HOW THE WINTER WENT
December came and went, and the first of the new year found the beavers
snugly caught beneath a barricade of six inches of ice. The water from
the little brook that fed their pond was very clear, so that the ice was
as transparent as glass. This enabled them to see what was going on
outside almost as well as they could before the ice had formed, and
besides, it kept out the wind and the cold.
You may wonder at this, and think that no place on earth could be colder
than the bottom of an ice-bound pond; but I am sure that a thermometer
under water would have registered much higher temperature than one
above, for if this were not so, the water would freeze solid to the
bottom.
Did you ever have your playmates bury you in the snow just for fun? The
snow looks cold, and seems uninviting, but once snugly tucked away in
it, it is quite a warm white blanket. People of northern latitudes
frequently save their lives, when caught out in a cold storm, by
covering themselves in the snow. In the same manner the dog teams in
Alaska pass the bitter cold nights of an arctic winter buried in the
snow. So the ice made the beavers' pond snug in the same manner.
Besides being warmed by its coating of ice, the frost folks had also
made the pond very beautiful. Wherever there was an uneven spot in the
ice, the sunlight was broken into a wonderful rainbow prism of dazzling
colors, that showed more plainly under the ice than above. There were
green, blue, opal, and many shades of light red, all of which made a
beautiful roof for the beavers' winter palace.
In addition to this, all the grasses and reeds along the edge of the
pond were gemmed with ice-diamonds. These globules of ice caught the
sun's rays, and in many cases refracted them as brilliantly as real
diamonds would have done. In all the little inlets where reeds and flags
had been frozen into the ice, the frost folks had played queer pranks,
so that the pond was a most beautiful place, as well as a very snug one.
The phrase "as busy as a beaver" was anything but descriptive of their
life now, for they did little but sleep and eat bark. They had provided
well for these cold months, and now they had nothing to do but enjoy
themselves. I am inclined to think that the maxim about working like a
beaver only applies to two or three months in the autumn, for the rest
of the year the beaver is a very lazy fellow. All through the winter
months he sleeps in his snug house, or nibbles away at his store of
bark. Then, as soon as the ice breaks up, all the male beavers over
three years of age start on their annual wanderings through lakes and
streams. There is no particular object in this quest, but it is just a
nomadic habit, an impulse that stirs in the blood, as soon as the sap
starts in the maple, and keeps them moving until some time in September.
One day must have been very much like another under their covering of
ice. Inside the lodge, the diameter was three or four feet and about the
same in height. Each beaver has his own particular bed, which he always
occupies, and the house is kept very neat and clean. I do not imagine
there was much regularity in their meals, but whenever they felt hungry,
one would go to the pile of logs near the dam and select a piece. This
was then dragged into the lodge and peeled leisurely. When it was white
and shining, it was taken back and thrust into some crevice in the dam,
or piled by itself. It had served its turn, and was now discarded.
One enemy the beavers had who gave them considerable annoyance and some
anxiety. This was the gluttonous wolverine, which is a mongrel wolf,
meaner than any other member of the family. His prey is small animals,
and his particular delicacy is beaver meat. He is also a lover of
carrion and dark deeds, and is altogether a despicable fellow.
The crowning event in the life of the beaver lodge during that first
winter, was the coming of four fuzzy, awkward, beaver babies. They were
very queer looking little chaps, with long, clumsy hind legs, which they
never knew quite how to use until they were shown the mysteries of the
water world and swimming. These mites of beavers were not as well clad
as their parents, for their fur was very short, but they nestled close
to their mother, and, by dint of wriggling into her warm coat, kept warm
until spring.
Shaggycoat was much busier after the young beavers came. He now had to
bring all the wood into the lodge, for Brighteyes stuck close to her
children and Shaggycoat was glad to wait upon her. So, when she was
hungry, he brought logs into the mud house and peeled them for her.
Several times during the winter, they heard sounds of some animal
digging at the outer wall of their castle, and occasionally an ugly
looking wolfish muzzle was thrust in at the vent, which at first gave
them great uneasiness, but, by degrees, this wore away, as they found
out how strong the house was and how little the digging of their enemy
accomplished.
At last the spring rains came, and the ice began to break up. Then, as
the water rose, and the ice was tumbled about by the current, which was
swollen, there were loud reports from the cracking ice that echoed
across the valley, just as they had when the great pines fell.
Huge cakes of ice were piled upon their island, and one struck the mud
house, threatening to demolish it, but it withstood the shock.
The dam was severely tried during these spring freshets. The ice pounded
and ground away at it, and the water set back, until the pond was twice
the size it had been in the autumn. The beavers were nearly drowned out
of their lodge during this high water, but finally a portion of the dam
gave way and the water fell. Then the ice went churning and scraping
through the break. Driftwood and brush and all sorts of debris came down
with the flood, and the water was full of silt and gravel. The pond was
not the crystal lake it had been.
It gradually settled, and things looked as they had in the autumn; the
trees were leafless, and the landscape cheerless. The pond also froze
over along the edges at night and thawed by day.
Away down in the heart of the earth, the secret forces of nature were
stirring. The maple had already felt the touch of life, and its sap
coursed gleefully in its veins. The awakening had not come yet, but it
was coming. The flowers and the buds had been sleeping, the nuts and the
seeds had been waiting patiently, but their time of waiting was nearly
over.
Already daffodil and arbutus stirred uneasily in their slumber. Their
dreams were light, like the sleep of early morning. Into their dreams
would steal a sense of soft winds and warm sunshine.
Then, one day, the sense of this life about them became so certain, and
their dreams were so real, that they awoke, and spring had really come.
Up they sprang like children who had overslept and opened their hearts
to the joy of living in the warmth of the new spring.
Now the pond was no longer frozen over along the bank, but the shores
were very muddy with the coming out of the frost. Soon birds began to
sing in the bushes along the pond, and a sense of restlessness came over
Shaggycoat, for everything seemed to be moving. The birds were all going
somewhere, and why not he?
He first cut a good supply of fresh poplar logs at the upper end of the
pond and floated them down near the lodge. This took him several days,
during which time the spring had been advancing, so, when this task was
finished, the frogs were singing in his pond. This was a sure sign of
spring and one that should not go unheeded.
The water was pouring through several large breaks in his dam, but what
cared he? There was still water enough in the pond to keep the entrances
to the lodge under water, but even if it did not, the house could be
abandoned, and his family could live in one of the burrows along the
bank for a while.
There were Brighteyes and the four frolicsome young beavers to keep him,
but the rush of distant waters was in his ears, and he felt just like
swimming miles and miles away. Distant waterfalls and rapids were
calling to him; deep pools in the river, and wonderful mountain lakes
were all waiting for him.
So, one day, when the air was soft and sweet, and the water was getting
warm, he slipped away, and Brighteyes knew that she should not see him
again until early in September. He was gone to the world of
water-wonders, far beyond their limited horizon. She would stay and take
care of the babies until his return.