THE BEAVERS.
Doña Luz gently pushed aside the branches of the willows and bending her
head forward, she surveyed the scene.
The beavers had not only intercepted the course of the river by means
of their industrious community, but, still further, all the rivulets
that ran into it had their courses stopped, so as to transform the
surrounding ground into one vast marsh.
One beaver alone was at work, at the moment, on the principal dam; but
very shortly five others appeared, carrying pieces of wood, mud, and
bushes. They then all together directed their course towards a part
of the barrier which, as the lady could perceive, needed repair. They
deposited their load on the broken part, and plunged into the water, but
only to reappear almost instantly on the surface.
Everyone brought up a certain quantity of slimy mud, which they employed
as mortar to join and render firm the pieces of wood and the bushes;
they went away and returned again with more wood and mud; in short, this
work of masonry was carried on till the breach had entirely disappeared.
As soon as all was in order, the industrious animals enjoyed a moment's
recreation; they pursued each other in the pond, plunged to the bottom
of the water, or sported on the surface, striking the water noisily with
their tails.
Doña Luz beheld this singular spectacle with increasing interest. She
could have remained the whole day watching these strange animals.
Whilst the first were amusing themselves thus, two other members of the
community appeared. For some time they looked gravely on at the sports
of their companions, without showing any inclination to join them; then
climbing up the steep bank not far from the spot where the trapper and
the young girl were watching, they seated themselves upon their hind
paws, leaning the fore ones upon a young pine, and beginning to gnaw the
bark of it. Sometimes they detached a small piece, and held it between
their paws, still remaining seated; they nibbled it with contortions and
grimaces pretty much resembling those of a monkey shelling a walnut.
The evident object of these beavers was to cut down the tree, and they
laboured at it earnestly. It was a young pine of about eighteen inches
in diameter at the part where they attacked it, as straight as an arrow,
and of considerable height. No doubt they would soon have succeeded
in cutting it through; but the general, uneasy at the prolonged
absence of his niece, made up his mind to go in search of her, and the
beavers, terrified at the noise of the horses, dived into the water and
disappeared.
The general reproached his niece gently for her long absence; but she,
delighted with what she had seen, did not heed him, and promised herself
to be frequently an invisible spectator of the proceedings of the
beavers.
The little party, under the direction of the trapper, directed their
course towards the rancho, in which he had offered them shelter from
the burning rays of the sun, which was now at its zenith.
Doña Luz, whose curiosity was excited to the highest pitch by the
attractive spectacle at which she had been present, determined to make
up for her uncle's unwelcome interruption by asking Black Elk all the
particulars of the habits of the beavers, and the manner in which they
were caught.
The trapper, like all men who live much alone, had no objection, when
opportunity offered, to relax from the silence he was generally obliged
to preserve, and therefore did not require much pressing.
"Oh, oh, señorita," he said, "the redskins say that the beaver is a man
who does not speak; and they are right--he is brave, wise, prudent,
industrious, and economical. Thus, when winter arrives, the whole family
go to work to prepare provisions; young as well as old, all work. They
are often obliged to make long journeys to find the bark they prefer.
They sometimes bring down moderately large trees, cutting off the
branches, whose bark is most to their taste; they cut it into pieces
about three feet long, and transport them to the water, where they
set them floating towards their huts, in which they store them. Their
habitations are clean and convenient. They take great care, after their
repasts, to throw into the current of the river, below the dam, the
piece of wood off which they have gnawed the bark. They never permit a
strange beaver to come and establish himself near them, and often fight
with the greatest fury to secure the freedom of their territories."
"Oh! nothing can be more curious than all this!" Doña Luz exclaimed.
"Ah, but," the trapper rejoined, "that is not all. In the spring,
which is the generating season, the male leaves the female in the
house, and goes, like a great lord, on a tour of pleasure; sometimes to
a great distance, sporting in the limpid waters he falls in with, And
climbing their banks to gnaw the tender branches of the young poplars
and willows. But when summer comes, he abandons his bachelor life and
returns to his mate and her new progeny, which he leads to forage in
search of provisions for winter."
"It must be confessed," said the general, "that this animal is one of
the most interesting in creation."
"Yes," Doña Luz added, "and I cannot understand how people can make up
their minds to hunt them as if they were mischievous beasts."
"What is to be said for it, señorita?" the trapper replied,
philosophically; "all animals were created for man--this one above
others, its fur is so valuable."
"That is true," said the general; "but," he added, "how do you set about
this chase? All beavers are not so confiding as these; there are some
that conceal their huts with extreme care."
"Yes," Black Elk replied; "but habit has given the experienced trapper
so certain a glance, that he discovers, by the slightest sign, the track
of a beaver; and although the hut be concealed by thick underwood and
the willows which shade it, it is very seldom that he cannot guess the
exact number of its inhabitants. He then places his trap, fastens it to
the bank, two or three inches under water, and secures it by a chain to
a pole strongly fixed in the mud or sand. A little twig is then deprived
of its bark, and soaked in the medicine, for so we call the bait we
employ; this twig is so placed as to rise three or four inches above
the water, whilst its extremity is fixed in the opening of the trap. The
beaver, which is endowed with a very subtle smell, is quickly attracted
by the odour of the bait. As soon as it advances its snout to seize it,
its foot is caught in the trap. In great terror, it tries to dive into
the water, but the chained trap resists all its efforts; it struggles
for some time, but at last, its strength being exhausted, it sinks to
the bottom of the water, and is drowned. This, señorita, is the way
in which beavers are generally taken. But in rocky beds, where it is
not possible to fix the poles to retain the trap, we are often obliged
to search for a length of time for the captured beavers, and even to
swim to great distances. It also happens that when several members of
the same family have been taken, the others become mistrustful. Then,
whatever stratagems we have recourse to, it is impossible to get them
to bite the bait. They approach the traps with precaution, let off the
spring with a stick, and often even turn the traps upside down, dragging
them under their dam, and burying them in the mud.
