POLLY AND ELEANOR VISIT THE BEAVERS
After breakfast the four girls asked each other what there was to do.
They had had so much excitement all week, that the simple life palled on
them.
"It's exactly like drinking milk after you have been kept on spice-beer
for a long time," laughed Eleanor.
"Well, Nolla and I have an invitation to spend the day with friends of
mine. We can ride over there any time," said Polly.
"Then for goodness' sake, come on! I'll be asleep again if we don't do
something," exclaimed Eleanor.
"All right, I'll saddle Noddy and you can have Choko. We will have to
harness them ourselves now that Jeb is away, and the other hands are
working on the ranch."
"You're not going far, are you?" asked Anne, suspiciously.
Polly laughed. "Not as far as we went yesterday."
Mrs. Brewster had been told where Polly planned to take Eleanor, and she
smiled approvingly. A nice luncheon was packed up and placed in the
panniers of the burros, and the three grownups stood and watched the two
girls ride down the trail to Rainbow Cliff.
As they went, Eleanor said: "Did you mention the name of your friends? I
forgot, if you have."
Polly laughed. "Maybe I told you, but I don't remember now. Anyway, you
wouldn't know them if I did tell you their names."
"But what do you call them when you address them?"
"I always call the old one 'Grandfather,' but he has a large family that
I never bother with. _He_ is our friend.
"This family lives and does queer things that no city folks ever dream
of," added Polly.
"Something like that Halsey woman, eh?" laughed Eleanor, who had heard
from Sary about the disobedient children.
"The Beavers are too polite to force their company on us. And as we may
not care to eat as they do, I decided to bring lunch, which we can
enjoy by ourselves," explained Polly.
Noddy and Choko now reached the trail leading up the pine-tipped crest
of the mountain back of Pebbly Pit, and were soon climbing through a
veritable wilderness of sage-brush and aspens.
"My, what a place to live in!" said Eleanor, surprised.
"It's not far, now," returned Polly.
Shortly after this, Polly turned Noddy from the old trail and plunged
into a thicket of aspens.
"Good gracious! How can they ever find their own home?" wondered
Eleanor, gazing at the closely growing aspen trees.
"They know everything! And Noddy knows the way by this time, too, as I
like to come here and spend the day. Besides there are blazes on the
large trees to guide one."
Noddy came out of the aspen grove after a time and then followed a
mountain-stream up-trail for half a mile or so, before turning to look
at her rider.
"Oh, you wise little Noddy. How did you know I wanted to stop here?"
laughed Polly, patting the burro affectionately.
Noddy flicked back her long ears in approval of such words and petting,
but Eleanor's cry made the burro listen intently.
"Polly! What a dreadful place to live in! Surely no one exists in this
lonesome wilderness, do they?"
"Mr. Beaver is clearing away the aspens just as fast as he can, but as
soon as they are all cut down, he will move the whole family to some
other dense grove, as they live on aspens, you know."
"What--what! I didn't understand you!" cried Eleanor.
Polly laughed as she pointed to a pond made by a dam crudely built
across the stream. It was rough and queer looking, but it answered its
purpose very well.
Eleanor saw half a dozen conical shaped huts built of mud in a row
across the dam, then she stared at both sides of the stream, up and
down, but no other habitation could she see. On the opposite bank
several large trees had been felled and a quantity of aspens had been
cut down and piled in confusion on the edge of the water.
"Do your ranchers live near here?" asked she.
"I didn't say they were ranchers, Nolla."
"Well, woodcutters, or what you call them!"
"Yes," laughed Polly, "they are woodcutters and live in those mud huts."
"What?" cried Eleanor again.
"S-sh! Not so loud or you will frighten them away!"
"Polly--impossible! What _do_ you mean anyway?"
"The beavers live there until the family grows too large, then they
either build another story to the house, or start a new colony where
aspens can be had in plenty. As there are so many young aspens here in
perfect security, for the beavers, Grandfather Beaver remains here."
"Oh, Polly! You mean they are _real beavers_!" gasped Eleanor.
"Yes, and I knew you would love to see them at work, but we have to keep
very quiet if we want them to come out."
"Tell me about them--quick--before we have to go away," begged Eleanor,
eagerly.
