He caught sixteen fish in an hour, the biggest being three ounces in
weight; and then he climbed upon a slab of granite and dozed in the
sunlight. High above him a small bird was flying in sharp, irregular
flight, mounting high to swoop towards the marsh. Every time it swooped
it opened its tail against the rush of air, so that the feathers made
a sound between the bleat of a kid and a dove's cooing. Its mate was
flying near it. They were snipes, who had chosen for nesting-place a
rush-clump in the marsh, and Tarka had disturbed them. He lay still in
sleep, and they forgot that he was there, and flew down to find worms
by pushing their long bills into the juggymire. When the sun sank
behind the high tors, Tarka awoke and went down with the river. A small
bullock, with long, black, shaggy hair, was drinking by a gravelly
ford, and smelling the otter, it snorted and plunged away, alarming the
grazing herd.
At night the stars were shorn of their flashes and burning dully
through the cold vapour which drifted down from the hills. Everything
was moistened--sprigs and faded bells of heather, young ruddy shoots
of whortle-berry, mosses, lichens, grasses, rushes, boulders, trees.
Songlight rose grey and silent. When the sun, like an immense
dandelion, looked over the light-smitten height of Cosdon Beacon,
Tarka was returning along a lynch, or rough trackway, to the river.
The grasses, the heather, the lichens, the whortle-berry bushes, the
mosses, the boulders--everything in front of the otter vanished as
though drowned or dissolved in a luminous strange sea. The icy casings
of leaves and grasses and blades and sprigs were glowing and hid in a
mist of sun-fire. Moorfolk call this morning glory the Ammil.
The brimming light gladdened Tarka, and he rolled for several minutes,
playing with a shining ball he found in the grass--the old dropping of
a wild pony. Afterwards, running down to the water, he found a holt
under a rock. It was cold and wet inside, and Tarka always slept dry
when he could. He ran out again, liking the sun, and settled on a flat
rock in the warming rays.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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