"What do you do then?" Doña Luz asked.
"Why, then," Black Elk replied, "we have but one thing left to do, and
that is, throw our traps upon our backs, own ourselves beaten by the
beavers, and go further afield to seek others less Cunning. But here is
my rancho."
At this moment the travellers arrived at a miserable hut, made of
interlaced branches of trees, scarcely capable of sheltering them from
the rays of the sun, and in every respect resembling, as regarded
convenience, those of other trappers of the prairies, who are men that
trouble themselves the least about the comforts of life.
Nevertheless, such as it was, Black Elk did the honours of it very
warmly to the strangers.
A second trapper was squatting before the hut, occupied in watching the
roasting of the buffalo's hump which Black Elk had promised his guests.
This man, whose costume was in all respects like that of Black Elk, was
scarcely forty years old; but the fatigue and numberless miseries of his
hard profession had dug upon his face such a network of inextricable
wrinkles as made him look older than he was in reality.
In fact, there does not exist in the world a more dangerous, more
painful, or less profitable trade than that of a trapper. These poor
people are often, whether by Indians or hunters, robbed of their
hard-earned gains, scalped, and massacred, and no one troubles himself
to learn what has become of them.
"Take your place, señorita; and you also, gentlemen," said Black Elk,
politely. "However poor my hut may be, it is large enough to contain you
all."
The travellers cheerfully accepted his invitation; they alighted from
their horses, and were soon stretched comfortably upon beds of dry
leaves, covered with the skins of bears, elks, and buffaloes.
The repast--truly a hunter's repast--was washed down with some cups
of excellent mezcal which the general always carried with him in his
expeditions, and which the trappers appreciated as it deserved.
Whilst Doña Luz, the guide, and the lanceros, took a siesta of a few
minutes, till the heat of the sun's rays should be a little abated, the
general, begging Black Elk to follow him, went out of the hut.
As soon as they were at a sufficient distance, the general seated
himself at the foot of an ebony tree, motioning for his companion to
follow his example which he immediately did.
After a moment's silence, the general said,--
"Allow me, my friend, in the first place, to thank you for your frank
hospitality. That duty performed, I wish to put a few questions to you."
"Caballero!" the trapper replied, evasively, "you know what the redskins
say: between every word smoke your calumet, in order to weigh your words
well."
"You speak like a sensible man; but be satisfied that I have no
intention of putting questions to you that concern your profession, or
any object that can affect you personally."
"If I am able to answer you, caballero, be assured I will not hesitate
to satisfy you."
"Thank you, friend, I expected no less from you. How long have you been
an inhabitant of the prairies?"
"Ten years, already, sir; and God grant I may remain here as many more."
"This sort of life pleases you then?"
"More than I can tell you. A man must, as I have done, begin it almost
as a boy, undergo all the trials, endure all the sufferings, partake
all its hazards, in order to understand all the intoxicating charms it
procures, the celestial joys it gives, and the unknown pleasures into
which it plunges us! Oh! caballero, the most beautiful and largest city
of old Europe is very little, very dirty, very mean compared with the
desert. Your cramped, regulated, compassed life is miserable compared
to ours! It is here only that man feels the air penetrate easily into
his lungs, that he lives, that he thinks. Civilization brings him down
almost to the level of the brute, leaving him no instinct but that which
enables him to pursue sordid interests. Whereas, in the desert, in the
prairie, face to face with God, his ideas enlarge, his spirit grows,
and he becomes really what the Supreme Being meant to make him; that is
to say, the king of the creation."
Whilst pronouncing these words the trapper was, in a manner,
transfigured; his countenance assumed an inspired expression, his eyes
flashed fire, and his gestures were impressed with that nobleness which
passion alone gives.
The general sighed deeply, a furtive tear trickled over his grey
moustache.
"That's true," he said, sadly; "this life has strange charms for the man
who has tasted it, and they attach him by bonds nothing can break. When
you arrived in the prairies, whence did you come?"
"I came from Quebec, sir; I am a Canadian."
"Ah!"
A silence of a few minutes ensued, but it was, at length, broken by the
general.
"Have you many Mexicans among your companions?"
"Many."
"I should like to obtain some information respecting them."
"There is only one man who could give you any, sir; and, unfortunately,
that man is not at this moment here."
"And he is called?"
"Loyal Heart."
"Loyal Heart!" the general replied, warmly; "surely I know that man."
"Yes, you do."
"Good heavens! what a fatality!"
"Perhaps it will be more easy than you suppose to meet with him again,
if you really wish to see him."
"I have an immense interest in wishing it."
"Then make your mind easy; you will soon see him."
"How so?"
"Oh! very simply. Loyal Heart lays his traps near me; at the present
time I am watching them; but it cannot be long before he returns."
"God grant it may be so!" said the general, with great agitation.
"As soon as he comes I will send you word, if between this and then you
have not quitted your camp."
"Do you know where my troop is encamped?"
"We know everything in the desert," the trapper said, with a smile.
"I accept your promise."
"You have my word, sir."
"Thank you."
At that moment Doña Luz came out of the hut; after having made Black Elk
a sign to recommend silence, the general hastened to join her.
The travellers remounted their horses, and after thanking the trappers
for their cordial hospitality, they again took the road to the camp.