Little Joe Otter

Books by

THORNTON W. BURGESS

Mother West Wind Series

Old Mother West Wind

Mother West Wind’s Children

Mother West Wind’s Animal Friends

Mother West Wind’s Neighbors

Mother West Wind “Why” Stories

Mother West Wind “How” Stories

Mother West Wind “When” Stories

Mother West Wind “Where” Stories

Green Meadow Series

Happy Jack

Mrs. Peter Rabbit

Bowser the Hound

Old Granny Fox

Green Forest Series

Lightfoot the Deer

Blacky the Crow

Whitefoot the Wood Mouse

Buster Bear’s Twins

Smiling Pool Series

Billy Mink

Little Joe Otter

Jerry Muskrat at Home

Longlegs the Heron

“Come on, children!” cried Mrs. Joe.
Frontispiece. See [page 42].

Copyright, 1925,

BY THORNTON W. BURGESS

All rights reserved

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

BY ARRANGEMENT WITH LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY

CHAPTER I
LITTLE JOE OTTER SPRINGS A SURPRISE

Folks aren’t so sure about you when

You spring surprises now and then.

Little Joe Otter.

Of all the little Quaddies who live in the Green Meadows, the Smiling Pool and the Green Forest, none is more surprising than Little Joe Otter. He is full of surprises, is Little Joe. He has a way of suddenly bobbing up and just as suddenly disappearing, which makes him one of the hardest of all the little people to get acquainted with. Just when you think there is no one around, up bobs Little Joe and gives you a surprise. Just when you are watching him, down he goes and you never see him again.

And when you are acquainted with him, he is just as surprising. He is full of pranks and dearly loves to play. He is a wonderful swimmer, as no one knows better than those who live in the Smiling Pool. At times he is a great traveler in spite of his short legs, and he knows more of the Great World than most of his neighbors. In winter he swims under the ice and makes slippery slides down the snowy banks. In summer he makes slippery slides on muddy banks.

It is his wonderful swimming power which enables him to do many things in secret. You see, when he disappears under the water, his neighbors on land have no way of knowing where he goes or what he does. Billy Mink and Jerry Muskrat are the only ones who know much about Little Joe Otter, and even they do not know as much as they might, or as they think they do.

Peter Rabbit had missed Little Joe Otter in the Smiling Pool this spring. He had asked Jerry Muskrat and Billy Mink where Little Joe was.

“Oh!” replied Jerry Muskrat. “Probably he is on one of his foolish long journeys. What any one wants to leave the Smiling Pool for is more than I can understand. Probably if you go down to the Big River, you will find him fishing there.”

Just then there was a sudden splash right behind Jerry Muskrat. It was so sudden that it startled Jerry, and the first thing that Jerry does when he is startled is to dive. He did this time. When he came up, Peter Rabbit was still sitting on the bank of the Smiling Pool.

“What was it that frightened me?” asked Jerry.

Peter grinned. “I’m sure I don’t know. All I saw was a splash in the water.”

“Chuga-rum!” cried Grandfather Frog in his deepest, gruffest voice. “If I know anything about it, it was Little Joe Otter himself. I think, Jerry Muskrat, if you go far enough up the Laughing Brook, you will find that Little Joe is up there and not down at the Big River. I saw something that looked to me very much like a dark form swimming under water in that direction.”

“I don’t believe it,” replied Jerry. “Little Joe hasn’t been in the Smiling Pool in ever and ever so long. It would be a good thing if Little Joe would settle down. He ought to have a house the same as I have. I never did believe there was any good in this roaming around.”

Just then there were two splashes right where the Laughing Brook comes into the Smiling Pool. Peter and Grandfather Frog and Jerry looked hastily in that direction. Then they stared at each other.

“Did I or didn’t I see double?” Peter demanded. “It looked to me much like two Little Joe Otters!”

“It looked to me very much the same way,” said Jerry.

Grandfather Frog looked thoughtful. “I have a suspicion,” said he, “that little Joe Otter is springing a surprise on us. Have any of you heard of a Mrs. Joe?”

Peter looked at Jerry and Jerry looked at Peter. “Do you suppose it can be true?” they both exclaimed together.

CHAPTER II
PETER RABBIT GOES LOOKING

If there are things you would find out

Just use your eyes and look about.

Little Joe Otter.

No one had ever heard of a Mrs. Joe Otter, yet if there wasn’t a Mrs. Joe how was it that Grandfather Frog and Peter Rabbit and Jerry Muskrat, all three, had seemed to see two little brown heads where the Laughing Brook comes into the Smiling Pool. For a while they talked it over between themselves. Each was sure that he had seen two. It was only for a moment and then there was nothing to be seen. It was all very mysterious.

“There must be something the matter with our eyes,” declared Jerry. “Little Joe is such an uneasy fellow that he never would be content to settle down with a home of his own. Besides, wherever would he have found Mrs. Joe, if there is one?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” said Peter, hopping up. “I’m going to go right straight up the Laughing Brook and look for his home. If he’s got one, I don’t believe he can hide it from me.” With this off started Peter, lipperty-lipperty-lip.

“Good luck to you, Peter. If you find anything come back and tell us,” shouted Jerry Muskrat.

Up the Laughing Brook went Peter. Now he had no more idea than the man in the moon what kind of a home Little Joe Otter would be likely to have. He knew that Jerry Muskrat has two kinds of homes—one a hole in a bank, and the other a house in the Smiling Pool. He knew that Paddy the Beaver builds the same kinds of homes, only better. He knew that Billy Mink sometimes makes his home in a hollow log and sometimes under an old pile of brush and sometimes in a hole under a stump. Billy is not particular as to where his home is. But Peter didn’t know where to look for Little Joe’s home.

“He lives in the water even more than Billy Mink does, almost as much as Jerry Muskrat does, so I guess he probably has a home right close to the water,” said Peter. Then another thought struck him. He remembered that Jerry Muskrat makes his entrance to his home in the bank under water where it cannot be seen from the shore. If Little Joe were to do the same thing, he, Peter, might just as well look for a needle in a haystack. However, Peter is not easily discouraged. He hopped along, up one bank of the Laughing Brook, looking and looking for holes. Every hole he came to he examined with the greatest care. He sniffed and sniffed at each one, hoping to get a whiff of Little Joe Otter. When he had gone a long way up the Laughing Brook he crossed it on an old log and went back down the other side, looking and looking just the same.

But with all Peter’s looking, he didn’t find a thing. More than this, he saw no signs that Little Joe Otter had been up the Laughing Brook for a long time. He was just about to give up, discouraged, when in a deep little pool he heard a splash. He turned quickly. He was just in time to see Little Joe Otter swimming away with a fish in his mouth.

