INDIAN BOY AND HIS PETS--TAME BEAVER AT HOME--KITTEN, WILDFIRE--PET RACOON
AND THE SPANIEL PUPPIES--CANADIAN FLORA.
"Nurse, you have told me a great many nice stories; now I can tell you one,
if you would like to hear it;" and the Governor's little daughter fixed
her bright eyes, beaming with intelligence, on the face of her nurse, who
smiled, and said she should like very much to hear the story.
"You must guess what it is to be about, nurse."
"I am afraid I shall not guess right. Is it 'Little Red Riding Hood,' or
'Old Mother Hubbard,' or 'Jack the Giant-killer?'"
"Oh, nurse, to guess such silly stories!" said the little girl, stopping
her ears. "Those are too silly for me even to tell baby! My story is a
nice story about a darling tame beaver. Major Pickford took me on his knee
and told me the story last night."
Mrs. Frazer begged Lady Mary's pardon for making such foolish guesses, and
declared she should like very much to hear Major Pickford's story of the
tame beaver.
"Well, nurse, you must know there was once a gentleman who lived in the
bush, on the banks of a small lake, somewhere in Canada, a long, long way
from Montreal. He lived all alone in a little log-house, and spent his
time in fishing and trapping and hunting; and he was very dull, for he had
no wife, and no little child like me to talk to. The only people whom he
used to see were some French lumberers; and now and then the Indians would
come in their canoes and fish on his lake, and make their wigwams on the
lake-shore, and hunt deer in the wood. The gentleman was very fond of the
Indians, and used to pass a great deal of his time with them, and talk to
them in their own language.
"Well, nurse, one day he found a poor little Indian boy who had been lost
in the woods, and was half starved, sick, and weak; and the kind gentleman
took him home to his house, and fed and nursed him till he got quite
strong again. Was not that good, nurse?"
"It was quite right, my lady. People should always be kind to the sick and
weak, and especially to a poor Indian stranger. I like the story very
much, and shall be glad to hear more about the Indian boy."
"Nurse, there is not a great deal more about the Indian boy; for when the
Indian party to which he belonged returned from hunting, he went away to
his own home; but I forgot to tell you that the gentleman had often said
how much he should like to have a young beaver to make a pet of. He was
very fond of pets; he had a dear little squirrel, just like mine, nurse, a
flying squirrel, which he had made so tame that it slept in his bosom and
lived in his pocket, where he kept nuts and acorns and apples for it to
eat; and he had a racoon too, nurse--only think, a real racoon! and Major
Pickford told me something so droll about the racoon, only I want first to
go on with the story about the beaver."
"One day, as the gentleman was sitting by the fire reading, he heard a
slight noise, and when he looked up was quite surprised to see an Indian
boy in a blanket coat, with his dark eyes fixed upon his face, while
his long black hair hung down on his shoulders. He looked quite wild, and
did not say a word, but only opened his blanket coat, and showed a
brown-furred animal asleep on his breast. What do you think it was,
nurse?"
"A young beaver, my lady."
"Yes, nurse, it was a little beaver. The good Indian boy had caught it and
tamed it on purpose to bring it to his white friend, who had been so good
to him.
"I cannot tell you all the amusing things the Indian boy said about the
beaver, though the Major told them to me; but I cannot talk like an
Indian, you know, Mrs. Frazer. After the boy went away, the gentleman set
to work and made a little log-house for his beaver to live in, and set it
in a corner of the shanty, and he hollowed a large sugar trough for its
water, that it might have water to wash in, and cut down some young
willows and poplars and birch trees for it to eat. And the little beaver
grew very fond of its new master, it would fondle him just like a little
squirrel, put its soft head on his knee, and climb up on his lap. He
taught it to eat bread, sweet cake, and biscuit, and even roast and boiled
meat, and it would drink milk too.
"Well, nurse, the little beaver lived very happily with this kind
gentleman till the next fall, and then it began to get very restless and
active, as if it were tired of doing nothing. One day its master heard of
the arrival of a friend some miles off so he left the beaver to take care
of itself, and went away, but he did not forget to give it some green
wood, and plenty of water to drink and play in. He stayed several days,
for he was very glad to meet with a friend in that lonely place, but when
he came back, he could not open his door, and was obliged to get in at the
window. What do you think the beaver had done? It had built a dam against
the side of the trough, and a wall across the door, and it had dug up the
hearth and the floor, and carried the earth and the stones to help to make
its dam, and puddled it with water, and made such work. The house was in
perfect confusion, with mud, chips bark, and stone, and oh, nurse, worse
than all that, it had gnawed through the legs of the table and chairs, and
they were lying on the floor in such a state; and it cost the poor
gentleman so much trouble to put things to rights again, and make more
chairs and another table! and when I laughed at the pranks of that wicked
beaver--for I could not help laughing--the Major pinched my ear, and
called me a mischievous puss."
Mrs. Frazer was very much entertained with the story, and she told Lady
Mary that she had heard of tame beavers doing such things before; for in
the season of the year when beavers congregate together to repair their
works and build their winter houses, those that are in confinement become
restless and unquiet, and show the instinct that moves these animals to
provide their winter retreats, and lay up their stores of food.
"Nurse," said Lady Mary, "I did not think that beavers and racoons could
be taught to eat sweet cake, and bread, and meat."
"Many animals learn to eat very different food to what they are accustomed
to live upon in a wild state. The wild cat lives on raw flesh; while the
domestic cat, you know, my dear, will eat cooked meat, and even salt meat,
with bread and milk and many other things. I knew a person who had a black
kitten called 'Wildfire,' which would sip whisky toddy out of his glass,
and seemed to like it as well as milk or water, only it made him too wild
and frisky."
"Nurse, the racoon that the gentleman had would drink sweet whisky punch;
but my governess said it was not right to give it to him; and Major
Pickford laughed, and declared the racoon must have looked very funny
when he was tipsy. Was not the Major naughty to say so?"
Mrs. Frazer said it was not quite proper.
"The racoon, Lady Mary, in its natural state, has all the wildness and
cunning of the fox and weasel. He will eat flesh, poultry, and sucking
pigs, and is also very destructive to Indian corn. These creatures abound
in the Western States, and are killed in great numbers for their skins.
The Indian hunters eat the flesh, and say it is very tender and good; but
it is not used for food in Canada. The racoon belongs to the same class of
animals as the bear, which it resembles in some points, though; being
small, it is not so dangerous either to man or the larger animals.
"And now, my dear, let me show you some pretty wild-flowers a little girl
brought me this morning for you, as she heard that you loved flowers.
There are yellow-mocassins, or ladies'-slippers, the same that I told you
of a little while ago; and white lilies, crane-bills, and these pretty
lilac geraniums; here are scarlet cups, and blue lupines--they are all in
bloom now--and many others. If we were on the Rice Lake Plains, my lady,
we could gather all these, and many, many more. In the months of June and
July those plains are like a garden, and their roses scent the air."
"Nurse, I will ask my dear papa to take me to the Rice Lake Plains," said
the little girl, as she gazed with delight on the lovely Canadian flowers.