here. It’s full of dry leaves, too,” announced Tom, joyfully. “Say, we
can sleep in here; there’s room enough for both of us.”
“Sure,” replied Jud, busy with his matches and some dry wood, which he
soon had crackling and snapping, sending up a cheerful blaze which
lighted up the dark, scary places and made things less creepy. Then he
deftly skinned the fish, and raked a bed of coals, and they toasted the
fish, which were delicious, even though they lacked salt. Then they
gathered together quantities of dried spruce and built up a great fire
far out on the flat stone at the edge of the ledge.
“Guess whoever sees our fire will think it’s a beacon light, won’t they,
Jud?” remarked Tom, as he piled on dry wood.
“They sure will, Tom, and maybe some of the men from camp will be out in
the woods and find us. Come on now. We’ll crawl into our spare bedroom;
we’ll snug up tight and keep each other warm. There’ll be a big frost
to-night.”
Soon the two tired out boys were fast asleep in each other’s arms, while
their camp-fire blazed high on the ledge, a regular beacon, as they
said.
At least one curious one had followed its gleaming light, for with
great, agile, anxious bounds, the bobcat, who had left its mate and
kittens in the very den where Jud and Tom were now sleeping, was making
its way back to the ledge. Growling and snarling because of the strange
light, it crept nearer and nearer the den. The bobcat is by no means so
dangerous a foe as the catamount or lynx, but when its young ones are in
danger, it is fierce and dangerous enough.
The bobcat seldom climbed the ledge to its den, but would more often
mount a tall tree, from where it readily leaped to the flat rock. The
cat, having clawed itself up the tree, as usual, raised itself, clinging
to a dead branch, and gave forth a long, terrific yell of baffled rage
as it faced the camp-fire, which flamed up between it and its den, for
when it had left the ledge for the swamp, back of that fire, safe in the
den were the bobcat’s family. It dare not leap over the glowing flames;
still, unwilling to forsake its mate and kittens, it held its position
upon the tree. Another fierce, more terrible yell, and the two boys came
tumbling out of the den, and at the same instant the fire flamed up and
they both saw the angry bobcat perched in the tree directly opposite
them.
“Gee, what’s that thing? A tiger, Jud?” gasped Tom, clutching his
brother in sudden terror.
“Nope; maybe a catamount. Say, Jiminy, come to think of it, I guess we
must have been asleep in its den,” spoke Jud.
“What’s to hinder his jumping over the fire and tackling us, Jud?”
gasped Tom.
“Well, he won’t, not so long as we can keep it built up high. Come on;
hurry, Tom. Get more spruce, quick,” and then both boys piled on more
wood, and by the light they could still see the angry bobcat, who kept
his position right opposite them, its green eyes glittering angrily,
occasionally uttering its long, uncanny yell, which echoed back from the
dark mountain and sounded like a dozen bobcats yelling in concert.
“Oh, just hear him yell; he’d jump straight on us, only for the fire.
Say, we can’t pick up much more wood round here,” announced Jud,
finally. “We can’t climb up above either, on account of the rocky roof,
and if we go down below he’ll sure jump straight on us. What’ll we do, I
wonder?”
“Oh, say, Jud, what can we do, anyhow?” gasped Tom.
“We’ll have to climb down an’ risk his jumping, I guess. I’ll go, Tom. I
ain’t afraid, much,” spoke Jud, bravely.
Jud threw the last armful of dry spruce upon the fire, and was just
about to climb down the ledge pluckily after more, when both boys heard
a far-off, whimpering yell, which came through the woods from somewhere.
“Say, what’s that, Jud? Another one of them things, do you think?” asked
Tom, anxiously.
“Sounds mighty like one, but then it’s a long ways off, down below
somewhere.”
“But if it comes up here, we can’t fight two of ’em, can we, Jud?”
“No, but we can keep ’em off with clubs. Here, you take this one; it’s
got knots all over it; and I’ll find one for myself. We’ll crawl into
the den and then if they chase us we’ll whack ’em over the head,” said
Jud.
