Thus in the morning he set out. He knew the direction roughly, or more correctly, he sensed it instinctively. He was unaware of possessing this secret, yet he knew in which direction to go. Hobbling arduously on his webbed feet he made his way to the forest.

Udras reached the big lake by next morning after having caught some frogs and mice in the forest and having taken a couple of longer and several shorter rests to cool his aching feet.

No misfortunes had befallen him, the lynx had been who knows where and the otter had no other animals to fear. The fox had circled him once to investigate what kind of a thing this webbed-foot was, but, when he came nearer and the otter beared his big teeth, then the fox pulled the tail between the legs and tried to get quickly away.

Udras was greeted by the smell of the lake already in the forest and he sniffed it eagerly. This meant food and a new life! Those wretched frogs and mice the otter had caught in the forest hadn't been anything else than necessary snacks to remain alive. There had to be loads of fish in the lake! Udras recognised it already from the smell of the water.

When Udras stumbled onto the shore on his aching legs the sun was just rising from behind the forest and it cast a red path onto the surface of the lake. Although there was no wind the water rippled somewhat and the red path of sunlight on the water quickly turned golden yellow, then silvery and soon the entire surface of the lake was one big play of colours: there were pink, bluish and yellowish ruffles, which all melted together into a big bright-coloured carpet. The fish splashed in a playful manner on the surface of that carpet and this produced rippling circles that glittered and then slowly dispersed.

Two old bream had left their sleeping quarters—the reed-bed near the shore—and intended to swim to the edge of sand ripples where one could always find tasty bits for bream mouths—larvae of midges, worms, molluscs; they stopped, eyeing the beautiful morning, to exchange a few words.

"Hello, venerable Bulge-eye! Isn't it a lovely morning today? Did you sleep well?"

"Hello, venerable Broad-tail! The morning is beautiful. Look how clearly the water is ruffling! What a day it's going to be! Certainly one can expect a good catch now. Insects multiply well in such weather. And their eggs and larvae—those are very tasty snacks indeed. Isn't it true, right honourable Broad-tail! However, concerning sleep I must say: I slept badly!"

And the old bream Bulge-eye sighed, despite the weather and outlook being so good. Broad-tail answered:

"Neither did I sleep well. A gang of crayfish dawdling around at night gathered near my flat. Wretched loafers! Always at night they have to fuss about."

Old Bulge-eye sighed:

"Of course, of course. Those rascals apparently ate the whiskers of Black-ghost himself when he was asleep. Of Black-ghost himself, the biggest fish of the lake!"

"Indeed, indeed," Broad-tail nodded his tiny head attached to a big body. "You see my late grandmother told... "

But what his late grandmother had said Broad-tail had no chance to tell, as something shot out of the reeds like black lightning, grabbed Broad-tail in between his teeth and disappeared as quickly—who knows where.

"Wow!" screamed Bulge-eye and couldn't even move his tail out of fear. "Good gracious! What was that! And where is Broad-tail? Gone! Gone, as if the water has swallowed him! A black shadow, a black monster came... Could it have been Black-ghost himself, the old sheatfish?! Perhaps. Well, we did speak of him so badly. He probably listened in the reeds and now took Broad-tail for his meal. Yes, yes, this is how it probably was. Who else would be as big and black in this lake? Black-ghost took his revenge. But what a thing to do! Is one not allowed to say a few words! What manners! Well, I want to see to it!"

And having recovered from fear Bulge-eye quickly swam to deeper waters in the centre of the lake, where the bigger fish lived normally—old pike, perch, pike-perch, burbot, bream, roach and others. Older and bigger fish hardly ever went near the shores as there was not enough water for them there making it hazardous to move. Sleeping in the reed-bed had, as a matter of fact, been careless of Bulge-eye and Broad-tail and old fish wouldn't normally do it. Yet Bulge-eye and Broad-tail had always said that the water was supposedly better near the shore, exactly as people say the air is better near a window.

