The otter belongs to the family of Mustalidae. The species in this family are known for being of a very fiery nature. It is not advisable to provoke them. Apart from the yellow-throated marten, other species such as the least weasel, the sable, the mountain weasel, the steppe polecat, the Siberian weasel and so on belong to this family. When it puts its mind to it, even a species as stout and inert as the Asian badger is ready to fight a battle of life and death which leaves animals as fierce as the leopard with no choice but to admit defeat. When animals meet a challenge, they cannot negotiate. They are only left with two options—fight or flight. This bold and fierce fellow decided to assume a defensive stance and face the challenge even though its whole body was trapped by the net.
When I was small I used to play with cats and dogs. I learned very early on how to calm down a dog that was in the middle of a rage. The way to do it is to talk to them in a warm and soft tone voice that will coax them into calming down. I tried the same method now with the otter. I started talking to it in a quiet, calm voice, as if I was a mother trying to placate a child. I even put on a passable impression of the tone of a woman's voice. As I expected, the otter slowly began to calm down somewhat. Although its look has not yet quite lost that wild expression, the fury and fright started to slip away from it. Talking about it now, it seems there was nothing hard about it; however, at that time it took two hours of me pretending to be a mother which later left me with a two day sore throat. The otter was completely worn out by its long and desperate struggle. I tried to caress it while talking to it in a calming voice. Wild animals would never willingly accept a stranger's touch. Even in captivity, they only do so extremely grudgingly, but I had no choice but to touch it. The first time my hand touched the back of its neck, it immediately started shaking violently and it puffed and howled at me angrily. However, I did not stop and continued to caress behind its ear, under its chin and on the sides of its belly. These are all places that mammals like to touch when they rub each other or when they want to display a feeling of intimacy, as they derive a feeling of pleasure and relaxation from it. I waited for the otter to relax and then took out a small pocket knife and proceeded to cut away the strands of the net one by one. When I got about halfway through, this sensitive girl seemed to know that she was about to be released from her shackles. She took advantage when I stepped aside for a moment and flipped her body back with a mighty jerk in a successful effort to shed off her fetters and plunged herself into the water. I could see the ghostlike silhouette of her black body flicker once or twice under the surface of the water and the next moment she disappeared among the glistening depths of the lake.
When the sound of the otter splashing in the lake subsided, the surface of the lake resumed its calm demeanor and everything once more returned to silence. I stood on the bank for a long time, gazing into the depths of the lake. Night was about to fall and I knew that I would not be able to see anything but I was still reluctant to look away. It was only later that I realized that I was not hoping to see anything, I was just listening. I wondered whether I might be able to hear that clear splashing sound that emanated from the small animal that I had just rescued. Gradually, I thought that I was able to make out a very faint sound. It was very quiet, one moment I thought I could hear, the next there was nothing. Sometimes I felt it was close, sometimes far. It reverberated as softly as strands of gossamer in the desolate darkness.
It was something between a swish and a splash. I think that it must have been the sound of the waves rippling against the smooth satin-like skin of the otter.
11:00 am, 23 December 2001
Lao Bu, who walked at the front, suddenly let out an "ah" and stopped abruptly. He pointed at a chain of footprints. These footprints were very distinct. They looked like a neat chain of coin shaped five-petal flowers winding across a large snow covered tree stump. It was clear that the animal which left behind the footsteps was just enjoying a nice stroll over this spacious wooden bridge.
"A sable, it passed by one day ago" , Lao Bu chuckled as he bent down to examine them.
My heart skipped with joy. I lived under the impression that Changbai Shan's sables had all been hunted down and now I was seeing its footprints with my own eyes. That was good news indeed. We also saw numerous squirrel tracks in the snow. They roamed around in search of pine seeds preserved in the ground since autumn. In the process they left behind a good number of shallow holes and pine seed shells. Good, the sable has no need to worry about finding sustenance. The sable is the same as the otter in the way that it does not store up a layer of fat for the winter months. In order to maintain sufficient body warmth, it frequently has to hunt for squirrels and other small sized rodents. Lao Bu told me that these were the first sable footprints that he had seen this winter.
Ever since I rescued her, Grey Lady (I decided to give her a name) was much more tolerant of my presence. When I climbed to the top of a cliff by the lakeside that she considered to be part of her territory, she did not hiss at me angrily as a way of warning anymore. I was therefore able to observe the entire lake from above which also gave me the chance to see and marvel at her everyday activities.
