But at dusk she heard the bleating of the lambs, and the musical
note of a bell that had been slung round the neck of the patriarch of
the flock in order to deter foxes from meddling with the new-born
weaklings then under the big ram's care. She was made aware of the
presence of spring by the "scent in the shadow and sound in the light."
The hatching of countless flies in the leaf-mould was not watched by the
birds only: Lutra also knew that the swarms had arrived; and spring was
welcome if only for this.

For months she had fed on lean and tasteless trout exhausted by
spawning. Now, instead of lying under stones or haunting the deep basin
of the pool, the trout rose to the surface and wandered abroad into the
shallows. There the languid fish became fit for food again, and more
capable of eluding the occasional long, stern chases of the otter. But
Lutra was never disconcerted by the fact that the fish were strong and
active; as with all carnivorous creatures, her sporting instincts were
so highly developed that she revelled in overcoming difficulties,
especially because she felt her own strength growing from day to day.
During winter the trout had fed on worms and "sundries." Now, their best
and heartiest meals were of flies. Daily, at noon, swarms of ephemerals
played over the water, and the trout rose from the river-bed to feed. At
first they "sported" ravenously, rising quick and sure to any insect
their marvellous vision might discern. Afterwards they fed daintily,
disabling and drowning with a flip of the tail many an insect that
fluttered at the surface, and choosing from their various victims some
unusually tasty morsel, such as a female "February red" about to lay her
eggs. At this time, also, the plump, cream-coloured larvae of the
stone-fly in the shallows were growing within their well cemented
caddis-cases and preparing for maturity. So the trout fattened on
caddis-grubs and flies, and the otter-cub, in corresponding measure,
became sleek, well-grown, and spirited.

In the winter Lutra had imperceptibly acquired the habit of swimming and
diving across-stream, just as an old fox, when hunting in the woods,
quarters his ground systematically across-wind, and so detects the
slightest scent that may be wafted on the breeze. Nature had been
specially kind to her; she was fashioned perfectly, and in the river
reigned supreme. Her body was long, supple, and tapering; her brown fur
was close and short, so that the