Bulge-eye appeared amongst other big fish and said agitatedly:

"Do listen, dear fellow-creatures and neighbours, what a foolish and impudent trick the old sheatfish Black-ghost contrived today! Just when I was talking to Broad-tail, this monster appeared from the reeds, snatched Broad-tail and disappeared! He has been sleeping till now day and night without moving a fin. But now, who knows what affected Black-ghost to commit such a cruel act. He should have carried on sleeping. After all we did not disturb his sleep. Poor Broad-tail!"

This story provoked different attitudes amongst the fish. Some thought that Black-ghost, being a big fish, had to eat something as well and Broad-tail had been just the right snack for him. Yet others thought that Broad-tail had been such an old and venerable citizen that to gobble him up, as if he were a bleak, was a very unseemly act indeed.

Just when this was being discussed a big tench appeared gasping in the assembly and announced that some kind of black monster had snatched his wife and taken her who knows where.

This was the limit!

"Black-ghost has lost his senses!" screamed Bulge-eye. "It was not so long ago that he snatched and gobbled up Broad-tail. And now already a tench too! What an appetite he has developed—before going to his death!"

A certain self-opinionated perch thought that big fish shouldn't after all live near the shore.

"You see," he said, "what's the result of it. Broad-tail slept near the shore. And he has vanished. Tenches do nothing but nose around in the mud of the shore all the time. This is the reason for this new trouble. Keep away from the shore! Then everything is alright. By now Black-ghost should have satisfied his appetite. And thus peace will return to the lake."

But soon a young perch arrived, frightened to death, to announce that the black monster had seized and taken away his father.

"Aha!" exclaimed Bulge-eye. "Did your father too swim near the shore?"

"No," answered the young perch. "He was far away from the shore, almost in the middle of the lake."

"Do you hear!" Bulge-eye said triumphantly. "The shore has nothing to do with it. Black-ghost has lost his senses, I must say! One must restrain him. Otherwise he'll gobble us all up. What a way to behave, to sleep for weeks and then suddenly start to empty the lake. Something needs to be done with him!"

Other fish thought the same now. Enough was enough. Never mind that Black-ghost was the biggest fish and that he hadn't eaten for weeks, he still needed to keep within bounds.

A troop of older and bigger fish swam to Black-ghost's residence to see what was the matter with him. Everybody was terribly afraid of Black-ghost, as he was the biggest of all. He could even eat a big pike if he wanted to as he was longer than several pike put together and sturdy as a big lump of stone. Two tiny spiteful eyes glistened in his head like two yellow lights in a deep hole of mud where he was lying. He was really black like a ghost—as the youngsters said—and his long whiskers were longer than some medium size fish.

Carefully the old fish approached the mudhole where the flat of the sheatfish was situated.

"Having had that much to eat today, he shouldn't touch us any more," thought the fearful roach.

However the old pike answered:

"Just let him try to touch me!"

Pike are of course very angry fish. But this time the pike's words were seen to be boasting.

"Maybe he isn't even at home yet... " ventured a sturdy burbot, also a rather anxious fellow. "How could he be at home when he is having such a hunting day... "

And the burbot hoped secretly the sheatfish would indeed not be there, as one never knows what could happen...

The sheatfish was at home after all. He lay in his mudhole like a big black lump of stone or a sunken tree trunk, not even stirring his fins. Only the long whiskers moved slightly like two worms—and Bulge-eye was thus convinced that the story about crayfish having eaten these whiskers when the sheatfish had been asleep, did not ring true.

The ambassadors stopped anxiously near the flat of the sheatfish, ready to bolt any time. No-one dared say a word, and the sheatfish, despite seeing the others very well, did not make a sound either.