Just then another long, whimpering call came from down below the ledge,
and then, instead of leaping, as it might, over the dying fire onto the
ledge, as the boys had expected every instant the great cat would do,
with its pointed ears laid back upon its flat skull the bobcat, from its
perch upon the dead limb, sent back one long, answering yell into the
night and began to slide and claw its way hastily down out of the tall
tree without even deigning to notice the two boys. For, to tell the
truth, the bobcat had only been interested in its little family all the
while, and not in the boys at all, and so now with no thought but to
follow its mate, whose appealing call had come to it from below, and
anxious to get away as far as possible from the bewildering, hateful
glare of the flames, which it hated, the wild creature soon caught the
welcome, wild scent of the mother cat, and loped off into the dark
silence of the night, leaving the two boys alone in safe, undisturbed
possession of the bobcat’s den.
[Illustration: WHY AHMUK THE BEAVER MOVED]
XIV
WHY AHMUK THE BEAVER MOVED
Through the summer days most of the wild dwellers of swamp and woods
lead rather an idle, care-free life, as is their habit, thinking very
little of autumn or winter, because it is a long way off; of course we
have to except the squirrels, who are so very thrifty that they run back
and forth, industriously storing their winter supplies all summer long.
Then, too, there is the beaver family, who are perhaps the busiest
creatures of all the wild kindred of the woods.
Wise and thrifty was Ahmuk, the King of a Beaver Colony who lived down
in the swamp, and so old was he that actually tufts of snow-white hairs
mingled with his stiff, bristling whiskers on either side of his round,
furry face. He ruled over the company of beavers who made up his
particular colony in the wisest manner, and kept them all busy, which is
a trait of the beaver family. One often hears the remark that “he
worked like a beaver,” and you had only to watch Ahmuk and his family at
work to understand just what this saying meant, for they worked away
summer and winter, rain or shine, and, when necessary, all through the
night, especially in freshet time.
One day, after Ahmuk had hastily called a council together, all the
beavers, young and old, hurriedly began to tear down their old cabins
beside the stream and move them higher up on the bank. The beaver cabins
were built upon a solid foundation of sticks and brush, rounded off at
the top, and neatly plastered over with mud, clay and sod, which they
slapped into place with their flat, spade-like tails, which they use
almost as well as another pair of hands.
The stream where Ahmuk and his colony lived ran through the heart of the
great swamp, so they had many other neighbors; they never quarreled,
however, for beavers are most amiable in disposition, and inclined to be
friendly with all their wild kindred. Musquash, the muskrat, and his
great tribe lived close by, and were a sort of cousin to the beaver
family, for their habits were quite similar, and they also built their
lodges along the banks of the stream. All through the rank grasses of
the swamp, and threading the tall reeds you might see their winding,
well-worn trails.
One day when Musquash the muskrat swam past the cabins of Ahmuk the
beaver, he saw them at work moving their lodges, and paused to watch
them, even forgetting to munch a prize of lily roots because of his
great curiosity. He saw them all out upon the bank, working away for
dear life, and hurrying madly, never stopping an instant, as they tore
down all the old foundations and moved them far above the old site.
“Now I wonder what that’s for?” thought Musquash to himself; “it seems
to me that my cousins the beavers are always making themselves a lot of
unnecessary work. Moving again? How foolish! Well, I don’t intend to
move my family again this season; the old huts are quite good enough;”
and then Musquash, having satisfied his curiosity, lazily paddled
himself down-stream leaving a long line of bubbles in the brown water to
show where he had passed.
Now, if Musquash had but tarried long enough to ask Ahmuk why he was
moving he might have been a great deal wiser, and thus saved himself
much trouble and sorrow, for Ahmuk was so very wise that he knew that a
big flood was coming very soon; and sure enough it did, and then the
water rose and rose for days, until it washed away all the muskrat
cabins, and even drowned out some of the little muskrats who were tucked
away in distant chambers of the settlement, and were too young to swim
and save themselves. But high and dry, far up on the bank above the
great flood, stood the cabins of Ahmuk the beaver, quite safe; their
work had not been in vain.