"We won't have to go, but we have to keep quiet. You see they must have
been cutting aspens over there, when they heard us coming and so they
made a dive for safety. They are now hiding in the huts."
"What can we do to coax them out again?"
"We'll lead the burros to the park to graze, and we'll come back and
sit quietly on this rock to watch for them."
So the two burros were taken to a small nearby clearing where buffalo
grass offered a juicy repast for them. Having hobbled them to keep them
from straying, Polly led the way back to the beaver-dam.
"If you were over there to examine those cut aspens you would find each
one about eighteen inches long and about one and a half inches thick.
The beavers always build near an aspen grove, as it is their food, but
not finding a grove near the water, they have to swim up or down until
they reach what they need. That is why you find their huts on water,"
explained Polly.
"But I've heard they are water animals."
Before Polly could reply, a sleek head bobbed up from the water near one
of the huts and Eleanor gasped with surprise. The beaver swam to the
opposite bank where the trees had been cut down. He climbed quickly out
of the stream and started to roll a heavy log over the ground until it
splashed down into the pond. He then jumped after it and continued
rolling and pushing it along till he reached the dam. Instantly, more
beavers came out from the huts and assisted in towing the log to their
dam of aspens.
"Oh, oh, Polly!" whispered Eleanor in excited astonishment, but Polly
held her finger over her lips in warning.
"I do believe they plan to build a new dam further up-stream, Nolla. If
that is so, we will have something worth while to watch for during the
next few days. Just now they are repairing the old houses for the
Winter, and that log is to be a bulwark about which green cuttings of
willow and young aspens can be woven as a partial strainer for the
water. The debris that thus collects in the chinks between the cuttings,
makes the dam firmer and yet more flexible than a solid structure
would."
Just then, the sound of a falling tree made Eleanor jump and look across
the stream.
"Other industrious beavers cutting down another tree," explained Polly.
"How do they ever do it, Poll?"
"If you watch, you will see that beaver go to work."
Not one beaver appeared, but four that hurried to the bank and moved the
newly cut tree into the water. One of the four dragged the tree with its
branches still on, into the mid-stream where, catching a heavy branch
between his teeth, he steered it to the row of huts.
Directly back of the first one, swam the other three, each dragging a
section of tree to deposit on the dam, where an old beaver was hard at
work. As soon as the first beaver reached the huts, the old fellow gave
a peculiar call that brought out a score or more of workers. They all
went to their tasks as if drilled by a master.
"My old Grandfather is not there this morning, or that other boss would
not be taking his place," whispered Polly.
Eleanor had been using her eyes to good advantage and now called to
Polly anxiously. "Look a'there, Polly! Those beavers are eating the
tree!"
"They're not eating it but are cutting it down. Now you watch and you
will see how they do it."
The tree in question, stood on the shore and was about six inches in
diameter and about sixteen feet in height. The boss of another group of
beavers tested the tree by placing his fore-paws against the trunk and
spreading out his hind legs as a bracer. He sat upon his tail and took a
deliberate bite from the bark. No wonder Eleanor thought he was eating
the tree!
After gnawing at one side, he thumped the ground with his extended tail
and ran away. Other beavers took his place and began cutting in much
the same manner. Then the boss beaver, who was superintending the work,
pushed the workers away and showed them how to work in a better way.
This done, the boss thumped the ground with his tail--just as a
policeman strikes the walk with his night-club--and the cutters went
back to work.
Suddenly the boss thumped the ground repeatedly and the cutters ran to a
safe distance. A moment later, the tree began swaying and crashed down
into the pond. It had been so cut and planned that labor and time would
be saved by throwing it directly into the stream.
It was towed down into the general harvest-pile and left for other
colonists to saw into required shape and length for the additions to
their huts.
Soon after this, a number of beavers came forth and swam to the extreme
upper end of the pond. Here they climbed up on the bank and disappeared
from sight in the aspen-covered forest.
"Where are they going?" asked Eleanor, anxiously.
"We'll soon find out!" declared Polly.
As Polly spoke, a beaver swam along the bank and scrambled out quite
near the spot where the two girls sat quietly watching. He sniffed and
then plunged back to hurry to the huts where he must have reported the
result of his trip. Immediately after, the boss commanded him to lead
the way, and both returned to the place for a thorough investigation.
The scout brought his boss up the bank and sniffed. Polly and Eleanor
were quivering with excitement, as they saw the beavers making for the
trail.