Finally one of the pike cleared his throat and uttered: " ...Ahem! Excuse me, venerable sheatfish, that we dare trouble you during your lovely sleeping time... lovely sleeping time... and hunting time... and so... But... but... we have heard, that... that your hunt succeeded very well today... end that you caught a big bream... and a big tench and a big perch. And so we came to find oh... no, no, we came to congratulate you on your successful hunt and ask whether you intend to catch any more today—and so on... That we would not put any obstacles in your way... "

Suddenly the eyes of the sheatfish lit up like two yellow lights and his whiskers started to vibrate like reeds in high wind.

"What nonsense is this?" he thundered in his coarse bass-voice, as if coming from a deep cellar. "What kind of idle fancy is this? What hunt? What bream? What tench or perch? Have you all gone crazy or are you having dreams during daytime? I have been hunting? I? I haven't moved my fins out of this hole for three weeks. And you come and dare... ! See if I whack once with my tail! Such nonsense! Such impudence! Out!"

All the fish dashed away, scared. Yet they swam back again timidly. The old pike apologized:

"It's not us... We just... heard. A number of fish complained, lamented that you ate a lot of fish. That the fish of the lake are in danger. Such silly tales. You see, Bulge-eye the bream... Where is he himself?"

But Bulge-eye had disappeared from amongst the others who knows where.

"This Bulge-eye came and complained that you had eaten his friend bream Broad-tail... "

"I?!" shouted the sheatfish. "As surely as I lie here I'll indeed gobble up that Bulge-eye if I catch him! But about Broad-tail I know nothing," Black-ghost added more peacefully. "As I said I haven't left my flat for three weeks and I haven't had anything to eat since then Other. Well, hmm, never mind... If you don't believe me, it won't make me sad, as it's all the same to me... "

"Why should we not believe," exclaimed the fish respectfully. "Who else should we believe if not you? But who in that case is the black monster who snatched the bream, tench and perch?"

"What was this monster like?" inquired the sheatfish.

But nobody could describe him, even those who had seen him. Bulge-eye too, having found the courage to return to the others meanwhile, could not say anything else than that the monster who had snatched Broad-tail had been black...

"Black like you, sorry," said Bulge-eye down into the hole to the sheatfish.

"Black," rumbled the sheatfish crossly. "So you think that all who are black necessarily have to be sheatfish?! After all, eel is black, too."

"Well, yes, eel... If indeed he... " reckoned Bulge-eye. "But no, that monster was thicker, rounder. The eel is long and thin, isn't he? And he does not catch such big fish as Broad-tail. He is of the kind who does not eat fish at all... "

"Well, then perhaps some big burbot... " thought the sheatfish. "Burbots, too, are rather black and—perches."

But that burbot, a fearful old fellow, who was amongst the ambassadors started to explain:

"Well, no, what nonsense... Such talk won't do! Burbots don't eat bream, not to mention perch—those sharp-finned and hard-scaled fish. Don't eat them, don't want to! Burbots want tender stuff. Well, a frog is good or maybe a tender young bleak or so. Occasionally perhaps a crayfish, too, always the tail first and only then the claws. No, the burbots had no part in this, my word for it!"

The story was discussed one way and another, when suddenly with a big roar came the old salmon Salmo, a big stout fish, with a long tusk in the lower jaw. This was the only salmon in the lake. He had come here once during a flood via a stream that connected the lake with the river. He had travelled a lot in the world and had seen seas, rivers, lakes, and the kind of fish and beasts, of whose existence the inhabitants of the lake had not a clue. Often his stories were listened to with wonderment—and many of them were not taken seriously. For example, Salmo had recounted that in the sea there live mountain-like fish, that there are fish who have feet like animals and even some who fly like birds. Younger fish believed such stories, the older ones not so readily. Salmo, like an old seaman, was considered to be a teller of tall stories. And when he came now and gasped: "Just about managed to escape alive!" then many of them smiled knowingly to themselves, despite the events of the day having been extraordinary.

"In what way was your life in danger then?" they asked. "Surely you didn't see that black monster who has been talked so much about today?"