“Hi, Little Joe!” he called. “Are you living up this way?”

Little Joe grinned in spite of the fish in his mouth. “Certainly I am,” said Little Joe. “Come call on me and meet Mrs. Joe.”

With that Little Joe suddenly disappeared under water, and though Peter sat for a long, long time watching, he saw nothing more of Little Joe.

“Now however am I going to make a call when I don’t know where to call?” muttered Peter, as he started for the dear Old Briar-patch. “Anyway, I have found out that there is a Mrs. Joe!” he added triumphantly.

CHAPTER III
LITTLE JOE OTTER’S HOME

No matter how you love to roam

There comes a time you want a home.

Little Joe Otter.

Now though Peter Rabbit didn’t know it, he had walked right straight over the home of Little Joe Otter. Many other little forest people had walked over that home without guessing it. You see, Little Joe is just as smart in making a home as he is in everything else. Little Joe believes that a home is just for those who live there, and therefore that it is a secret which no one else should know. He had found Mrs. Joe far away on the Big River and had brought her back with him up the Laughing Brook to the Smiling Pool and through the Smiling Pool farther up the Laughing Brook to the place he had picked out for a home. They had come right through the Smiling Pool while Grandfather Frog was sitting on his green lily pad and Jerry Muskrat was sitting on the Big Rock talking to Peter Rabbit, who was sitting on the bank. Only once had they shown their little brown heads above the water, and that was when Peter and Jerry and Grandfather Frog had thought they saw double. You see, Mrs. Joe was very, very shy, and so Little Joe wanted her to become acquainted with the Laughing Brook and her new home before he introduced her to his friends and neighbors.

The place he had chosen for a home was close beside one of the deepest pools in the Laughing Brook. Growing close to the bank was a big tree with spreading roots. The bank was steep and mossy. All about grew the Green Forest. It was very lovely there. Also it was very quiet, and you probably would have called it very lonely. But it was just such a place as Otters love.

“Oh!” cried Mrs. Joe, when she saw it. “Is this where our home is to be?”

“Yes, my dear,” replied Little Joe. “That is, it is if you like it. I thought we could make our house with a back door between two of the roots of that old tree, and with a front door deep down under water. By and by, if we want, we can have a slippery slide down the bank. There are plenty of fish in the Laughing Brook and we are far enough in the Green Forest not to have visitors very often.”

Mrs. Joe dived into the little pool. She was gone a long time and Little Joe waited on the bank anxiously. When she came up she looked very happy. “It is perfectly lovely!” she cried. “It is the finest place for a home I ever have seen. Let’s begin to make it right away, Little Joe!”

Little Joe didn’t wait for her to change her mind. He remembered how many times Polly Chuck had changed her mind before Johnny Chuck succeeded in getting her to let him dig their home under the old apple tree in the far corner of the Old Orchard. “We’ll begin right off,” said he. And that is just what they did do.

Now you know Little Joe Otter can stay under water a long time. Mrs. Joe showed him just where she wanted the front door, deep down under water. Then they took turns making a long, nice hallway, slanting up from that under-water doorway. When it was high enough to be wholly above water they made the nicest little room, and then began a doorway which would lead out between two roots of the big tree. At first they didn’t open this doorway, because you see they had no need of it. They just made the hall and left the door closed, so there wasn’t a thing to show where their home was. When they wanted to go out, they just slid down their front hallway into the little pool and then swam clear across it before they came up. This was so that if any sharp eyes happened to see them, they never would guess where they had come from. When it was all done, they had just the best time ever.

CHAPTER IV
PETER RABBIT LEARNS BY SITTING STILL

By sitting still may much be learned

And thus be useful knowledge earned.

Little Joe Otter.

Do you know that you can learn things by sitting perfectly still? You can. That is, you can if you use your eyes and use your ears and all the other senses that Old Mother Nature has given you. Peter Rabbit discovered it quite by accident. You know how curious he is. It seems as if his curiosity never can be satisfied.

On the day that Little Joe Otter invited him to call at his home and then promptly disappeared, Peter could think of nothing but that home, and wonder where it was. Whenever he got the chance he went over to the Green Forest to look for Little Joe and his home. He had hopped up and down the banks of the Laughing Brook until his feet ached, and he was just as wise as before.

At last one day, he sat down just a little way from a great big tree with spreading roots near the bank of a little pool in the Laughing Brook. He was tired. Also he was discouraged. “I don’t believe Little Joe has a home at all,” he muttered. Then, because he was tired, he squatted down in a little brown heap and closed his eyes. How long he slept Peter never knew. When he awoke it was very, very still there in the Green Forest. He felt rested and therefore in a better frame of mind. He decided he would sit there a little longer and enjoy his beautiful surrounding’s before going back to the dear Old Briar-patch.

Now when Peter sits perfectly still, he is very hard to see. He looks like nothing so much as a little brown heap of dead leaves, and that was the way he was looking then. But all the time he was watching this way and that way to see what he could discover. Quite without any warning at all there was a rustling of leaves between two of the roots of the old tree a little way off. Peter didn’t have to turn his head to look. You see, his eyes are set so far back that he can see without turning his head. What he saw made him catch his breath and open his eyes wider than ever. What do you think it was? Why it was a little brown baby rolling and tumbling in the leaves!

Peter had never seen a baby like it before. While he was watching and wondering whose baby it could be, another joined it. They tumbled and rolled over each other. They played tug-of-war with a little stick, each holding one end. They made believe bite each other. It was very rough play, but the rougher it was the better they seemed to like it. Peter watched them for a long time. Then, because he had a cramp in one of his feet, he moved ever so little, and in doing so he rustled the leaves. Instantly the two brown babies disappeared as if the earth had swallowed them up. Peter waited, but they didn’t appear again.

At last his curiosity proved too much for him. He hopped over to the spreading roots of the old tree and there was the nicest little doorway he had ever seen. He knew then where the two brown babies had disappeared.

“I wonder,” muttered Peter, “whose babies those were. I wonder—” A sudden thought popped into his head. It made him jump right up in the air. “Do you suppose that those could have been Little Joe Otter’s babies?” he exclaimed right out loud to nobody in particular. Then, because he was so full of his discovery, he scampered away to the dear Old Briar-patch to tell Mrs. Peter all about it.

One morning he saw Mrs. Joe out with the two babies. [Page 28].

CHAPTER V
A SCHOOL IN THE GREEN FOREST

It is Old Mother Nature’s rule

For every one to go to school.

Little Joe Otter.