"Let's see what is wrong?" whispered Polly, cocking her rifle in case of
emergency.
"Oh, don't do that!" cried Eleanor, catching hold of Polly's arm.
"Stop! Let go--that is how accidents happen. You drag on one's arm and
the trigger, all ready to fire, is pulled accidentally. I know what I am
about, so you need have no concern."
Eleanor felt chagrined and meekly followed Polly after this. They crept
through the woods without making a sound.
The two beavers reached the clearing where Noddy and Choko were grazing,
and the moment the boss saw the burros, he turned and snapped at the
foolish scout that had brought him this journey for naught! But the
subdued laughter from the girls made the beavers rush pell-mell into
the pond to wonder whether burros could laugh like that!
On the way back to their rock of observation, Polly said, "Beavers are
slow and awkward on land so that the agile panther, the alert wildcat,
or wolves and bears, form a constant menace to them. Because of their
unwieldy and short legs, they cannot escape quickly, but in water they
are wonderful swimmers, so, water being necessary to their safety, they
build their huts on the dams that will not bear up other wild animals.
If their dams were constructed solidly, the beavers would soon be
extinct, as forest savages would crawl over and glut on the helpless
prey."
"Didn't you say we could follow those other ones that went up-stream?"
asked Eleanor.
"Yes, come on," replied Polly, leading the way for some distance before
seeing a sign of a beaver again. Then suddenly, she clutched hold of
Eleanor's arm.
"Ah, there's Grandfather, hard at work!"
"Where--which?" cried Eleanor, eagerly.
"The one with a limp and a twisted back!"
The girls had reached a place where the stream widened and here they
found a great number of beavers at work. Some cutting, some dragging,
others swimming with aspens, willows and alders, and all ordered about
by an old crippled beaver.
But despite his twisted back and decided halt in gait, he moved about
quicker than the others, showing them where to place, how to saw, when
to cut the aspens, and other important details of construction.
"There are a lot of pines, Polly--why doesn't he use them?"
"A beaver doesn't like the smelly, pitchy wood, so they never cut them
unless they have to clear a roadway from an aspen grove to the stream of
water."
"Then they ought to use all those trees already down. There are lots
that have been felled by forest fires, I guess."
"There again they show their wisdom," explained Polly. "A beaver never
cuts dead wood as it dulls and injures his teeth. And dead wood does not
last like live trees, either."
At this moment, Grandfather Beaver seemed to sniff a familiar as well as
a doubtful presence. He lifted his nose high and thumped his tail for an
assistant. Leaving commands with this beaver, the Grandfather went into
the stream and swam away.
Eleanor was sorry to lose sight of him, but almost before she could
speak, the old fellow rose laboriously from the water just in front of
her. He waited, sniffing anxiously, but found a stranger with his
friend, so he half-slid back into the stream.
Polly made strange sounds and ran down towards him. To Eleanor's
amazement the old fellow actually expressed joy at seeing a friend. He
emitted peculiar sounds and Polly stood a few feet away uttering queer
sounds, too. Then he sent her a look of love--if there ever was one--and
after this welcome he slid back into the water to continue the work as
overseer.
"Polly Brewster--I never in all my life!" gasped Eleanor.
Polly laughed as she watched her beaver join the workers and scold them
for laziness while he was absent visiting a friend.
"Let's get the burros, now, and I'll show you a place where we can lunch
while I tell you how Grandfather and I got to know each other so well,"
suggested Polly.
As the girls rode along the up-trail, Polly told the story.
[A]"A few years ago, while out adventuring, I found this colony of
beavers. I wanted father to come with me and see them, but he was too
busy that year.
[Footnote A: A true story.]
"The following Summer, however, he came and we sat on the same rock
where you and I sat to-day.
"We had to wait for ten minutes or more, before a beaver came out of his
hut in the dam. It was not as large or strong a dam, then, as now. The
beaver was anxious to reach a spot in the aspen grove where we could
hear the other beavers at work.
"To reach the grove, he had to come up out of the stream and cross some
land to the other pond. Just as he climbed up from the water, he sniffed
danger. He was directly opposite us and we could see everything very
plainly.
"Father lifted his rifle slowly and very carefully, and I looked
intently to see what it was that he saw.