"Of course I saw him," answered Salmo. "And only just escaped alive. He followed me, but I know him from old times. And when we got to the reeds, then I turned suddenly and thrust my fang into the web of his foot. This scared him sufficiently to leave me in peace."

"Who is he then? A fish or one of those wonderbeasts you talk about?"

"He is no wonderbeast at all," replied Salmo calmly. "Just an ordinary otter. As he hasn't lived in this lake before, this is why you don't know him. But now take care! Nobody's life is safe any more! This beast eats many times more that the biggest pike. And even you, Black-ghost, are not safe from him."

"Well, well," laughed Black-ghost with a rumble." How big is that wonderbeast of yours then? The size of a horse perhaps? I have seen horses when they come to drink at the lakeside. Is your wonderbeast as big?"

"No," replied the salmon. "He is perhaps the size of a dog. We have often seen dogs near this lake too."

"The size of a dog!" spluttered the sheatfish laughing. "That would eat me! O, Salmo, Salmo, you are a big story teller! I am many times bigger than a dog and they are afraid of me as if a ghost, when they see me in the water. If your beast is likewise, then there will be no problem. I'll manage."

"As big as a dog indeed," replied the salmon. "Yet despite only being the size of a dog, he can eat more fish in one day than ten pikes together. And you, too, Black-ghost, he can eat you up within a few days."

All the fish laughed.

"Oh that Salmo! Always these stories... Well, of course, he who has seen a lot in the world, has a lot to tell. But carry on, what else do you know about this beast?"

Salmo was not at all of fended that he was not quite believed. He liked to tell stories. He said:

"You'll soon see for yourself whether I lied or not. Not only is this beast as big as a dog, he is also like a dog."

"Now! Now!" sounded a voice. "It isn't a fish?"

"No."

"Yet he is supposed to swim like a fish."

"He swims faster than a fish, but he is not a fish, He is like a dog. With four legs."

There was laughter.

"With four legs—and catching fish under water! Dogs have four legs too, but they don't dive underneath the water."

"Dogs don't catch anything under water, but this one does."

Nobody could say anything against this, as they all knew that it was true.

And so the days of horror began in the lake.

Ever more stories were told about some biggish fish, who had been caught and eaten by the four-legged beast. He did not touch the smaller ones and those could thus spy on him, though secretly, from behind some reeds or a shoreside bush.

Soon everybody noticed that despite being able to swim quickly in the water—like a duck, with webbed feet—the wonderbeast had to come to the surface like ducks from time to time. The fish did not know why he did that, as they, being able to breathe underneath the water, did not understand that the otter could not, despite his being able to swim in the water like a fish. By the way, the otter swam not quite like a fish or even like a duck, as he had four legs and he moved them as if running whilst swimming; fish swim with the help of fins and that looks rather different.

The frightening thing was that this terrible beast had big teeth of the kind that fish do not possess. The teeth of fish are small, needle-like, and they don't use them for eating, just for catching their prey and holding on to it; fish swallow their prey whole. But the otter's teeth were as big as these of any beast of prey, and he chewed and ground his food—fish—into smaller pieces with them, which was abominable and dreadful for the fish to see and know. The smaller fish, who saw often how Udras ate his prey, were terribly shaken by it and they shivered with horror whilst telling about it.

However, Udras felt very well in his new home. There was plenty of food and no enemies at all. There were people here, too, but as they did not know yet of the existence of an otter in this lake, they could not trouble him. From time to time fishermen came there with fishing-rods and nets, but those were anglers who lived far and who only seldom came to the lake. Therefore those fishermen, even if they had seen the otter, would not have had any real interest or desire to do anything more about him. Only the fisherman, living in a small house by the lake, was always there, this area was home for him and for that reason he was interested in what happened in the lake and to its inhabitants—the fish.

This fisherman hadn't noticed the existence of an otter in the lake either and this is why the otter had more or less unlimited freedom. There was no gamekeeper with a gun nor a dog.