Soon after the great flood Ahmuk and the colony began to work building a
wonderful, great dam, for they wished to make the stream into a pond. So
they began to chop down great trees, gnawing them in such a manner that
they cut the deepest place in the tree trunk next to the water, so that
it would fall that way, and thus they would be saved the trouble of
dragging the log a distance. Ahmuk and his tribe had such strong,
chisel-like teeth that they could soon chop down quite a large tree,
then they would gnaw out deep grooves all around the trunk, and chisel
out the wood pulp in great chips, and just as soon as the tree got ready
to fall, Ahmuk would slap a loud warning signal with his tail, and all
the colony would scuttle away for safety to a high bank, when down came
the tree with a mighty crash. When the danger was over and the tree
down, back they would all come, and set to work trimming off the
branches of the tree, precisely as the lumbermen do. They would then cut
the trunk into suitable lengths for building the dam. It was great fun
to watch Ahmuk directing the work of the dam building. Altogether they
would push the log off into the water, then several of the young, strong
beavers would shove it into place, and then they all set to work
bringing gravel, mud and stones to fill up and cement the crevices
together. They were always careful to build against the current, so that
their work might not be washed away. Sometimes the large logs had to be
drawn from some distance away from the dam; then Ahmuk would set them
all to work, and they would actually dig out a channel right through the
soft mud of the swamp, and float the log down to the dam.
At last the dam was finished and sentinels appointed to watch it day and
night, for just as soon as a sentinel would discover a break in the dam
he would awaken all the colony, and out they would tumble from the
cabins, and work all night if necessary to make it safe and strong
again. Sometimes Ahmuk even found it necessary to build a smaller dam
below the large one to protect it. Then, too, when he found a low spot
anywhere along the bank, he set them all to work building it up high
enough to keep the water from running out of their pond. So you can
readily understand that the dam required constant attention to keep it
safe. When everything was in fine shape, the new pond soon became so
deep that all sorts of strange new water plants, which the beavers
loved, began to grow in the deeper water, while down from the smaller
streams came trout, pickerel, and bull-pouts to live in the thick
growths of water-weeds; and best of all, the pond lilies grew and
floated upon the surface of the new pond, and every morning spread out
their white, dewy petals in the early dawn; while below, in the dim,
green depths of the water, trailed the long, succulent lily roots which
Ahmuk and his family loved to feed upon.
The building of the great dam, and the making of the pond brought plenty
of new neighbors to the spot: the great blue heron and her family, the
kingfisher tribe, and many others, because the Beaver Colony had made
the place so beautiful and inviting, and there were wonderful new things
to be found in the pond. The long summer days came, and in the beaver
cabins the family of Ahmuk was becoming so large that Ahmuk held
counsel with the colony, and they finally decided that the time had come
when the younger families must start out and look for a new place to
live in. So, as the beaver family are very sociable, and always like to
travel in companies, they all set off together one fine moonlight night
to seek a new place for their dam-building, and to found another
village.
The colony traveled together a long distance, for they really could not
decide just where to settle, because each place which they came to
seemed not just what they were looking for, not nearly as fine a
location as the old village had been. Then, too, when the longing for
wandering seizes the beavers they are prone to make long journeys into
strange countries before they settle down. But finally Ahmuk, rather
tired of wandering, and anxious to get back home, if the truth were
known, advised them that they had found the proper spot at last, for he
saw that there would be plenty of fine young timber close at hand for
them to build a dam. So, altogether, they set to work and built a
beautiful new dam, and then when it was finished Ahmuk, just to
encourage the young beavers, and wishing to leave them comfortably
settled, helped them build three fine roomy cabins on the edge of the
stream; and making sure that they had plenty of tender young green
saplings to nibble on in their larder, Ahmuk and his faithful old mate
bade the younger colony farewell and journeyed back to their old home.
Now it so happened that the swamp had always been the safest kind of a
home for the Beaver Colony, for seldom did anything ever disturb its
wild inhabitants or enter the swamp. But slowly and surely men are
beginning to search out and find the secret hiding-places of all little
furry creatures of the wood, and while Ahmuk had been far off, at the
very source of the stream up in the region of the tall pines, where the
little mountain torrents and trout streams are born, a trapper had
visited the camp of Ahmuk the beaver. He discovered the deserted cabins
and the fine dam, and well knowing the habits of the beaver, he decided
that they had simply gone off on a little pleasure excursion, for he did
not believe they would willingly give up their fine dam and cabins, and
thought they would return in time. So, very warily and cunningly, the
trapper set his snares, because one must be exceedingly crafty and wise
to trap a beaver.
