“BUSY AS BEAVERS”
“Come on, fellows,” said Jack, “let’s go and take a swim.”
Dinner was over and the Scouts lay in various attitudes on the grass
a little distance from the mess tent. The day had been unbearably
hot. Usually there was a breeze that somewhat tempered the fierceness
of the sun, and at night, indeed, it was so cool that their blankets
felt mighty good.
This was the first really hot day that they had had since they had
pitched camp. They had started out on a game of Mountain Scouting
during the morning, but Mr. Durland, who feared the effects of the
sun combined with violent exercise, had limited the range of their
run and they had come home earlier than usual. Now nearly an hour had
elapsed since their dinner had been eaten--or shall we say “gorged”?
because with appetites like theirs that was the most fitting
term,--and sufficient time had passed to make the proposed swim a
matter of no danger.
The boys greeted Jack’s suggestion with a shout, and after obtaining
Mr. Durland’s permission, started off, running and leaping, kicking
up their heels like young colts, for the swimming place a little way
from camp.
It was an ideal spot. The brook, starting from a point high up
in the mountains and cold as ice at the beginning, was gradually
tempered as it flowed under the sunlight into the lower levels and
in the meantime also widened its course. At the point that the boys
had chosen, it had spread out into a small pond or lake perhaps
three hundred feet in width. Its course had also been checked by
the level nature of the bottom at that point, so that it lay, with
scarcely a perceptible movement, gleaming in the sun, which warmed
it sufficiently to make swimming a delight. In places it was only
three or four feet deep, but toward the southern end there was a
depth of eight or ten feet that made it suitable for diving. The
younger boys and those whose skill as swimmers was not very great,
chose the upper part where, under the direction of Dick Crawford,
the Assistant Scout-Master, those unable to swim rapidly learned,
while those who simply knew the breast stroke were taught one by one
the more scientific crawl and over-hand stroke that are the envy and
despair of the small boy when he sees them put in practice by his
larger companions. Tom and Pete and Bob were down with Jack at the
southern end of the pool and as all were expert swimmers and the bank
was within easy reach, to say nothing of the assistance that would
be instantly rendered by any of their companions, should ill luck
befall, were left to do as they liked.
They had found a heavy plank a few yards distant from the bank and
had placed it over the log of a fallen tree so that it rose at a
gradual angle until, where it overhung the stream, it was about ten
feet from the water. The end that rested on the ground was firmly
wedged between heavy rocks that the boys had gathered, capped by a
section of tree trunk, so that, no matter what might be the strain
at the other end, it was impossible for it to slip or yield. It made
a capital springboard and the Scouts had a glorious time playing
follow my leader. The slope of the plank was so gradual that they got
a good running start, and, reaching the end of the plank, with hands
upraised over their heads, were flung out in a graceful curve coming
down head foremost, straight as an arrow, and seeing how far they
could swim under water before the need of breath compelled them to
come to the surface.
Jack’s familiarity with woodcraft and the lonely life of his early
boyhood when he was left so largely to his own devices and to what
enjoyment he could procure unaided from nature had made him a
splendid swimmer. He could dive forward and backward. He could sit
at the end of the springboard and from a sitting position leap to
his feet on the edge of the board and dive into the water with just
one motion. Once in the water, he swam like a fish. He could float
and on occasion had done so for an hour at a time without changing
his position. His action in swimming was grace itself. Now after the
boys were tired of sporting in the water, he pressed his hands close
against his side and swam from one end of the pool to the other,
using simply his feet.
“Gee,” said Tom, who had never seen Jack swim this way before, “where
did you learn that stroke, Jack?”
“Oh,” said Jack carelessly, “I got that from the beavers.”
“Beavers?” said Pete, with interest. “Do they swim that way?
“Sure!” said Jack. “Their front paws are very small and they have
to rely entirely upon the back ones. These are webbed like those of
a duck up to the root of the nails, and it’s one of the prettiest
things you ever saw to see a beaver swim. There is scarcely a ripple.
The front feet are perfectly motionless, pressed close up against its
side, while its head, with its shining fur and its keen, bright eyes
that seem to look in every direction at once, moves in a perfectly
straight line toward the front door of his house.”
“House?” said Tom, incredulously. “What do you mean by that?”