Only the question of where to live troubled the otter. The shores of the lake were shallow and didn't lend themselves for an ideal nest—with an entrance from underneath the water. There were some holes and hollows underneath tree-roots, but those were totally out of water, and one had to enter them over dry land. Udras did not like that. He sensed that in case of danger, for example if a dog followed him, he would not find safety there as the dog could get in too. If the entrance was underneath the water then the dog could not intrude there.

Therefore Udras slept for the time being here and there, at times underneath some tree-roots, at others in between some stones, sometimes even in a bush in the forest. Right now he didn't have any enemies, nobody was following him. But sooner or later he had to find or build a decent nest for himself, that he knew for sure. At least in winter he had to have a nest into which he could get from underneath the water whilst air entered the nest from above. In winter the otter had to catch food under ice and when there were no holes or cracks in the ice, as often happened, he could only breathe in his nest.

Once strolling on the shore—stomach full and in a good mood—Udras noticed in the forest in a mound of sand holes leading into some kind of den. That was interesting.

The den was altogether on dry land and quite a way from water, but as it had several entrances, it could still perhaps be used temporarily. It would be possible, if followed, to leave the den secretly and escape into the lake. The pursuers couldn't after all keep their eyes on all the holes at once.

Udras put his head in through one hole and sniffed: was this den empty or not, and if there were some inhabitants then who would they be?

A foul stench met him and Udras knew immediately that it was a fox. Well, Udras was not afraid of the fox, he had seen that master before dawdling in the area of his old residence near the river and lately also on his relocation journey in the forest. Udras waddled slowly down towards the middle of the den and heard soon someone growl.

"What manners! This is my den! Out!"

But Udras smiled into his moustache and said:

"Well, well! So impolite towards a visitor!"

"What visitor!" the voice bawled from inside. "Such a fish-thief! I haven't invited you."

"Quiet, quiet," wheezed Udras. "A fish-thief! You call my honest catch stealing! You see, I have heard that you steal hens. A squirrel, who frequents inhabited places, told me about it once on the riverside."

"A squirrel, pooh!" came the reply from below. "What is a squirrel! I don't catch the like of him. What kind of a knave is he when he is not fit to be eaten? He eats pine cones and because of that stinks always of resin. Who should want to eat that kind? He may well have been near people, but do you want to know why? To steal! To steal apples from gardens. I have seen it with my own eyes. If only at least he, the rascal, would know how to respect good sweet apples like I do! Oh no! He gnaws into the apple to reach the pips and throws all the rest away. What a fool!"

Udras had got down to the fox's living quarters, he sniffed the air again and said:

"It stinks here so terribly. You shouldn't talk so scornfully about the squirrel stinking of resin when you yourself stink, pooh, of who knows what! What is all rotting here in your corner? Look, there are chicken legs and wings and—oh, you even eat beetles, you poor fellow; there's a whole heap of them in the corner. Well, get out and give the flat over to me!"

For a long time the fox was speechless.

"What?!" he shouted then. "I should get out?! From my own flat? Have you gone crackers, old duckfoot? Try and get away or else... !"

But Udras retorted angrily:

"Quiet, quiet, I am not a badger. I know this much that you too have stolen this den. That clever squirrel told me. Namely, that you drive poor badgers out of their homes and then take them over. Pure theft. So it isn't really your home, it's some poor badger's home, And therefore get out!"

The fox started to splutter violently.

"Shameless slander!" he yelled. "If I catch this squirrel, then... ! I worked sweat off my brow to dig this den. I worked for two months and eight days. And now comes someone—someone who is not a proper animal, instead, I don't know, is he a fish or a crayfish or what, and demands that I should give up the result of my hard work and leave! No, no! Not so! Rather I fight so 'that scales are going to fly from your back, you fish-eater!"