Peter Rabbit could not keep away from the Green Forest. No, Sir, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. You see, having discovered those two queer, brown babies under a big tree on the bank of the Laughing Brook, he just had to go back there every chance he could get to watch them. So, whenever he could, he slipped over there to watch. He kept as still as still could be, and not once did those little brown babies suspect that he was near. Every day they came out to play, but at the least sound they would disappear in that snug home, the doorway of which was between the roots of the big tree.

After a little Peter discovered that there was a school in the Green Forest, just as there was a school at Johnny Chuck’s home in the Old Orchard, and another where Danny Meadow Mouse had his home on the Green Meadows. You see, wherever there are babies there has to be a school. This is one of the laws of Old Mother Nature. Peter had been quite right when he had guessed that these babies were the children of Little Joe Otter. At first they seemed to do nothing but tumble over each other and play; it was very rough play, the roughest play, that Peter ever had seen. He didn’t guess that in that play those two brown babies were learning something, but they were. They were learning how to use their legs and teeth and bodies.

At first Peter had seen nothing of Little Joe Otter or Mrs. Joe, but he noticed that at the least rustle of a leaf the two brown babies disappeared in their home, and by this he knew that they had been taught that great law of all the little wild people, which is that safety is the first and most important lesson to be learned.

Then one morning he saw Mrs. Joe out with the two babies, and they were having a grand frolic. Mrs. Joe would get hold of one end of a stick and the two little Otters would get hold of the other end of the stick and try to pull it away from her. In this way they were learning how to grow strong and to take care of themselves.

Then Mrs. Joe took them a little way into the woods. It just happened that Reddy Fox had been along that way the night before. She showed them his tracks and made them smell of them, and when she did this she growled, and thus they knew that Reddy was an enemy to be watched out for.

Later, right in the midst of one of their grand frolics, Sammy Jay suddenly began to scream. Peter knew perfectly well what that scream meant. He knew by the noise that Sammy had discovered somebody in the Green Forest. Of course Mrs. Otter knew, and right away she chased her two brown babies into their home and followed them. Thus they learned that a screaming Jay is a warning to watch out for danger.

One thing puzzled Peter very much. He knew that Little Joe Otter lives in the water most of the time, and that of course Mrs. Joe does the same thing. “I wonder why those youngsters are not taught to swim,” thought Peter. “I should suppose that a swimming lesson would be one of the very first things they would get.”

Peter puzzled over this a great deal as one day followed another and still the Otter babies never once went near the water. They grew fast, and had the very best times ever were, but always on the land. In fact, Peter suspected by the way they acted that they didn’t like the water any better than he did, and you know he doesn’t like it at all. Mrs. Otter, and sometimes Little Joe, brought them fish to eat, and sometimes their mother took them on little short hunting trips, but always on the land. It was too much for Peter; it seemed to him that those Otter children were being brought up altogether wrong.

CHAPTER VI
THE FIRST SWIMMING LESSON

You’ll never learn to float on sand,

Nor swim by staying on the land.

Little Joe Otter.

One morning Peter Rabbit was a little late in getting over to the home of Little Joe Otter. When he got there, there was not a sign of the two brown Otter children at the doorway of their home between the roots of the big tree. “It must be,” thought Peter, “that they have gone off hunting. I wonder if I can find them if I look for them.”

Just then his ears caught the sound of splashing in the Laughing Brook. Very, very carefully Peter crept over where he could see what was going on. Such a funny sight as it was! There in the water were Little Joe and Mrs. Joe, diving and swimming and splashing as only they can. On the bank were the two Otter children, watching with their eyes round with wonder, and a great longing. At the same time it was very clear to Peter that those two youngsters were afraid of the water. Little Joe and Mrs. Joe kept calling to them to come in, but they wouldn’t.

No, Sir, those little Otters wouldn’t more than wet their feet. Mrs. Joe swam over to where they were and coaxed them, as only a mother can. It was of no use. All the coaxing in the world couldn’t overcome their fear of the water. Then she pretended to be very angry, and she ordered them to follow her. They whimpered and cried, but not one step into the water would they go. Then she tried making fun of them, but she was no more successful than before.

They were afraid. Yes, Sir, they were afraid. There was no doubt about it. Peter doesn’t like the water himself, but when he has to he can swim. He couldn’t remember ever having been as much afraid of the water as those two Otter children, not even when he was a very little fellow. And that seemed funny, too. In fact, Peter couldn’t understand it at all. Here were two babies whose father and mother were among the best swimmers in the world, and yet they couldn’t get their two youngsters into the water.

Finally, with a great deal of coaxing, Mrs. Otter got one of them to take a ride on her back. Then she gave the other a ride. For a long time they swam around and around, and had a beautiful time. The babies liked this. You see, they felt perfectly safe, and it was great fun to be carried about, here and there and everywhere. Then, without the least bit of warning, while both babies were on her back Mrs. Joe dived. Now of course when she did this, it carried the two babies right under water, and the minute they went under water they let go and came to the top.

My, my, my, what a frightened pair they were! They blew the water out of their noses, and both began to whimper and cry. But at the same time both began to paddle as fast as ever they could.

Little Joe and Mrs. Joe popped their round brown heads out of water and swam just ahead of the two babies. The two babies did their very best to get on the backs of Little Joe and Mrs. Joe. But the latter kept just out of their reach. Then one of the babies stopped crying. He had discovered something; he had discovered that he was swimming, and that swimming was really great fun. Somehow that water didn’t seem so dreadful any more. Then the other discovered the same thing. They had had their first swimming lesson and had found that mother and father were right after all; the water wouldn’t hurt them. When at last they scrambled up on the shore and shook the water from their little brown coats, their eyes were shining with pride and excitement.

CHAPTER VII
GREAT FUN ON A SLIPPERY SLIDE

Many lessons learned in play

You’ll find a use for every day.

Little Joe Otter.

Of course Peter Rabbit hadn’t been able to keep to himself the fact that Little Joe Otter had a home and wife and two lively babies. He just had to tell the other Quaddies. Those who dared, and could go so far into the Green Forest, visited the little pool in the Laughing Brook. But they were very quiet about it. You see, though they were not exactly bashful, they had a feeling that Little Joe might not like visitors, and most of them had a great deal of respect for Little Joe’s sharp, strong teeth. No one willingly quarrels with Little Joe Otter. Sammy Jay, of course, had nothing to fear in the tree tops, but soon discovered that as soon as it was known that he was about, there was nothing to see. So after that Sammy came silently and took the greatest care to keep hidden in the thickest part of a hemlock tree, but one from which he could peep forth and see all that was going on below. And so Sammy watched the merriest sliding party he ever had seen.

Sammy had flown over there very early that morning. So far, he had had no more than a glimpse of the Otter children. He knew all about the children of Peter Rabbit and Johnny Chuck and Danny Meadow Mouse. He had watched them learn the lessons which it was most important for them to learn if they would live to grow up. He had watched them at play as well as at school. But of the ways of Little Otters he knew nothing at all.

