Otter Creek On the colorful flowers grown upon the dust and moss

"Koda," he returned. "My grandfather taught me. Nothin' to it, really," he explained. 'I sure hope it worked,' he said to himself. He couldn't bear a second embarrassment that same morning.

They reached the marshy reeds where the muskrat made it's nest, and Koda noticed right away that his dead fall trap had been triggered. A pair of webbed feet and a long scaly tail were sticking out from underneath the log he'd used to deliver the killing blow. "Got 'im," he said proudly, rolling the log off so he could retrieve his catch. He dropped it in front of Pallas. "He's a little flat, but still good."