CHAPTER I_The House in the Water: A Book of Animal Stories

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THE HOUSE IN THE WATER

A BOOK OF ANIMAL STORIES

THE HOUSE IN THE WATER

A BOOK OF ANIMAL STORIES

BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS

Author of "The Kindred of the Wild," "Red Fox," "The Heart of the Ancient

Wood," "The Forge in the Forest," "The Heart That Knows," etc.

Illustrated and decorated by

CHARLES LIVINGSTON BULL and FRANK VINING SMITH

THE PAGE COMPANY

PUBLISHERS BOSTON

First Impression, May, 1908

Third Impression, May, 1916

THE COLONIAL PRESS

C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.

CONTENTS OF THE BOOK

PAGE

The House in the Water 1

The White-slashed Bull 125

When the Blueberries Are Ripe 152

The Glutton of the Great Snow 163

When the Truce of the Wild is Done 192

The Window in the Shack 204

The Return of the Moose 225

From the Teeth of the Tide 235

The Fight at the Wallow 252

Sonny and the Kid 271

A LIST OF THE FULL-PAGE DRAWINGS IN THE BOOK

PAGE

"Began to climb out upon the crest of the dam." 7

"A foraging fish-hawk winging above." 15

"The otter moved with unusual caution." 19

"Suddenly rearing his sleek, snaky body half out of the

water." 23

"Poked his head above water." 33

"Sticky lumps, which they could hug under their chins." 41

"Twisted it across his shoulders, and let it drag behind

him." 54

"Every beaver now made a mad rush for the canal." 58

"It was no longer a log, but a big gray lynx." 62

"He caught sight of a beaver swimming down the pond." 72

"'Or even maybe a bear.'" 90

"He drowns jest at the place where he come in." 96

"Hunted through the silent and pallid aisles of the forest." 102

"A sinister, dark, slow-moving beast." 106

"He sprang with a huge bound that landed him, claws open,

squarely on the wolverene's hind quarters." 110

"It was not until the moon appeared ... that Jabe began to

call." 142

"Something gleamed silver down his side." 148

"An old she-bear with two half-grown cubs." 154

"Crept slowly around the raging and snarling captive." 170

"Snapped back at him with a vicious growl." 176

"Running in the shallow water to cover his scent" 200

"Sniffed loudly along the crack of the door." 212

"Made a wild thrust at the dreadful face." 216

"A magnificent, black, wide-antlered bull, an ungainly brown

cow, and a long-legged, long-eared calf." 228

"Pulled the butt under her chest." 248

"He 'belled' harshly several times across the dark wastes." 254

"In a flash was up again on his haunches." 268

"He curled down his abbreviated tail, and ran." 280

"In his fright the kid dropped his toadstool and stared back

at the gray animal." 292

THE HOUSE IN THE WATER

CHAPTER I

The Sound in the Night

UPON the moonlit stillness came suddenly a far-off, muffled, crashing

sound. Just once it came, then once again the stillness of the

wilderness night, the stillness of vast, untraversed solitude. The Boy

lifted his eyes and glanced across the thin reek of the camp-fire at

Jabe Smith, who sat smoking contemplatively. Answering the glance, the

woodsman muttered "old tree fallin'," and resumed his passive

contemplation of the sticks glowing keenly in the fire. The Boy, upon

whom, as soon as he entered the wilderness, the taciturnity of the

woodsfolk descended as a garment, said nothing, but scanned his

companion's gaunt face with a gravely incredulous smile.

So wide-spread and supreme was the silence that five seconds after

that single strange sound had died out it seemed, somehow, impossible

to believe it had ever been. The light gurgle of the shallow and

shrunken brook which ran past the open front of the travellers'

"lean-to" served only to measure the stillness. Both Jabe and the Boy,

since eating their dinner, had gradually forgotten to talk. As the

moon rose over the low, fir-crested hills they had sunk into reverie,

watching the camp-fire die down.

At last, with a sort of crisp whisper a stick, burnt through the

middle, fell apart, and a flicker of red flame leaped up. The woodsman

knocked out his pipe, rose slowly to his feet, stretched his gaunt

length, and murmured, "Reckon we might as well turn in."

"That's all right for you, Jabe," answered the Boy, rising also,

tightening his belt, and reaching for his rifle, "but I'm going off to

see what I can see. Night's the time to see things in the woods."

Jabe grunted non-committally, and began spreading his blanket in the

lean-to. "Don't forgit to come back for breakfast, that's all," he

muttered. He regarded the Boy as a phenomenally brilliant hunter and

trapper spoiled by sentimental notions.

To the Boy, whose interest in all pertaining to woodcraft was much

broader and more sympathetic than that of his companion, Jabe's

interpretation of the sound of the falling tree had seemed hasty and

shallow. He knew that there was no better all-round woodsman in these

countries than Jabe Smith; but he knew also that Jabe's interest in

the craft was limited pretty strictly to his activities as hunter,

trapper and lumberman. Just now he was all lumberman. He was acting as

what is called a "timber-cruiser," roaming the remoter and less-known

regions of the wilderness to locate the best growths of spruce and

pine for the winter's lumbering operations, and for the present

his keen faculties were set on the noting of tree growths, and

water-courses, and the lay of the land for the getting out of a

winter's cutting. On this particular cruise the Boy--who, for all

the disparity in their years and the divergence in their views, was

his most valued comrade--had accompanied him with a special object

in view. The region they were cruising was one which had never been

adequately explored, and it was said to be full of little unnamed,

unmapped lakes and streams, where, in former days, the Indians had

had great beaver hunting.

