunt was accounted for. Until reaching the spot where hounds marked, there was little or no lying ground, and seeing that there was also no up-stream drag it pointed to the fact that our otter had travelled over a neighbouring watershed, and had entered the holt on his journey downstream. It is always well to remember that an otter may be found anywhere, and because there happens to be no drag up-stream that does not mean to say that you may not find when you reach the head waters.

Regarding the agility and jumping powers of otters we remember hounds finding an otter lying rough, which, after a certain amount of dusting up and down stream, jumped a wall into a road, passed under a motor car standing there, and went over another wall into the field beyond. Leaving the field it scaled a third wall before returning to the water. Eventually it took to some extensive coverts, and after running a ring through them, it was bowled over by hounds in the open as it was making its way back to the river. That an otter knows every inch of ground over which he has once travelled is made quite apparent to those who do much otter-hunting.

We have, in a previous chapter, told of an otter which travelled ten miles overland from one stream to another, going straight to the various smoots through the walls which barred its passage. In an emergency, too, an otter makes up his mind pretty quickly. On one occasion the terriers got to their otter in a drain, and after opening the latter, the otter backed out. The drain lay parallel to a hedge, and like a flash the otter darted through this, ran down behind it, and was into another underground retreat before anyone had time to realise his game.

As a rule, if two otters are put down together, the one which is not being hunted will promptly make itself scarce. We remember on one occasion, however, when hounds were hunting a bitch otter, the dog hung about in plain sight under a bridge, and remained there until the bitch was accounted for, after which he himself suffered the same fate.

Otter-hunting is the least artificial of our British field sports. The otter is a wild animal, living the same free life that he has done for generations, and we have yet to learn a good deal concerning him. Being a great wanderer, he is here to-day and gone to-morrow, and his hunting provides more "glorious uncertainty" than the chase of any other beast. Before you can hunt him you must find him, but whereas with deer, fox, and hare, the finding is often the easiest part of the business, in the case of the otter it is the most difficult. In a previous chapter we have made brief mention of otter-hunting dress. In these days blue is the popular colour for Hunt livery, the material most favoured being woollen serge. We wonder how modern otter-hunters would like to wear the dress mentioned by Blaine, i.e., a green dress turned up with red, fur cap with gold band, and waterproof hip-boots decorated with red or gold tassels.

It was Somervile in _The Chase_ who coined the phrase "sly goose-footed prowler," and gave to the world one of the best accounts of an otter-hunt ever penned. Otter-hunting seems to have been little catered for in the matter of songs pertaining to the sport. No doubt there are many purely local ditties concerning the doings of various packs, but few songs of real worth have made their appearance. In "The Poetry of Sport" by Hedley Peek, we find one or two, and in the "Otter-hunting Diary" of Mr James Lomax there are a couple of Lancashire otter-hunting songs. One of these songs is in dialect, and we take the liberty of quoting a verse or two for to anyone who understands broad Lancashire they convey a lively description of the sport. The song is entitled "The Hunt in the Hodder." In the first verse the narrator goes to the meet:

"Old Squire Lomax's dags I'd oft heerd um tell, I bethought me one morning I'd see um mysell, So I donn'd me, and reet off for Mytton dud trig, Un I landed me just as they loosed under th' Brig.

_Chorus_

Cobbler wur theer, Carver wur theer, Random and Rover, oud Pilot and aw."

After a good drag, hounds mark their otter in his holt, and Crab the terrier is sent in.

"Hark! Crab's agate feighting him, hard as he con, Be sharp un seize howd of a dog, every mon. We had nobbut just cleeked um, un roven um back, When th' grey-headed maister croap eawt in a crack."

_Chorus_

Hounds swim their otter for some time until at last he takes refuge in a holt.

"We swum him to Winckley, un theer he dud hoyle, But a pick un a spade soon his harbour dud spoil; Then he fought into Ribble, ay, reet thro' the pack, Thro' foar on um once had him dean of his back."

_Chorus_

Hounds eventually account for their otter, and the song finishes with:

"This otter whoas weight wor just twenty-four peands, Two hears, forty minits, wor hunted by th' heands; Heer's luck to all th' pack, when they meeten next year, May th' Captain, un me, un aw us be theer."

_Chorus_

A rather amusing incident occurred some years ago when we were whipping-in to the now disbanded Lake District Otterhounds. Whilst waiting at Lakeside for the boat that runs up Lake Windermere, a char-a-banc load of trippers arrived, to whom the sight of a pack of otterhounds was evidently a novelty. Before we knew what was happening, the crowd of sightseers had formed a ring round hounds, each member of the party producing a song book. There then rose on the air the well-known refrain "John Peel." The old huntsman listened whilst they sang the first verse, then suddenly exclaimed "Give it more weft! give it more weft!" Isaac evidently thought that their efforts compared badly with the way in which the old song is sung by fox-hunters in Cumberland or Westmorland.