“Just exactly what I say,” said Jack. “Haven’t you ever heard of
beavers’ houses? Why, there isn’t a more intelligent builder among
all the animals I know about, and I’ve watched almost every one of
them! It’s not only a big house, but a well-made one. The beaver is
never satisfied with anything but perfection. It has a lot of rooms
in it and these are carpeted with leaves and moss and grass. The
upper rooms are sometimes six or eight feet above the surface of
the water so as to be perfectly dry. The wise old rascal knows that
sometimes there is a freshet that raises the level of the stream and
he makes his plan accordingly. There isn’t a thing about carpentering
or mason work that he doesn’t know. And he has to make his house
strong, too, because he has a good many enemies. The wolves and
wolverines are after him all the time and unless he had something
that they could not bite through or claw through, it would be all up
with Mr. Beaver.”
By this time all the boys had become interested in Jack’s description
and had gathered around him.
“You’re a lucky dog, Jack,” said Bob. “You’ve seen a whole lot of
things that us city fellows don’t know anything about.”
“Well,” said Jack, “there is no reason why you shouldn’t find out
all about the beaver, because I know for a fact that there are some
not far from camp. Just the other day I caught sight of a beaver dam
about three miles the other side of the logging camp. I was going to
speak to you fellows about it at the time, but Don just then started
up a woodchuck and we all got so excited that I forgot. What do you
say to dressing and going over there now? It won’t be so much of
a hike and as the camp is on our way, we will drop in and ask Mr.
Durland about it so that he won’t be worried if we don’t get back
until just before supper time. There is nothing else on hand for this
afternoon and I am mighty sure that he will let us go. Wouldn’t be a
bit surprised if he wanted to come along with us!”
The plan was greeted enthusiastically and after the fellows at the
other end of the pool had been told about it, they rushed out and
dressed quite as quickly as the rest. Then they hiked back to camp
and put the matter before the Scout-Master, who readily assented to
the trip, and, as Jack had foreseen, was very glad to go along. After
a little more than an hour’s tramp Jack held up his hand in caution.
“You’ve got to be careful now, Scouts,” he said. “They’re wary old
fellows and the least thing disturbs them. If they once suspect that
we are anywhere near, it’s good-night with us. Those big, bright eyes
will see us all right but we won’t catch a glimpse of them. Now’s the
time for you Scouts to show what you know of woodcraft and follow me
as silently as a band of Indians.”
Thus cautioned, the boys fell in behind Jack and, carefully avoiding
stepping upon twigs or speaking above a whisper, soon reached the
dam. They were on the banks of a mountain stream that wound its way
through the woods until at the point where they stood it was perhaps
a hundred feet in width. Just below them the progress of the stream
had been checked by what seemed at first sight a narrow bridge
extending from one bank to the other. This was about three feet wide
and perfectly smooth.
As Jack whispered to Dick, who was the nearest, this was made just
wide enough so that the beavers in going to and fro could pass each
other in comfort.
It evidently grew a great deal thicker as it approached the surface
of the water and at the lowest part was probably ten or twelve
feet thick. As the current was not especially strong, this served
effectually to make an almost unrippled pond such as the beavers
love. It was not exactly straight across but bent in slightly on the
side that pointed up stream so that at the center it was decidedly
curved.
This, as Jack further whispered, was to break the force of the
current and shunt it off gradually to each side of the dam.
It was the same principle that in a racing automobile gives the
cigar-like point to the machine so as to act as a wedge going into
the wind and lessening by that much its resistance. The base of the
dam was formed by young saplings and branches of trees that had
been cut by the beavers’ teeth and planted as piles. Between these
they had woven blades of grass and strips of bark so as to hold the
branches straight and form a foundation for the mason work that was
coming next. For the wise little creatures knew perfectly well the
force of the current, and were determined to make a good job while
they were at it. They had made mortar from the gravel and clay on
the bank of the stream, using their broad, flat tails as a trowel
for mixing. They must have had to travel to and fro thousands of
times before they completed the work and built around their temporary
outlines of plaited branches the solid wall of masonry. They knew
enough also not to make it top-heavy, and so gradually sloped it from
the bottom to the top, making it more compact by slapping it with
their tails until at last it stood almost like a wall of granite.
They watched over the dam day and night. No Hollander was ever more
careful to prevent a leak in the dikes than they were to keep their
dam perfectly solid. They knew that a little carelessness at the
start might spoil the work of years.
While the boys were looking open-eyed at this specimen of the
beavers’ work, Jack suddenly whispered, “’Sh, here they come! Now
keep perfectly still, boys, and you will see something worth while.”