When the sound of the falling tree came to his ears across the

night-silence, the Boy at once said to himself, "Beavers, at work!" He

said it to himself, not aloud, because he knew that Jabe also, as a

trapper, would be interested in beavers; and he had it in his mind to

score a point on Jabe. Noiseless as a lynx in his soft-soled

"larrigans," he ascended the half-empty channel of the brook, which

here strained its shrunken current through rocks and slate-slabs,

between steep banks. The channel curved steadily, rounding the

shoulder of a low ridge. When he felt that he had travelled somewhat

less than half a mile, he came out upon a bit of swampy marsh, beyond

which, over the crest of a low dam, spread the waters of a tranquil

pond shining like a mirror in the moonlight.

The Boy stopped short, his heart thumping with excitement and

anticipation. Here before him was what he had come so far to find.

From his books and from his innumerable talks with hunter and trapper,

he knew that the dam and the shining, lonely pond were the work of

beavers. Presently he distinguished amid the sheen of the water a

tiny, grassy islet, with a low, dome-shaped, stick-covered mound at

one end of it. This, plainly, was a beaver house, the first he had

ever seen. His delighted eyes, observing it at this distance, at once

pronounced it immeasurably superior to the finest and most pretentious

muskrat-house he had ever seen--a very palace, indeed, by comparison.

Then, a little further up the pond, and apparently adjoining the

shore, he made out another dome-shaped structure, broader and less

conspicuous than the first, and more like a mere pile of sticks. The

pond, which was several acres in extent, seemed to him an extremely

spacious domain for the dwellers in these two houses.

Presently he marked a black trail, as it were, moving down in the

middle of the radiance from the upper end of the pond. It was

obviously the trail of some swimmer, but much too broad, it seemed, to

be made by anything so small as a beaver. It puzzled him greatly. In

his eagerness he pushed noiselessly forward, seeking a better view,

till he was within some thirty feet of the dam. Then he made out a

small dark spot in the front of the trail,--evidently a beaver's head;

and at last he detected that the little swimmer was carrying a bushy

branch, one end held in his mouth while the rest was slung back

diagonally across his shoulders.

The Boy crept forward like a cat, his gray eyes shining with

expectancy. His purpose was to gain a point where he could crouch in

ambush behind the dam, and perhaps get a view of the lake-dwellers

actually at work. He was within six or eight feet of the dam,

crouching low (for the dam was not more than three feet in height),

when his trained and cunning ear caught a soft swirling sound in the

water on the other side of the barrier. Instantly he stiffened to a

statue, just as he was, his mouth open so that not a pant of his

quickened breath might be audible. The next moment the head of a

beaver appeared over the edge of the dam, not ten feet away, and

stared him straight in the face.

The beaver had a stick of alder in its mouth, to be used, no doubt, in

some repairing of the dam. The Boy, all in gray as he was, and

absolutely motionless, trusted to be mistaken for one of the gnarled,

gray stumps with which the open space below the dam was studded. He

had read that the beaver was very near-sighted, and on that he based

his hopes, though he was so near, and the moonlight so clear, that he

could see the bright eyes of the newcomer staring straight into his

with insistent question. Evidently, the story of that near-sightedness

had not been exaggerated. He saw the doubt in the beaver's eye fade

gradually into confidence, as the little animal became convinced that

the strange gray figure was in reality just one of the stumps. Then,

the industrious dam-builder began to climb out upon the crest of the

dam, dragging his huge and hairless tail, and glancing along as if to

determine where the stick which he carried would do most good. At this

critical moment, when the eager watcher felt that he was just about to

learn the exact methods of these wonderful architects of the wild, a

stick in the slowly settling mud beneath his feet broke with a soft,

thick-muffled snap.

[Illustration: "BEGAN TO CLIMB OUT UPON THE CREST OF THE DAM."]

So soft was the sound that it barely reached the Boy's ears. To the

marvellously sensitive ears of the beaver, however, it was a warning

more than sufficient. It was a noisy proclamation of peril. Swift as a

wink of light, the beaver dropped his stick and dived head first into

the pond. The Boy straightened up just in time to see him vanish. As

he vanished, his broad, flat, naked tail hit the water with a cracking

slap which resounded over the pond like a pistol-shot. It was reechoed

by four or five more splashes from the upper portion of the pond.

Then all was silence again, and the Boy realized that there would be

no more chance that night for him to watch the little people of the

House in the Water. Mounting the firm-woven face of the dam and

casting his eyes all over the pond, he satisfied himself that two

houses which he had first seen were all that it contained. Then,

resisting the impulse of his excitement, which was to explore all

around the pond's borders at once, he resolutely turned his face back

to camp, full of thrilling plans for the morrow.