As he sat in the tall hemlock tree and looked down he felt quite excited. Somehow he had a feeling—he didn’t know why—that he was going to see something worth seeing. So he waited patiently. It was very beautiful there in the Green Forest. The Laughing Brook was dimpling and smiling where the sunbeams crept through the tree tops to kiss it, and it sang merrily as it hurried on to the Smiling Pool. Somewhere deeper in the Green Forest was Melody the Wood Thrush pouring out his joy in silver notes that made glad the hearts of all who heard. Listening, Sammy was almost jealous. “If I had as beautiful a voice as that to go with my beautiful coat there would be no one in the world to compare with me,” he thought, quite forgetting that a beautiful character is far more to be desired than a beautiful voice or a beautiful coat. A splash in the still little pool below him reminded him what he was waiting for. Eagerly he peered down. Little Joe Otter was just swimming towards the shore, and at the top of the bank where it was steepest and smoothest were Mrs. Joe and the two Otter children.

Mrs. Joe stretched herself flat, gave a kick with her feet, and away she slid, headfirst down the bank and splash into the water. The two children poked their heads over the edge of the bank and it was very plain that they wanted to follow but didn’t quite dare.

“Come on, children!” cried Mrs. Joe, splashing and diving and swimming round and round.

But still the youngsters were afraid. By this time Little Joe had climbed back up the bank. “This is the way to do it,” said he, and down the bank he went, splash into the pool.

One of the youngsters stretched himself out at the top of the slide as he had seen Little Joe and Mrs. Joe do, but he couldn’t quite make up his mind to kick off. Right then something so funny happened that Sammy Jay nearly gave himself away by laughing right out. The other little Otter just gave the first one a push and down he went. You see, when he once started he couldn’t stop. He clawed and tried frantically to stop, but down he went, splash into the water. It was very, very funny. It was still more funny to see his face when he came up and shook the water from his eyes. He was proud and excited and he had lost all fear. In another minute he was scrambling up the bank to try it again.

He had gone down the slippery slide five times before the other had found courage enough to try it. And then such fun! First Little Joe Otter, then Mrs. Joe, and after her the two youngsters, one right at the heels of another, slid down and splashed into the little pool until they were so tired that they just had to lie down to rest. Never was there such fun. Sammy Jay was almost envious again.

CHAPTER VIII
FARMER BROWN’S BOY HAS NO LUCK

Oh, who would not a-fishing go—a-fishing go—a-fishing go?

Oh, who would not a-fishing go all on a summer’s day?

Oh, who would not a-fishing go—a-fishing go—a-fishing go?

Oh, who would not a-fishing go where fishes sport and play?

Little Joe Otter.

Farmer Brown’s boy with his rod and a can of worms was making his way to the Laughing Brook. He felt good all over, did Farmer Brown’s boy. He felt good because it was the kind of a day to make any one feel good. And he felt good because it was a holiday for him and he knew that he had earned it. He had worked hard in the hayfield for days and days, and in the cornfield and in the garden, and never once had he complained. You see, he knew that the work just had to be done. That morning at breakfast Farmer Brown had given him a surprise. It was such a splendid surprise! He had told him that that day was to be his very own in which to do just what he wanted to do. Do you wonder that he felt good all over?

The very first thing he thought of was fishing. He just knew that the speckled trout were waiting for him to catch them. And now he was on his way with a lunch in his pocket and joy in his heart, so much joy that it was bubbling out in the merriest of whistles. As he made his way through the Green Forest to the Laughing Brook, it seemed to him that all the little people he saw by the way were glad because he was glad.

Now there was a certain quiet pool deep in the Green Forest where Farmer Brown’s boy was certain he would find hungry trout. He hadn’t the smallest doubt of it. More than once he had looked down in that clear pool and seen big trout there, and he was sure he would find them there now. So he headed straight for this particular pool. When he was near enough he put a fat worm on his hook and dropped it in the water. He didn’t doubt that it would be taken at once by a fat, hungry, speckled trout.

“I ought to catch at least three in this pool,” said he to himself, and waited, keeping perfectly still. Nothing happened. Farmer Brown’s boy moved the bait about in the most enticing way he knew how, and still nothing happened. He didn’t get so much as a nibble.

“This is queer,” muttered Farmer Brown’s boy. “I never have had to wait so long for a bite in this pool before.” He continued to keep perfectly still, as a good fisherman should, and waited patiently. Still there wasn’t a nibble. Presently, having nothing else to do, he began to take note of things, the trees, the flowers, the humming insects and at last the opposite bank, which was steep and smooth.

“Looks as if something had been sliding down there,” he muttered. “Wonder what it could have been. Funny the trout don’t bite. I hate to give up, but guess I’ll have to. I’ll go down to the next pool and try my luck there.”

So he trudged down to the next pool and a pair of sharp eyes watched him go. They were the eyes of Sammy Jay, and Sammy was chuckling under his breath. You see, he knew why Farmer Brown’s boy had caught no fish. The pool which he had just left was the very pool in the bank of which Little Joe Otter and Mrs. Otter had their home, and now there were no fat trout there. Little Joe and Mrs. Joe had caught all of them. They are especially fond of trout.

But Farmer Brown’s boy knew nothing of this. In fact, he knew very little about Little Joe Otter anyway. So he trudged on, sure that he would have better luck in the next pool. Sammy Jay followed, still chuckling. He seemed to find something a great joke.

“There are smarter fishermen in this brook than you, and I wouldn’t give much for all the fish you will catch,” he remarked to no one in particular. But he was looking at Farmer Brown’s boy, who still had no luck.

CHAPTER IX
A FAMILY FISHING PARTY

’Tis vain to sit and wish and wish

When fishing where there are no fish.

Little Joe Otter.

Farmer Brown’s boy hadn’t had one bite, not one teeny, weeny nibble, and he really didn’t know what to make of it. Many times had he fished in the Laughing Brook but never before with quite such bad luck as this.

“Fishy, fishy, here’s a worm!

Watch how he will twist and squirm!

Bite him first before you look

To see if he is on a hook.”

Farmer Brown’s boy said this over twice as he tossed his bait into the second little pool. Then he waited. He waited and waited and waited! All good fishermen wait and wait and wait. To catch fish patience is as necessary as bait. So Farmer Brown’s boy waited. Nothing happened; nothing at all.

“I wonder if some one has been here before me and caught all the trout,” thought he. “I didn’t get a nibble at the first pool and I haven’t had a nibble at this pool. Guess I’ll have to move on.”