"Try 'then," the otter showed his teeth. "I am not a badger. And when you start to threaten me too then I am not going to joke with you. I ask for the last time: are you getting out or not?"

Instead of replying the fox growled and attacked the otter, but the latter bit his nose so painfully that the fox bounded back with a shriek and started to leave the den moaning and groaning.

"What times have come!" he complained. "Oh my dear! Up to now one could live peacefully without a care in the world. But now this horrible fish-eater has come into this tranquil corner to do his terrible business! Oh no! What about me, the honest, unfortunate, poor fox who has to suffer such injustice!"

"Keep crying, you swindler!" the otter laughed coolly. "Probably you are going to drive another badger out of his sett. You yourself don't get anything done."

"And you?" the fox turned round once more from the entrance. "Are you any better? Intruding forcefully into the home of an orderly citizen and driving him out. Is that a nice thing to do?"

"I'll settle here only temporarily," replied the otter. "You can get your den back later. I don't want to live here very long. My castles are always near the water with the entrance from underneath the surface."

"Well, you will probably lose your skin once on dry land!" spat the fox venomously and disappeared into the forest.

In this way Udras got a better home. It wasn't quite decent of course in his eyes, but he had now at least a secure shelter in case of danger. And those dangers certainly could arise.

For the time being, however, he started to catch fish even more eagerly. Pike, burbot, roach, pike-perch, bream, perch—all beautiful big fish—started to disappear into his stomach in greater numbers than before.

A cry of distress arose in the lake. Old fish gathered day and night to discuss what could be done to check this devastation.

The biggest pike of the lake, Ironhead, was asked to fight with this horror. Ironhead was nearly a metre and a half long and his head itself was already nearly half a metre long. With his head he could deal such a blow that he was not called Ironhead without reason. And the jaw in his head! It was like two spades full of sharp teeth the size of nails. Whoever got in between those teeth could not escape. It was said that Ironhead had snatched ducks and geese with those jaws and had even eaten a piglet, when it—belonging to the lakeside fisherman—had come to paddle in the lake.

Who else but such a pike could manage to settle the score with the otter. He was stronger than the otter, that's for sure, as the otter was only half his size. And the otter never had such might and anger as Ironhead. The fish thought it would be child's play for Ironhead to get the better of the otter, to bite his head off or give him a terrible blow of the kind that would finish his life instantly.

But Ironhead did not want to fight with the otter. He was an old fish and very conscious of it, despite being so impetuous and strong. He was only keen to use his strength for catching his prey. Bigger fish were his prey, but he ate less of them than the otter. He wasn't eager to do anything for anybody else than himself. And as he could not see any gain for himself from the fight with the otter, he did not want to take the risk. He had sometimes also watched the otter secretly from some bush or reeds and, being clever enough, he had quite a good idea about the otter; namely, that this four-legged beast was rather agile and a skilled swimmer and that his teeth were more dangerous than those of a pike. The pike cannot move his body as quickly and deftly as the otter, he can mainly rush straight forward, and it isn't as easy for him to change direction as it is for the otter.

Ironhead realized all that and refrained from fighting the otter. This fight could have become dangerous for him despite him being bigger and stronger than the otter. And why should one get oneself into danger? It was better to avoid it. After all the otter would not dare to attack me! thought Ironhead. He should see that I am not a suitable snack for him, indeed I could be dangerous.

But the otter is an even greedier glutton than the pike. And he does not put much value on the strength and agility of fish. He knows how to manage fish, however big and dangerous. The fish can devour others, but they are not quarrelsome or plunderers the way animals can be. The fish dash about but they can't do anything else in self-defence. The fish aren't able to quarrel like a dog. On the other hand the otter is. And it does not interest him whether the fish is half a metre long or shorter, or if he takes some interest then only in the sense that there is more to eat from a bigger fish. Only the striking power of fish is frightening for the otter. However, that doesn't trouble him either as he is adroit enough to avoid it and only seldom are there fish who could protect themselves in that way.