From one of the mound-like houses up the stream a large beaver came
out, slowly looking around him with infinite caution before he left
the safety of his home. He was about two feet long in addition to
a flat oval tail that made his total length nearly three feet. His
nose was blunt, his ears small, and his eyes wonderfully soft and
intelligent. He carefully scanned the banks and the surface of the
stream, and, satisfied at length, paddled slowly toward the dam.
Something in its appearance must have alarmed him, for suddenly he
lifted his tail and struck it several times against the side of the
dam. At the sound, as though it were a signal, two or three other
beavers emerged from their houses and rapidly joined him. They swam
toward a point on the farther side, where the boys, now that their
attention was attracted to it, could see that a little stream was
trickling through and falling to the lower level of the creek beyond.
In an instant all was activity, although there was no confusion. They
acted as though they were perfectly disciplined and each knew just
what he had to do. Two of them swam to the farther bank, climbed up
and began to tear with their sharp teeth at some slender saplings.
It was astonishing to see how quickly they had gnawed their way
through and how adroitly they moved to one side when it fell. These
they dragged to the edge of the bank, plunged into the water, holding
an end in their teeth, and swam quickly toward the threatened point.
Then two or three of them got together and pushed the young branches
in among the others. One of them in the meantime had taken up his
position on the bank and was rapidly making mortar, doing it as
skillfully as the most experienced mason, pounding the clay and mud
and stones together until it reached an even consistency and at times
flirting water upon it with his tail. Then gathering up as much as he
could carry between his two front paws and chin and with head held
well out of the water he swam to the others, just as Jack had said,
using his hind feet alone. There he dropped his load and returned for
another.
By this time the others had done whatever work was necessary with
the branches, and all devoted themselves to the mortar, working with
incredible rapidity and never stopping for a moment. How long it
would have taken to complete the repairs the boys never knew, for
at that moment Tom, who in his eagerness had bent forward, lost his
balance and fell with a crash to the ground. The wary creatures heard
him instantly and like a flash turned and made for their homes. A
moment after the surface of the water was as smooth as a mill-pond
and none would have dreamed of the life and activity of a moment
before.
“Well,” said Bob Hart, angrily, “of all the bone-heads!”
“Bone-head yourself!” said Tom. “How could I help it? Do you suppose
I fell on purpose?”
“Come, come, boys!” said Mr. Durland. “We all know it was an accident
and nobody is more sorry than Tom himself. But I guess there is no
use waiting here any longer. You can be perfectly sure that there
will be nothing doing now for the rest of the day.”
He rose to his feet and the others followed toward the camp, so full
of wonder and excitement at what they had seen that it completely
overshadowed their chagrin at Tom’s carelessness, and he got off more
easily than he had expected.
All that evening when supper was over and cleared away the boys were
so full of the events of the afternoon that they could hardly think
of anything else.
“My,” said Bob, “did you see that beaver’s teeth? I’d hate to have
him bite me!”
“Well,” said Jack, “they wouldn’t bite you unless they were cornered
and had to. Then it would be a pretty healthy thing to keep out of
reach of their teeth. They are as sharp as a chisel. As a matter of
fact, the Indians use them to carve out their ornaments of bone. The
beavers use them so much that Nature has to keep hustling to supply
new material. There is an outside row that projects toward the front
and an inner row that furnishes the material to keep the outer ones
strong and keen. Sometimes a beaver loses a tooth on either the upper
or lower jaw and then the one directly opposite this keeps growing
so fast that after a while it prevents the beaver from closing his
mouth. He can’t eat and soon starves to death.”
“I wonder,” said Dick, “if that was a whole family that we saw this
afternoon.”
“I think very likely,” returned Jack, “because if there had been more
they certainly would have been on the job. The beaver is a sociable
animal and never cares to live alone. Usually there are four or five
found together, but sometimes as many as thirty or forty will gather
in a little village of their own. Each family has a separate house
and each member of the family has his own individual room, which he
keeps jealously for himself, and there is always a scrap if any one
else tries to bunk in there with him.”
“I suppose you find them almost everywhere,” said Bob Hart.
“No, you don’t,” said Jack. “They used to be very plentiful, but
their fur is in such great demand that hunters and trappers are
after them all the time. In Europe, where they used to be abundant,
there are hardly any left except in the zoos as curiosities. You
don’t find so many of them in America either now, except where it’s
cool, as it is up here, and over the line in Canada.”
“Well,” yawned Tom, as they finally got ready to go to bed, “I’d hate
to have to work as they do. Did you see how they pitched in this
afternoon? It makes me tired even to think of it.”
“Yes,” said Jack. “I guess we all know better than ever before what
it means to be as ‘busy as a beaver.’”