Down the bank now rushed the hunters, joined by Skookum, to attack the otters in the pool, for it was small and shallow; unless a burrow led from it, they were trapped.
But the otters realized the peril.

All six dashed out of the pool, down the open, gravelly stream the old ones uttering loud chirps that rang like screams.

Under the fallen logs and brush they glided, dodging beneath roots and over banks, pursued by the hunters, each armed with a club and by Skookum not armed at all.
The otters seemed to know where they were going and distanced all but the dog.

Forgetting his own condition Skookum had almost overtaken one of the otter cubs when the mother wheeled about and, hissing and snarling, charged.

Skookum was lucky to get off with a slight nip, for the otter is a dangerous fighter.