In
the morning the men said it was probably a rabbit jumping through
the low branches of the spruce tree.
We made a mile and a half that day, and towards evening halted at
the edge of a pretty little expansion in the river; it was the most
charming camp we had yet found. There were a number of tiny
islands here, some with a few trees, and some just the bare rock
with fringes of fresh green marking the fissures. The water
slipped over ledges into pretty pools, and from our camp to the
other side there was a distinct downward slope. My tent was
pitched about four feet from the water's edge above a little fall,
and directly over an otter landing.
George warned me, "You will have to keep your boots on to-night.
That otter might come along and get hold of your toes, and drag you
into the river."
"Would an otter really harm me?" I asked.
"Perhaps it might be a bear instead of an otter," he replied,
evading my question. "They are all great fellows for any kind of
metal. If it's a bear he'll just get hold of that screw on your
bed and take it right off. You'd better put a bullet inside, and
then when he takes off the screw it will blow into his mouth.
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