36 NATURE-STUDY REVIEW 



In fact, though it serves a different end in the two creatures, 

 the sense of smell is no less imperious in the mink than in the deer, 

 and leads to just as unreasonable action. Not long ago a camper 

 on a tiny island was cleaning fish with a jack knife, when up 

 popped a mink at his elbow; he threw it a grey trout's head and 

 it made off with its booty; in a few minutes, like Oliver Twist, 

 it was back for more; and when he quite properly refused to 

 pander to the glutton, it actually caught hold of the fish he had 

 in his hand, and he was forced to tap this slim gentleman of the 

 road two or three times quite smartly over the nose with the 

 flat of the knife blade before he could persuade it to leave go. 



In our third season of camping we began to keep a sort of 

 Visitors' Book of the most striking personages that called at our 

 camp. Almost the first entry was a flock of American Mergansers; 

 these birds are often to be seen about Cache Lake, usually hugging 

 the shore and coasting along by point and bay; they seldom 

 take to the wing, but escape by a sort of "scuttering" flight along 

 the surface, wings and feet in full play like the hoppers of a water 

 wheel. They often band together, two or three broods of them, into 

 a flock of 30 or 40. One day as we were sitting at our camp table, 

 a few yards in from shore and partly screened by a fringe of 

 balsams a regular "raft" of over 30 of these birds, frightened by a 

 passing canoe, came splashing across our bay and settled down 

 behind the big floating log. Back of this barrier they formed into 

 a long line of clucking protest. When the coast was clear, they 

 clambered (still in line) onto the log, heads all turned outwards in 

 the direction of the moving canoe; they looked for all the world 

 like an awkward squad of raw recruits dressing by the left; the 

 log was partly under water and very slippery, so that every now 

 and then one would fall backwards or forwards out of line to 

 flounder in the water. Evidently there was no danger from the 

 landward quarter; they never so much as glanced in our direction. 



Three seasons ago a baby beaver, apparently deserted, was 

 brought into our camp, and for a fortnight we tried to rear it. 

 It had obviously never been weaned, and several days went by 

 before we could get it to eat at all. Unfortunately it had been 

 badly injured and did not long survive. But it was an affection- 

 ate pet with quaint little ways of its own, and the daintiest slip 

 of a paddle tail that it trailed along behind it. It was scrupu- 