So he moved on towards the third pool a little farther down the Laughing Brook. He had almost reached it when he heard a splash and then another splash. He put down his rod and crept forward very, very carefully, so as to make no sound. When he could see the little pool clearly he caught his breath. Other fishermen were ahead of him. In fact, a family fishing party was right in that very pool and having better luck, much better luck, than he had had. The members of that party were catching fish, the very trout he had been so sure of catching when he started out. These were the ones who had spoiled his fishing. Have you guessed who they were? They were Little Joe Otter, Mrs. Joe and the little Otters.

Farmer Brown’s boy kept perfectly still and held his breath. He forgot all about his own fishing. He had seen Little Joe only once or twice before, and then had caught only a glimpse of his brown head in the Smiling Pool. Of course he had never seen Mrs. Joe or the two children.

Little Joe dived. He was gone so long that Farmer Brown’s boy began to wonder what had become of him. Suddenly his brown head popped up and in his mouth was a beautiful, speckled trout, a trout that Farmer Brown’s boy would have been delighted to have caught.

“Gee!” exclaimed Farmer Brown’s boy under his breath.

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.

Now it just happened that that very morning Old Man Coyote had taken it into his head to visit the Laughing Brook and see what was going on there. It may be that in the back of that shrewd head of his was an idea there might be some helpless young babies or headstrong and careless young children of one kind or another who would furnish him with a tender and easily gotten breakfast. Anyway, he was going up the Laughing Brook and Farmer Brown’s Boy was going down the Laughing Brook. Of course they met. However, Farmer Brown’s boy didn’t know it. He didn’t know a thing about it. You see, he was so intent on fishing that he had no eyes for anything but the water and his fishing line. So he didn’t see Old Man Coyote. But Old Man Coyote saw him and lifted his lips from his long, strong teeth in a most unpleasant manner as he sneaked past through the brush.

“Probably he has frightened everybody along the Laughing Brook,” grumbled Old Man Coyote bitterly, as he went on his way.

But he had gone only a short distance after passing Farmer Brown’s boy when his sharp ears heard a faint splash in a little pool just ahead. Instantly he dropped flat on his stomach and began to crawl forward an inch at a time, his eyes blazing with eagerness and his pointed ears cocked forward. Presently he saw Little Joe Otter and Mrs. Joe swimming, and a great disappointment swept over him. He knew that they were far too smart to be caught by him.

A moment later he saw the two young Otters. All his disappointment was forgotten and the eager look returned to his eyes. He couldn’t imagine anything more to his liking than young Otter. His mouth watered. He licked his lips hungrily. Inch by inch he crept nearer. One of the young Otters climbed up the bank almost in front of him. Old Man Coyote wriggled nearer. He brought his hind feet under him, ready for a quick spring. Then he waited. He wanted that young Otter, but he was too crafty to risk a fight with Little Joe Otter and Mrs. Joe unless he had to. So he waited.

Presently Little Joe and Mrs. Joe called the two children and started down the Laughing Brook. The young Otter in the water obeyed instantly, but the one on the bank didn’t. He was tired and he wanted to rest. The others could go if they wanted to, for they wouldn’t go far and he could soon catch up with them. He rather liked the idea of being left alone. It made him feel more independent. There was nothing to fear. So he sat still and watched the others disappear around a turn in the Laughing Brook. When they were out of sight he chuckled. He thought himself very smart.

A very tiny noise behind him, the rustle of a leaf, caused him to turn his head. He had just time to get a glimpse of fierce, yellow eyes and gleaming teeth. Then the paws of Old Man Coyote landed on him. He was caught!

CHAPTER XI
SAMMY JAY CALLS FARMER BROWN’S BOY

In danger there is good excuse

For putting any tongue to use.

Little Joe Otter.

The foolish little Otter, who hadn’t minded his father and mother but had remained behind on the bank of the little pool in the Laughing Brook, didn’t have time to even squeal before Old Man Coyote had him. Old Man Coyote didn’t kill him at once, as he might have done with one crunch of his great jaws. He wanted to play with him a little first.

Now, though Old Man Coyote thought that no one saw him, some one did. It was Sammy Jay. Sammy had been following the Otter family, keeping very still and taking the greatest pains to keep out of sight himself. You see, he was very much interested in those Otter children and he thought it great fun to watch them having their first lessons in fishing. So he was right where he could see perfectly what happened. The instant Old Man Coyote sprang from his hiding-place Sammy knew that the little Otter hadn’t a chance in the world unless he could do something. Right away he remembered Farmer Brown’s boy fishing just a little farther down the Laughing Brook. “Perhaps,” thought Sammy, “if I scream loud enough and long enough, he will come to see what all the fuss is about.”

So Sammy opened his mouth and began to scream at the top of his lungs. “Thief! Thief! Thief!” he screamed, flying down just over Old Man Coyote’s head.

Old Man Coyote looked up and snarled angrily. “Stop your noise!” he snapped. “This is none of your business.”

“Thief! Thief! Thief!” screamed Sammy louder than ever.

Now the very instant that Sammy began to scream Little Joe Otter and Mrs. Joe, who were just around a turn in the Laughing Brook, knew that an enemy was near. For the first time they missed the little Otter who had remained behind. Little Joe didn’t wait a second. He started back as fast as he could swim, which is very fast indeed. Mrs. Joe followed as soon as she had seen that the other little Otter was in a safe hiding-place.

Old Man Coyote was still snarling at Sammy Jay when he saw Little Joe coming, and behind him Mrs. Joe. He knew then that he was to have a fight, but he had no intention of giving up that little Otter. He backed away, dragging the little Otter with him and showing all his great teeth in ugly snarls. Meanwhile Sammy Jay kept up his screaming. Of course Farmer Brown’s boy heard it. He stopped fishing to listen. He knows the ways of Sammy Jay, does Farmer Brown’s boy.

“Something going on back there,” he muttered. “Wonder what it is. Sammy doesn’t scream like that unless he is terribly excited. Guess I’ll have to see what it all means.”

He laid his rod down, leaving the bait in the water. Very carefully he tiptoed back to where Sammy was making such a racket. He was just in time to see Little Joe and Mrs. Joe rushing at Old Man Coyote, who was growling and snarling, while with his two fore feet he held down the whimpering little Otter. Farmer Brown’s boy didn’t stop to think. He just opened his mouth and yelled. Then picking up a stick he rushed forward.

Old Man Coyote didn’t wait for him to get there. At the sound of that yell he jumped as if he had been shot. Then he turned and vanished like a shadow in the brush. Little Joe Otter and Mrs. Joe had been almost as much frightened as Old Man Coyote, and they ran too. But they didn’t run far. Oh, my, no! Their love was too strong for that. They dived into the little pool, but almost at once their brown heads appeared again, as they turned to see what new danger threatened their darling.

