They were young, you see--though not more foolish than lots
of sportsmen we hear about. In a very few minutes, of course, every
fish that could get away had got away as far as possible from that
deadly pool. And then the two reckless fishermen crawled ashore and
began a tug of war with a stick. They could just not help playing, you
see, any more than kittens or puppies could; though they were still
lonely and anxious. And in their play they kept very close to the
water's edge, in case the fox should happen along to inquire after
their parents.
"The fox did not turn up. But after some time they caught sight of a
great, dark bird winnowing his way slowly above the tree tops. Just to
be on the safe side, they got into the water so quickly that one of
them, to save time, threw himself in backwards. They did not know that
it was only a fishhawk, an amiable soul, quite indifferent to such
delicacies as young otters. Another thing they did not know was that
if the fishhawk _had_ wanted them, he could have caught them more
comfortably in the water than on shore.
"When the great bird was well out of sight they started off down
stream, partly to have another look for their lost parents, partly
because they had nothing better to do.
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