"On a bough of a tree almost directly over the beaver, I saw a lithe
serpentine thing twitching as if a snake was trying to curl up. But I
knew it wasn't a snake. It must be the long tail of a panther who was
crouching for a leap, but I could not distinguish a body back of the
foliage of the tree.
"The beaver stood uncertain of action for a moment, and as he turned to
dive again to safety, the mountain-lion sprang. At the same instant,
father pulled the trigger. But the panther landed almost on top of the
beaver's back, while the shot must have grazed his head, making him rage
furiously.
"The beaver, who was on the verge of the stream, fought valiantly with
teeth and his powerful strength, but the lion had the upper hold on him.
Slowly the two squirmed and rolled, the beaver trying to drag his enemy
into the stream, and the panther fighting to keep his prey on land.
"'Father--shoot--shoot! Even if you kill the beaver!' I yelled, as I
closed my eyes from the awful sight.
"But daddy already had taken aim and even as I spoke, he pulled the
trigger. This time his shot took effect for we saw the beast loose his
hold on the beaver and roll over writhing in agony.
"Father rushed along the bank and crept over the beaver-dam to the other
side. Then he put the lion out of pain with a third shot, and stooped to
examine the beaver.
"We always take a doctor's pocket-case when going on a trip, and father
now took it out, so I knew the beaver was not dead.
"'Poll, try to come over here and bring a pan, sheath-knife, and some
hartshorn from the pack.'
"I did as I was told, and stood helping father when the beaver came
too--after getting a big whiff of hartshorn. We washed the torn flesh
with water, and father poured on something from a bottle that made the
old fellow squirm, but he sensed that we were helping him and he offered
no resistance.
"Well, Nolla, when we were done with our surgical work, you just ought
to have seen that beaver's gratitude shining from his round eyes.
"When he had recovered sufficiently to start for home, father swam
beside him. And it was well he did for the poor fellow could not have
made it alone. Father towed him across the pond and left him on the dam.
There, the boss (for he was the boss of the colony) made a strange sound
and instantly, a score of beavers came out.
"Meantime, father had left him alone while I stood a distance away and
watched the scene eagerly. As many beavers as could get near him,
managed to roll and push him up on the dam where he lay stretched out.
"Father did not think the poor thing would recover, but I thought he
would, so we went back the next day, but he had disappeared.
"We wished we could find out in some way, whether our friend was
recovering or whether he had died and was buried by his family. So
father decided to creep out on the dam and investigate. I went, too, and
no sooner had we tried to make the same queer sound the Grandfather had
made that day, than a beaver poked his nose out of a hut and sniffed.
Quickly he disappeared again, but in a few moments, he came out and
stood quite close to us making queer sounds at us. He was not afraid, so
we took it that he was reporting on the health of our friend.
"We did not see Grandfather again that Summer, so early last Spring I
went to visit my colony, and there was my friend, bossing things as
usual. But his back was crooked and he had to walk with a lame twist, so
I suppose that lion injured his backbone.
"I made a queer sound and he listened. He recognized me and swam over to
thump his tail on the ground in front of my rock. I was so delighted
that I rushed home and brought father over. Then you should have seen
that beaver! He squirmed, and barked, and thumped his tail. It was like
the meeting of a long-lost friend. Father was so impressed by the
incident that he went to Denver and secured permission from the
Government Land Survey Office to establish a permanent reserve here for
the beavers. Now they have law protection and may rest unmolested by
hunters or trappers."
"Oh, Polly! It's just like a fairy tale, but much more interesting. What
became of the nasty panther?" cried Eleanor.
"He's stretched on our living-room floor--that skin by the fire-place.
We had an awful time lugging the beast home, but I was determined to
walk on his head every chance I got, so we swung him on a pole and
managed to induce the horses to be reasonable about the dead creature."
By the time Polly had concluded her story, the burros reached the bluff
where the girls camped and prepared luncheon. This day of closer
intimacy for the two girls, sealed a life-long friendship between them.
Neither girl had ever had a chum of her own age, and now they found so
much to admire and respect in each other that their companionship
continued without the usual envy, quarrels or jealousies so common in
school life between school-mates.
[Illustration: THE PANTHER WAS ABOUT TO LEAP UPON THE BEAVER.
_Polly and Eleanor._ _Page 94._]