As for the latter, he was too badly frightened to move. He growled feebly in a very frightened way as Farmer Brown’s boy picked him up.

“You poor little thing,” said Farmer Brown’s boy gently. “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

But the little Otter couldn’t understand a word and just shivered with fear. At first Farmer Brown’s boy thought that he would take the little fellow home for a pet. Then he looked down into the little pool straight into the eyes of Mrs. Joe, and he saw there such a look of anxious love and longing that he marched straight down to the edge of the water and gently put his little captive in it. Then he laughed and the laugh was good to hear as the little fellow dived and swam out to join his parents as fast as ever he could, and all three promptly disappeared. When he got back to where he had left his rod something was tugging at the line. It was the biggest trout he ever had caught.

CHAPTER XII
PETER RABBIT FINDS A QUEER TRAIL

Who seeks shall learn

And knowledge earn.

Little Joe Otter.

Summer had passed and winter had brought the first snow. Peter Rabbit likes snow. That is, he likes it if there isn’t too much of it. Sometimes, when it is very deep, Peter has a hard time getting enough to eat. But when it isn’t too deep he likes it. You see, Peter is full of curiosity, and when there is snow on the ground and it isn’t crusted over, he is able to learn many things about his neighbors. All he has to do is to follow their tracks to find out where they have been and what they have been doing.

So with the coming of the first snow Peter hurried over to the Green Forest, and as soon as he got there he began to look for tracks. The first he found were the dainty little footprints of Whitefoot the Wood Mouse. They were almost as dainty as the tracks of birds. He followed them until they were joined by bigger tracks. Then Peter stopped. He suddenly lost interest. You see, those bigger tracks he recognized right away. They were the footprints of Reddy Fox. Peter decided that this was no place for him, for he knew that those footprints were made only a very short time before.

So away went Peter in quite another direction. Presently he found footprints very like his own, only very much bigger. They were the footprints of his cousin, Jumper the Hare. “I haven’t seen Cousin Jumper for a long time, so I guess I’ll see if I can catch up with him,” thought Peter.

He hurried, lipperty-lipperty-lip, following the trail of Jumper. It wound this way and that between the trees, and crossed and recrossed. Gradually it led towards the Laughing Brook. Suddenly Peter sat up and stared round-eyed at another trail that crossed the trail of Jumper. It was a queer trail. It was the queerest trail Peter ever had seen. There were footprints, but they were queer footprints. They were quite round, and following straight along with them was a little furrow in the snow. Peter guessed right away that this was made by a tail. That would mean that the maker of the tracks had short legs.

Right away Peter forgot all about his cousin, Jumper the Hare. He was all curiosity to find out who had made this queer trail. He turned and followed it. Presently he came to where there was a gentle slope. There the footprints ended, but there was a long furrow clear down to the bottom of the slope. It was as if something had been pushed or dragged down the slope through the snow.

Peter hurried on. At the bottom of the slope he found the footprints again. He noticed that this trail always followed the easiest way. It never led over logs or stumps, but always around them. By and by he came to another of those long furrows in the snow. He stopped to study it. He scratched a long ear with a long hind foot. He scratched the other long ear with the other long hind foot. He was puzzled. He was very much puzzled. He didn’t know what to make of this long furrow without any footprints.

“The only way to find out,” he decided, “is to catch up with the one who has made this trail.” So he hurried on, lipperty-lipperty-lip. And so at last he came to the top of a steep bank at the bottom of which ran the Laughing Brook. Beginning at the top of this bank was another one of those queer furrows. It ended down below at the edge of the water. Peter looked across the Laughing Brook. He could see no trail on the other side. He looked everywhere, but could see no signs of that trail. It simply ended right there at the Laughing Brook.

CHAPTER XIII
CURIOSITY IS SATISFIED

The curious to gratify,

You first will have to satisfy.

Little Joe Otter.

Peter Rabbit sat at the top of the steep bank of the Laughing Brook in the Green Forest, as puzzled a Rabbit as ever lived. The queer trail he had followed ended in this long furrow straight down the steep bank to the water. Peter hadn’t the least idea who had made that queer trail. So he sat there, staring all about rather foolishly, and now and then scratching a long ear with a long hind foot.

“Hello, Peter Rabbit! Isn’t this great weather? Don’t you just love it? I do,” said a voice.

Peter stared all around, everywhere but in the right direction. Finally he just happened to look down in the black, cold water of the Laughing Brook. There in the very middle of it he saw a brown head with a pair of bright eyes full of mischief looking up at him.

“Little Joe Otter!” cried Peter. “Goodness, how you startled me! I couldn’t tell where that voice came from. Yes, this is fine weather. I like it too. But I hope it won’t get any colder.”

“I don’t care how cold it gets,” declared Little Joe Otter. “By the way, what brings you over here to the Laughing Brook?”

That reminded Peter of the queer trail that had so puzzled him. “Some one, I haven’t the least idea who, has been traveling about in the Green Forest, and has left the queerest trail I’ve ever seen,” said he. “In parts of it there are no footprints at all; there is just a long furrow in the snow. Here is one of those furrows right down this bank.”

Little Joe Otter’s bright eyes twinkled. “That is queer,” said he. “Now who under the sun do you suppose could have made it?”

“That’s what I want to know,” declared Peter. “But I guess I’ll have to keep on wanting, for I don’t see that trail coming out of the water anywhere.”

“I’ll have to have a little closer look at that. I’ll join you in a minute,” said Little Joe Otter.

He swam swiftly up the Laughing Brook and came out of the water where the bank was low. Then he made his way around up to where Peter was sitting. “That is a queer trail,” said he, trying to keep his eyes from twinkling. “It looks to me as if some one had slid down there. I tell you what, Peter, let’s slide down, too, and see how it seems.”

“No, thank you,” replied Peter promptly, and backed away in a rather undignified manner. Just looking at that cold, black water made him chilly.

“Oh, come on, Peter! It is the greatest fun in the world!” cried Little Joe, and giving a quick, hard push with his hind feet he glided right down that furrow flat on his stomach straight into the water. Peter looked over at the trail Little Joe had made getting up there. Then in a flash he understood. That trail which had puzzled him so was made by Little Joe Otter himself. He had made those queer furrows by sliding on his stomach in the same way that he had gone down that bank. Peter gave a happy little sigh. His curiosity was satisfied.

CHAPTER XIV
THE COASTING PARTY

Who fun in life himself denies

Becomes a grouch before he dies.

Little Joe Otter.

Peter Rabbit was so tickled over having discovered who made the queer trail in the snow that he quite forgot to look down in the Laughing Brook to see where Little Joe Otter went to. When he did think to look, Little Joe was nowhere to be seen. Peter waited awhile, hoping that Little Joe would return. He wanted to see him slide down that bank again.

