CAUGHT IN A TRAP.
THE two beavers walked slowly along the bank till by and by they began
to smell something very strong and sweet; at least so they thought,
though I doubt whether any one but a beaver would have liked the
perfume.
"What is that?" inquired Binney, snuffing the air.
"Let us go and see," said his guide.
So they walked toward the edge of the water, where they saw some green
twigs stuck into the mud, from which the perfume seemed to proceed.
Somehow or other Binney did not like the look of these green twigs. He
had never seen any set in that way, and he suspected something—he did
not quite know what. "See there! What track is this upon the bank?"
said he.
"A bear's, of course," said the wood-beaver, without once looking at
it. If he had done so, he would have seen that no bear ever made such
a track; but he was in such a hurry to reach the green twigs that he
could think of nothing else.
Binney followed slowly, and it was well that he did so, for in a moment
more he heard his friend scream out with pain and fear. He ran to see
what was the matter.
"O, I am caught! I am caught!" cried the poor wood-beaver, pulling with
all his might to get away. But his paw was fast in the iron trap, and
he could not get it out.
"It must be a trap, such as I have heard my great-grandmother tell of,"
said Binney, trembling; "and I dare say the strange track I saw was
that of a man. What shall we do?"
"If you would gnaw this little thing off I could get my paw out," said
the wood-beaver.
Binney gnawed with all his might, but in vain. He could not make even
the least little mark on the iron of the trap.
"There, it is all of no use," said the wood-beaver, despairingly. "You
had better run right home, and leave me to my fate, Binney! It serves
me right for leading you astray in the first place. Keep on up the
stream till you come to the dam, and be sure you tell every beaver you
meet that there is a trapper about. Make haste, or he will come back
and catch you."
"I cannot go, and leave you in this scrape," said Binney, crying
bitterly. "It was as much my fault as yours. I would bite my own paw
off rather than be caught. Beavers do so sometimes. Grandmamma told us
so."
"I cannot get at it," replied his friend. "Run, Binney, I hear him
coming!"
But before Binney could make up his mind what to do, two men burst
through the bushes with guns in their bands. One of them gave the
wood-beaver a knock on the head which killed him, while the other
seized upon Binney, who, in his fright, did not know which way to run,
and so stood still. O how he did kick and bite; but all was of no use.
He could not get away.
"What is that? A young one?" asked one of the men.
"Yes, just what we want," replied the other. "Come, let us take him to
the camp."
Binney gave himself up for lost, and expected every moment to be killed.
The man who held him, however, did not seem to wish to hurt him, and
only laughed when Binney kicked and tried to bite. The men went along
up the stream, treading quietly and making no noise, till they came
within sight of the dam, when they stopped, and set their traps around.
You may guess how Binney felt when he saw his dear old home so near,
with all his friends and relations playing about it, and yet could not
even warn them of the cruel traps. But there was no help for it.
The men set their traps, as I have said, and then went away through the
woods to a place at some distance, where they had a camp, and where
some men were sitting around a fire.
"What have you there, Victor?" asked one of them.
"A young beaver, captain," said the man who held Binney. "Just such
as the Englishman wants. He is old enough to feed, and not too old to
tame."
The captain seemed much pleased, patted Binney's head, and offered him
some bread; but the poor little beaver was far too sad and scared to
care about eating. Binney was now fastened with a light chain to the
stump of a tree, and a box was given him to run under.
For two or three days he would eat nothing; he spent his whole time
gnawing at his chain; but he grew tired of that when he found it did
no good. And by and by he grew tamer, and began to relish the bits of
bread, and twigs, and the lumps of sugar which the men gave him; and
would soon have grown fond of his captors if he had not seen them kill
so many of his acquaintances. Every day they brought into the camp
beavers which they had caught in their traps. Binney soon observed,
however, that very few of the inmates of the village were taken in this
way. Almost all the bodies were those of the lazy wood-beavers. As
soon as they were brought in, the trappers skinned them, and dried the
skins. The bodies were then thrown away or buried, for beaver meat is
not very good to eat.
After a time the men found they had as many beaver skins as they
wanted, so they broke up their camp and went away. Binney travelled
many days and nights, now by land, and now by water; sometimes on
horseback, or in a wagon; now on the cars, and again in a great ship
over the ocean, till at last he arrived at the city of London.