In his turn Udras had already long ago noticed the lake's biggest pike—Ironhead, who intrigued Udras with his shape. What a meal that would be! Some snack indeed! Udras had of course plenty to eat in any case, yet his greed made him hunt ever bigger fish, the more so as it was very interesting and fascinating entertainment for someone like him.

Ironhead with his big shape was very alluring for Udras. This one was as if the king of all fish. If only he could catch this one! What a catch that would be!

Udras had seen the big sheatfish Black-ghost, too. Yet this black beast, even bigger than Ironhead, did not tempt him. It was more like an animal than a fish—that Black-ghost. At least as regards his colour and manner. Of course he had the shape of a fish, this Black-ghost, yet he reminded Udras of the game-keeper's black dog who had troubled him at the riverside. That dog had also had such yellow eyes as the sheatfish. And he had also lurked in the same way as the sheatfish there in his mudhole. Unpleasant memories. And this is why the otter did not like the sheatfish.

But the pike, that was a different matter. It was a beautiful, big, slender, shiny fish, rather dark on top, with sides the shade of copper and a silvery stomach. Udras thought with pleasure of an attempt to catch this one.

And once, when the pike Ironhead was asleep in his hiding place, next to a big tree trunk that had fallen into the water, hidden by the branches of the tree, he heard above him an unusual suspicious splash.

The place where Ironhead was lying was deep as the tree had once floated from the shore to the middle of the lake and had got lodged with its branches behind a big stone until it became waterlogged and sank.

Glancing up Ironhead saw the otter high above, near the surface. Ironhead drew quietly nearer still to the tree trunk almost melting into one dark shape with it. He thought the otter had got here by chance, and Ironhead still didn't want any fight. He thought, let this dubious being again go his own way rather than let him notice and start to trouble me in some way. That the otter should really want to attack him, this the pike did not believe.

But suddenly something like a black spout flashed above Ironhead—and the otter was sitting on the pike's back. He sat like a man on a horse, two hind legs astride the pike and holding on to him with the two front legs.

The pike flung himself like an arrow here and there. But what could he do? It was to his detriment that he was in deep waters in the middle of the lake. Had he been somewhere near the shore where there are a lot of reeds, stones, waterpiants, even bushes, then he could have swept the otter off his back or at least the otter could not have been riding as comfortably on him. The pike circled once or twice underneath the branches of the sunken tree, but those branches were clearly rotten and soft and they fell to pieces without doing any damage to the otter.

Thus dashing here and there did no good to the pike. He could not do anything to the enemy on his back. On the contrary, the enemy forced his sharp teeth into his neck—in the place where the spine is and bit through it. And in a few minutes' time the big strong fish had no hope left. Udras rose up to the surface to catch a breath. And the body of his victim, Ironhead, rose together with him. Ironhead was dying. For a long time his tail still lashed the surface of the water, but those were his last movements.

Udras took the pike, who was almost twice as long as he himself, in between his teeth and swam to the shore. Here, amongst the stones, he had his repast. He ate all day and at night and even the following morning, resting only occasionally. Then he left the remnants there and went to his den to sleep. The remnants lasted out for crayfish, water-rats and seagulls for several days. However. Udras did not touch those remnants again. When he woke up, he caught a nice pike-perch and had this for dinner. The abundance of food inspired the big robber, gourmet and squanderer to ever greater voraciousness.

The fish went now to request the sheatfish to undertake something against this thief to save the inhabitants of the lake from wholesale annihilation. The sheatfish listened to the requests, lying in his mudhole with his yellow eyes shining, and pondered what to do. One can't say that he feared Udras, in any case he considered himself to be several times stronger and he was incomparably bigger than Udras, too. But Ironhead's death had given him a warning. Ironhead had been a mighty fish, a lot bigger than Udras, yet he had fallen prey to the thief.

What should one do?

To be continued in Part 3...