At last Peter decided that Little Joe had gone home, and that there was no use sitting on the snow-covered bank of the Laughing Brook any longer. He was just turning away when he heard a splash from the Laughing Brook. He stopped to look up stream. At once he saw four swimmers coming down the Laughing Brook and appearing to have no end of fun as they rolled over in the water, dived, swam under water, and moved swiftly along, with just their heads showing. They were Little Joe Otter, Mrs. Otter, and their two nearly grown children.

When they reached the place where Peter had first seen Little Joe climb out and up the bank, Little Joe made straight for shore. You remember that the bank was low there. Out he scrambled. Out behind him scrambled Mrs. Otter. Out behind her scrambled one of the young Otters, and out behind this one scrambled the other young Otter. Then, following the trail Little Joe had made in the snow, they came straight up along the bank towards where Peter was sitting. Peter suddenly felt bashful. He retreated rather hurriedly to the shelter of a snow-covered hemlock bough. He couldn’t help a suspicion that one of those Otters might suddenly think that a Rabbit dinner would taste good.

Little Joe led the way to the edge of the steep bank where Peter had watched him slide down. With a quick, hard kick of his hind feet he disappeared down that bank and a second later Peter heard a splash in the water. Then Mrs. Otter did the same thing, and the two young Otters followed. Peter remained right where he was. In a few minutes he saw Little Joe Otter coming back up the trail again. And behind him came Mrs. Otter and the two young Otters. “I do believe they’re going to slide again,” thought Peter. “I must get where I can watch them.”

So Peter crept out of his hiding-place and over to the edge of the bank, where from a safe distance he could watch Little Joe and his family. Again, flat on his stomach, Little Joe came sliding down that furrow in the snow straight into the Laughing Brook. One of the young Otters couldn’t wait for Mrs. Otter to go down in that same furrow and made a furrow of his own. The other followed right at his heels. Then there was a great swimming race to see who could get back to the low place on the bank first, and then another race through the snow to get to the top of the slide.

Such a merry coasting party as that was. Every time one of those Otters disappeared in the black, cold-looking water, Peter shivered. He just couldn’t help it. But there was no shivering on the part of Little Joe and his family. Not a bit of it! They appeared to enjoy those plunges into the water quite as much as they would have had it been a midsummer day. The more they slid the better the slide became and the faster they went.

“Come on and join us, Peter!” cried Little Joe, as he kicked off and went shooting down.

Peter shook his head. He did it a little wistfully. Those Otters were having such a merry time that Peter envied them. But every time he looked at that water, so cold and black, he shivered. The coasting part might be all right, but Peter preferred to try it where there was no water at the end of the slide.

Gentle Mistress Moon saw a queer procession.
[Page 95].

CHAPTER XV
LITTLE JOE AND MRS. JOE REACH A DECISION

To eager youth ’tis vain to preach;

Experience alone can teach.

Little Joe Otter.

Rough Brother North Wind and Jack Frost had been down from the Far North for some time now. The pond of Paddy the Beaver, the Smiling Pool, and the Laughing Brook, excepting where it ran swiftly, were covered with ice. The Green Meadows and the Green Forest and the Old Pasture were deep with snow. Only those who, like Johnny Chuck and Nimble Heels the Jumping Mouse and Striped Chipmunk and Bobby Coon, were asleep in their snug homes, or, like Paddy the Beaver and Jerry Muskrat, had plenty to eat close by their houses, had nothing to worry about. Those who had to hunt for their food were having a hard time of it. They always do in winter.

Little Joe Otter and his family had cause for worry. You know they live on fish. But now they were having to work as they never had before to get enough to eat. You see, they had been fishing so long in the Smiling Pool and along the Laughing Brook that fish were becoming scarce. It was the morning after the coasting party that Little Joe and Mrs. Otter went without breakfast that the two young Otters might eat.

“My dear,” said Little Joe, “this is the poorest fishing I have ever known. So much of the Laughing Brook is frozen over that only a few places are left in which we can fish. And we have already caught most of the fish in those places. We have got to do something about it.”

“I’ve been thinking that very thing,” replied Mrs. Otter. “Shall we take the youngsters down to the Big River?”

“I know of another brook, a bigger brook than this, which has deep spring holes in it, and many places where the water is swift and does not freeze. We might go there first,” said Little Joe.

“Is it far from here?” asked Mrs. Otter.

Little Joe admitted that it was very far from there. “But what of it?” said he. “It will give the youngsters a chance to see something of the Great World, and that will be good for them. When we reach that brook we can stay there as long as there is good fishing, and then follow it down to the Big River. Then we can come down the Big River and so back here to the Laughing Brook.”

Mrs. Otter thought this over for a few minutes. “Wouldn’t such a journey over land be dangerous?” she asked.

“Are you afraid?” asked Little Joe.

“Not for myself,” snapped Mrs. Otter rather sharply. “It is the children I am thinking of.”

“They’ve never been in any real danger,” said Little Joe. “It would be a good thing for them to make a journey on which they must watch out all the time. It would teach them how to take care of themselves.”

Mrs. Otter scratched her nose thoughtfully. “When do we start?” she asked very suddenly.

“To-night,” replied Little Joe promptly. “It will be moonlight to-night. Besides, the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll get a good meal.”

“You’re sure you know the way?” asked Mrs. Otter a bit doubtfully.

“Of course,” replied Little Joe. “Do you think I would propose going if I didn’t know the way?”

So it was decided that the Otter family would start on a journey that very night.

CHAPTER XVI
THE FUN OF TRAVELING

Who travels much will wiser be,

Provided he has eyes to see.

Little Joe Otter.

Gentle Mistress Moon, peeping down though the tops of the trees of the Green Forest, saw a queer procession going up the Laughing Brook to the pond of Paddy the Beaver, deep in the Green Forest. They were Little Joe Otter, Mrs. Otter, and the two nearly grown young Otters. Little Joe was leading, the others following in single file.

When they reached the pond of Paddy the Beaver they found it covered with smooth ice. The snow had fallen before the pond had frozen over. Little Joe made three or four jumps and then threw himself flat on his stomach and away he slid on the smooth ice. As soon as he stopped sliding he scrambled to his feet and did the same thing again. The others did just as he did. They squealed with delight. It was great fun. And it was surprising how fast they went across the pond of Paddy the Beaver. When they got to the other side the young Otters didn’t want to leave that pond. They wanted to slide some more.

But they had been well brought up, and when Little Joe promised them that they should have more sliding before they reached the end of their journey they said nothing more. Into the woods, plowing through the snow, Little Joe led the way. Every time there was a little slope he would slide down to the bottom. Of course all the others did the same. Sometimes where it was level he would make a few swift jumps and then slide on his stomach.