In addition to being the least artificial of our British field sports, otter-hunting affords unrivalled opportunities for those who love to watch the work of hounds. It is more popular now than it ever was, yet there is still ample room for many more packs before our rivers and lakes are thoroughly hunted as they should be. The more otters you kill the more you will have, for riparian owners and tenants are for the most part quite willing to afford protection to _Lutra_, when they know that a keen huntsman and a killing pack of hounds are hunting their waters regularly throughout the season.

In conclusion we will finish with the old south-country toast "Death to dog otters! Long life to the little bitches!"

FINIS

INDEX

Abnormal colour, 32 Activity of otter, 55, 137 Adult otter, eyes of, 46 African otter, 23 Age of otters, 32 Air, in holts, 50 "Argyll, a Fauna of," 32

Back teeth of otter, 22 Bethel, William, 43 Bitch otter, breeding of, 31 Biss hunters, 115 Black-and-tan Welsh hounds, 122 Bloodhound, 112 Blaine, 150 Bobby Troughton, 138 British otter, 22 "British Rural Sports, Manual of," 76

Coke, 37, 38 Colour of otter, 26 Charles St John, 56 Claw-marks of otter, 40 Clothing for otter-hunting, 109 Claws, otter, 71 _Chase, The_, 151 Colour of terriers, 127 Chesapeake Bay dog, 113 Cross-bred hounds, 115 Cubs, 31, 32, 42, 43, 45, 46, 47, 48, 60

Dabchicks, 62 Dalnaspidal, 63 Digging by otter, 70 Dixon, H. H., 77 Digging, 98 Drains, 106, 107 _Druid, The_, 141, 142, 143 Dress, otter-hunting, 150 Drag, 78, 79, 80 Ducklings, 64

Eels, 60 Early meets, 77-80 Essex O.H., 31 Equipment, otter-hunting, 110 Evicting otter, 96 Exercising hounds, 129 Excrement, 37

Feet, otter's, 25 "Field and Fern," 77 Finding otters, 87, 88 Food for hounds, 129 Footprints, 38-40 Fur, otter's, 25, 26

Gaits of otter, 41

Harrier, Lancashire, 113 Hazel pole, 110 Head, otter's, 24, 26 Hebrides, otters in, 55 Hide, otter's, 33 Highlands, otters in, 55 Highway, hounds on, 108 Hill, Mr Waldron, 140 Holts, 49, 50 Hound, lime, 75 Horn, 110

Indian otter, 23 Interdigital webs, 28

James Lomax, 77, 123 John, King, 73 Jones, Major Evan, 132, 133 John, Charles St, 56 Jura, 32

King John, 73 Kenets, 113 Kennels, 130

Lash, whip, 110 Liam, 75 Lime hound, 75 Lomax, James, 77, 123

"Master of Game," 73, 75, 113, 114 Marten, 65, 66 Meeting early, 77-80 Milbourne, 36

Notes on the horn, 111

Otter, natural history of, 21-41 ----, head of, 24, 26 ----, hide of, 33 ----, Indian, 23 ----, digging, 70 ----, excrement of, 37 ----, feet of, 25 ----, fur of, 25, 26 ----, footprints of, 38-40 ----, African, 23 ----, age of, 32 ----, activity of, 55, 137 ----, British, 22 ----, back teeth of, 29 ----, colour of, 26 ----, cubs, 31, 32, 42, 43, 45, 46, 47, 48, 60 ----, coke, 37, 38 ----, claw-marks of, 40 ----, claws, 71 ----, holts, 49, 50 ----, abnormal colour of, 32 ----, weights and measurements of, 30, 31

Peek, Hedley, 151 Pine-marten, 65, 66 "Poetry of Sport," 151

Record weights, 30 Rose, Mr, 31

Salmon and otter, 57, 58 Seal, 38 Scent, 104, 105 Signal, on whistle, 100 Size of otters, 30, 31 Songs, otter-hunting, 151 Spears, otter, 74 Spraints, 37 Spur, 38

Tail, otter's, 25 Tame cubs, 47 Tallying, 99, 100 Teeth, otter's, 29 Track, otter's, 38 Troughton, Bobby, 138 Terriers, 125-128

Uniforms, hunt, 109

Weights of otters, 30, 31 Welsh hounds, 122

Ynsfor O.H., 132

Zoological Gardens, 47, 54, 72

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE NORTHUMBERLAND PRESS LIMITED, NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

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Transcriber Note

Illustrations moved so as to not split paragraphs. On page 114, braches was changed to raches. Hyphenation and "Mr" usage were standardized.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Book of the Otter, by Richard Clapham