Back from their long, tiresome wanderings came Ahmuk and his mate, and
even though they were weary they both set to work making repairs upon
the dam, for something had torn it apart; perhaps the hoofs of clumsy
old Megalup, the caribou, or even Unk-Wunk the mischievous porcupine,
who just loved to gnaw and gnaw, and destroy every log which came in his
way.
When Ahmuk and his mate had finished repairing the dam, they went to
their cabin to rest, but Ahmuk happened to remember a little chink which
he thought should be strengthened, so turned back to the dam to stow
away a few more stones, while his mate entered the cabin. Soon he heard
her give a sharp cry of distress, and hurrying to the cabin he soon saw
that she had been caught in a cruel trap, which had been deftly
concealed beneath the cabin floor. Instantly Ahmuk set about trying to
free his mate from the cruel steel teeth, which had nipped into her leg.
Bravely they tugged and worked, trying to free her, but in vain. Then,
in desperation, Ahmuk, wild with anxiety, with bulging, anxious eyes,
set to work with his chisel-like teeth, and as gently as he could he
sawed through the leg of his brave little mate, and she was free. True,
she had to leave one little black foot behind in the trap, but she
didn’t mind that.
Ahmuk and his mate took to the water, and swam swiftly away, leaving
behind them forever the beautiful dam and their comfortable cabins. And
now afar off, in a spot which it is doubtful if any trapper will ever
discover, live Ahmuk and his mate, with a fine new family. They have
already built a new dam, and right in the center of it, watchful as
ever, you may see Ahmuk himself sitting, erect as a soldier, a sentinel
on guard duty; while close by among the thick jungle of the forest the
whippoorwills and little brown screech owls keep him company, and his
mate and the beaver children sleep safely, not so very far off, in their
fine, new cabin on the bank of the pond.
[Illustration: NICODEMUS, KING OF CROW COLONY]
XV
NICODEMUS, KING OF CROW COLONY
“Caw-r-r, caw-r-r, caw-r-r-r,” called the leaders of Crow Colony,
scolding and consulting together. It was spring down in Balsam Swamp,
and they were preparing to disband and make their nests in which to
raise their young.
On the very tip-top of a giant balsam, which had been broken off by the
fierce winter gales, Nicodemus, king of the Crow Colony, had, year after
year, built his nest. You see, the top of the balsam, being broken off,
formed quite a broad platform, just the very spot for a crow’s nest.
From its lofty height the whole surrounding country lay spread out
beneath like a great map. Besides, the high balsam was sure to be a safe
spot, for the tree was very hard to climb, its branches growing at such
a great distance from the ground.
Now all winter long the crows had lived together in a colony, but as
soon as the sap began to ascend in the maple trees, and even before the
thin ice was gone from the water-holes down in the swamp, they began to
disband and to come forth from their sheltered retreats in the dense
pine forests out into the open country.
Among the very first ones to commence housekeeping for the season was
Nicodemus. He was the recognized leader, or king of the colony, because
of his age and also because he was very wise and much the strongest crow
in the flock. He always chose the most popular young crow in the colony
for his mate, fighting and battling with the others for her company, and
always getting the best of his rivals.
Now, secretly, Nicodemus was envied and hated by all the other crows,
but not one of them had courage enough to approach very near the balsam
tree, which Nicodemus appropriated for his home. He let it be understood
quite plainly that they must leave him severely alone.
A fine, handsome fellow was Nicodemus. One would easily have selected
him as ruler of the colony, for his great glossy black wings, when
spread, were wider than those of any other crow in the flock; and his
feathers glistened in the sun with burnished-bronze effects which made
all the other crows seem quite dull and homely in comparison, and his
round, sparkling brown eyes were so very keen and crafty that little
escaped him. Nicodemus was also a great tyrant, and had never been
whipped in battle--no, not even by the gray hawk who lived in the top of
a giant sycamore, on the far side of the swamp. Occasionally the gray
hawk would skim low over the nest of Nicodemus, but the old crow would
simply take up a firm stand upon his home tree and send out short,
insolent, barking crows after the gray, shadowy hawk, or boldly chase
him back to the sycamore tree because, to tell the truth, Nicodemus
feared nothing which wore fur or feathers in those days.