The young Otters were much excited. It was the first time they had been any distance from the Laughing Brook. Everything was strange and new and wonderful. They wanted to stop to examine everything. They startled Jumper the Hare, and as he bounded away the young Otters started after him and couldn’t understand why Little Joe and Mrs. Otter called them back. Mrs. Grouse whirred out from under a low hemlock tree and gave them a great fright. Both jumped at the roar of those stout wings. Then, as they saw that their father and mother hadn’t even turned their heads, they looked a little ashamed.

Little Joe Otter chose the easiest way. If he could slip under a log instead of climbing over it, he did so. When he couldn’t slip under it he went around it. But though he made a trail that was very winding, he always kept to a certain direction. It was clear that he knew exactly where he was heading for.

Now Otters have short legs, and traveling in the soft snow was tiresome, even though they could slide now and then. So at last the two young Otters began to lag a little. Traveling was becoming more work than fun. Little Joe knew just how they felt. He hadn’t forgotten his first journey when he was a youngster. So when at last he came to a great upturned tree, he dived into the snow and disappeared. In a moment he poked his head out of the hole he had made.

“We’ll stop here for a rest,” said he, and once more disappeared.

Mrs. Otter and the two young Otters followed him. They found him in the snuggest, warmest little cave under the roots of that old tree. It was just the place to rest and sleep. In two minutes those young Otters were curled up and sound asleep. Little Joe and Mrs. Otter talked for a few minutes, and then they, too, curled up.

CHAPTER XVII
YOWLER THE BOBCAT FOLLOWS

The opportunist oft succeeds

Because of trifles that he heeds.

Little Joe Otter.

Yowler the Bobcat, prowling about through the Green Forest, came across the trail of the Otter family. He didn’t have to use his nose to follow that trail. Any one with eyes could follow it. The instant he saw it Yowler knew who had made that trail.

“Huh!” muttered Yowler. “Little Joe Otter has started on his travels again. I wonder where he is going this time.”

Then Yowler, more from habit than anything else, put his nose down in that trail and sniffed. A surprising change came over him. He suddenly took great interest in that trail. He had smelled young Otters. Little Joe or Mrs. Otter he wouldn’t think of attacking. They were too big and strong, and he knew too well how they could fight. But a young Otter would be a different matter, even though he might be almost fully grown. Certainly this was a matter worth looking into.

So in his usual, sneaking fashion Yowler followed that trail. And at length he came to the big upturned tree and the hole in the snow that led down under the roots. Very gently Yowler sniffed. At once his nose was filled with the Otter scent. He grinned hungrily. Those Otters were down there asleep. It was a great temptation to dig down and try to surprise them. But Yowler knew better than to try this. He looked around. A short distance away was a big hemlock tree. Yowler circled around to it and climbed part way up. Then he crouched on a big limb and prepared to wait for those Otters to come out.

He didn’t have long to wait. He saw the head of Little Joe Otter pop out of that hole in the snow. Then Little Joe came out. He was followed by Mrs. Otter and then by the two young Otters. Yowler’s yellow eyes glowed hungrily as he noticed that one of these was smaller than the other.

Little Joe started off at once, and the others fell in behind him. Just as soon as he dared to, Yowler dropped down from that tree and began to sneak after them. It was surprising how fast those Otters traveled. But Yowler can travel fast, and it wasn’t long before he had them in sight. Then he moved more cautiously. He sneaked from tree to tree and took advantage of every stump and bush. For awhile the young Otters kept close to their parents. Then from time to time they dropped back, as they stopped to examine things that were new to them. Their curiosity satisfied, they would bound ahead to catch up.

“If that smallest Otter will just drop far enough behind so that I can get her alone, I think I’ll have an Otter dinner,” muttered Yowler. “Those youngsters have got to see everything that is to be seen. They are like all other youngsters, full of curiosity and heedless. They probably think they are quite able to take care of themselves. It certainly will be worth while to follow them for awhile. I haven’t anything better to do. Besides, I will go a long way for an Otter dinner.” He licked his lips and his mouth watered.

CHAPTER XVIII
THE SMALLEST OTTER IS WILFUL

The wilful and the heedless gain

Experience through fright and pain.

Little Joe Otter.

Little Joe and Mrs. Otter are wise in the ways and the things of the Green Forest. So, as they journeyed towards the distant brook they had planned to visit, their keen ears caught every little sound, and without bothering to investigate they knew just what had made each little sound. But with the two young Otters it was a very different matter. Everything was new and strange and therefore interesting. They wanted to stop and examine everything. Every time they heard a little noise off at one side they wanted to go over and find out what had made it.

Now Mrs. Otter is a good mother, a watchful mother. She kept a keen eye on the two young Otters. And every time they started off she called them back. She warned them that there were dangers in the Green Forest. She did her best to frighten them.

The smallest Otter was headstrong and wilful and heedless. She wanted to have her own way. “Mother is just trying to scare us,” she whispered to her brother. “I don’t believe there is any danger. We haven’t seen a single thing to be afraid of. She wants us to tag along at her heels and not have any fun. I want to see all there is to see. She can’t scare me. I’m not afraid of any one.”

So the smallest Otter kept dropping behind to examine everything that interested her. At the same time she kept a watchful eye on Mrs. Otter, and every time the latter turned to see where the youngsters were, the smallest Otter would go bounding along the trail, hurrying to catch up.

Her brother was more obedient. He sometimes dropped behind, but never as far behind as his sister. Mother Otter, seeing the obedient young Otter not far behind, would take it for granted that his sister was not far behind him, and so after a while she became a little less watchful. The smallest Otter soon discovered this, and then she dropped farther back than ever.

“I can’t get lost,” said she to herself, “because all I have to do is to follow this trail through the snow. I don’t care if they do get way ahead. I can catch up any time by hurrying. Now I wonder what that is. I am sure I saw something move under that little tree over to the right.”

She stopped and looked very hard at the young tree. The branches were bent down with snow. She couldn’t see under them. There was nothing moving there now. She looked up the trail. Little Joe and Mrs. Otter were out of sight, and her brother was just disappearing over the top of a little ridge.

“I’m sure I saw something move over there,” said the wilful young Otter, looking back at the little tree. “I’m sure I did. It won’t take but a minute to go over and find out. Mother always has said that we should learn all we can. How can we learn if we don’t try to find out about things? There certainly won’t be any harm in looking under that little tree.”

Once more she glanced along the trail. Her brother had disappeared. No one was in sight. Then she turned and bounded through the snow towards that little hemlock tree. She was going to satisfy her curiosity.