_Flash._--To say brightly, "Well, it couldn't have been _colder_ for an _otter_ hunt." The chilly boys hearing this, turn away, the man with the spear takes it literally and is offended, "because," he says, "we might ha' had a much worse day." PENDELL says to himself, thoughtfully. "Um--_colder_--_otter_--ha! Yes, I see. I've made that myself lots of times." I thought that down here, perhaps, it wouldn't have been known. Never risk an old joke again. If I feel it's the only one I've got, preface it by saying, "Of course you've heard what the Attorney-General said the other day to (some one)?" and then, if on being told, they say, "O! that's very old," why it's not your fault. A fly appears on the road with the Master. He welcomes PENDELL and friend heartily and courteously. Is sorry that it's the last meet. Thinks it's a bad day, and in the most genial manner possible damps all my hopes of seeing an otter. "A few weeks ago," he says, "there were plenty of otters." _Flash._--To find out if that spearing-picture is correct. Show myself deeply interested in otters. The Master says that spearing is unsportsmanlike. Damper number two. No spears. We walk on, and get a little warmer. More "Field" meets us: some mounted. _Note on Otter-Hunting._--Better than fox-hunting, because you trust to _your own_ legs. You can't be thrown, you can't be kicked off, or reared off; and, except you find yourself alone with the otter in a corner, there's no danger. _Note Number Two. Additional._--Yes, there is one other danger. A great one. Here it is:-- We have been walking miles along the banks of a stream, crossing difficult stepping-stones, climbing over banks eight feet high [thank goodness, impossible for horses], with drops on the other side, and occasional jumpings down, which shake your teeth, but still you land on _your own_ legs, and if you fall you haven't got a brute on the top of you, or rolling over you, or kicking out your brains with his hind hoofs. We number about sixty in the Field. The shaggy, rough hounds are working up-stream, swimming and trotting, and stopping to examine the surface of any boulder which strikes their noses as having been lately the temporary resting-place of an otter. A few people on horseback are proceeding, slowly in single file, along the bank. Difficult work for them. Ladies, too, are on foot, and all going along as pleasantly as possible. Suddenly a cry--a large dog is seen shaking its head wildly, and rubbing his front paws over his ears--another dog is rolling on the bank--another plunges into the river furiously, also shaking his head as if he was objecting to everything generally, and would rather drown than change his opinions. Another cry.