So when the maples put out their coral, pendent clusters of blossoms,
and the willows and catkins down in the swamp burst forth, showing pale,
tender green against the bare gray of the thickets, then in the loose,
ill-made nest of Nicodemus, on the tip-top of the blasted balsam, there
arose such a commotion and clatter that everybody in the Crow Colony was
made aware that there were now four young crows in the family of the old
king.
“Caw-r-r, caw-r-r,” hoarsely and fretfully clamored the four scrawny
young crows just as soon as they opened their filmy young eyes, waking
up everybody about them for miles away with their peevish screams, even
before the first yellow streak of sunshine broke over the swamp.
And once fully awake, these little pin-feathery crows almost distracted
Nicodemus and his mate by their persistent cawing and fretting for food.
Off would start both Nicodemus and his mate, searching frantically for
food to fill the four ravenous mouths awaiting them back in the balsam
tree nest.
Now all this hard work was quite a fresh experience to Nicodemus, king
of the colony, for before he had a family he always foraged for himself
alone, and whenever he chanced to pounce upon an especially dainty
morsel of food he had always sought out some quiet spot, far away from
his companions, where, quite unseen, he would proceed to hurriedly
gobble down the choice bit quite selfishly. But everything was now sadly
changed for, no matter how very hungry he himself might be in the
morning, no sooner did he decide to eat his breakfast as usual than far
away, from the direction of the giant balsam tree, borne to his ears by
the wind, would come the fearful din of the four small, troublesome
crows screaming for food. So, in spite of himself, Nicodemus, who was
fond of his family in his own fashion, would go back to the nest with
whatever he had selected for his own breakfast, and feed it to the young
crows. Sometimes it seemed well-nigh impossible to satisfy their ever
increasing appetites for, as they grew larger, they clamored louder and
louder to be fed, and in spite of the combined efforts of himself and
his mate they were sometimes at their very wit’s end to find food,
because, you see, other crows of the colony were also raising families,
and food was not always to be found at once.
However, Nicodemus was so old and crafty that he soon learned to seek
for food in odd places quite unknown to other crows.
Now in secluded spots the boys had set their muskrat traps, and in a
certain spot by the brook where lived the mink family were snares and
traps. Secretly Nicodemus visited them all, and, when possible, helped
himself liberally to whatever he found in the traps. So that the boys
never could understand why the traps were sprung sometimes, and
occasionally a tuft of muskrat fur, or the tip of a toe left in the
trap.
One day Nicodemus, after visiting all the traps along the waterways,
found them all empty but one, and that contained nothing but a stale
chicken’s head, which Nicodemus saw lying quite carelessly upon one of
the traps. He was about to turn from the unwholesome bait in disgust,
for he craved something better, when, wafted on the spring air came the
loud noise of fretful cawing.
“Caw-r-r, caw-r-r,” squalled the young crows, which meant, “More, more,
more.”
At the unwelcome sound of their cawing, Nicodemus, fiercely hungry
himself, and terribly desperate, made a quick grab at the bait in the
trap, and the next instant he wished he had left it alone, for to his
surprise and dismay some sudden force, unsuspected and unseen, clutched
at, and bit into his leg, and he was held a prisoner. Oh, how he
thrashed and beat his great wings, but the more he struggled and
thrashed the tighter the steel teeth of the trap gripped and held him,
until finally, just about dusk, the boy who owned the trap came and
discovered Nicodemus caught in the trap.
“Nothing but an old crow caught in my trap,” grumbled the boy in
disgust, for he had hoped to find a mink. Then, just as he was about to
throw out the crow, the thought came to him to take it home and tame it.
The next thing Nicodemus knew he was taken to the barn-yard by the boy,
who drove a small stake into the ground and fastened him there
securely. But Nicodemus thrashed about so madly that he soon broke the
cord which secured him, and then the boy brought a great pair of
scissors and clipped off the large wing feathers so he could not fly
away; Nicodemus now became subdued and helpless. What a position for the
king of Crow Colony. But worse yet was to come to him, for some one told
the boy that if you will split the tongue of a crow it will soon learn
to speak. Accordingly the tongue of Nicodemus was split, and soon, to
the great delight of the boy, Nicodemus began to croak out something
which sounded almost like “Hello.”