THE TAKING OP THE BEAVER 111 



delves for gophers ; but their land enemies cannot pur 

 sue them into water; so the panic-stricken family 

 the old parents, wise from many such alarms ; the young 

 three-year-olds, who were to go out and rear families 

 for themselves in the spring; the two-year-old cubbies, 

 big enough to be saucy, young enough to be silly; and 

 the baby kittens, just able to forage for themselves 

 and know the soft alder rind from the tough old bark 

 unpalatable as mud pop pell-mell from the high plat 

 form of their houses into the water. The water is still 

 falling. They will presently be high and dry. No use 

 trying to escape up-stream. They see that in the first 

 minute s wild scurry through the shallows. Besides, 

 what s this across the creek? Stakes, not put there 

 by any beaver ; for there is no bark on. If they only had 

 time now they might cut a passage through; but no 

 this wretched enemy, whatever it is, has ditched the 

 ice across. 



They sniff and listen. A terrible sound comes from 

 above a low, exultant, devilish winning. The man 

 has left his dog on guard above the dam. At that the 

 little beavers always trembling, timid fellows tum 

 ble over each other in a panic of fear to escape by way 

 of the flowing water below the dam. But there a new 

 terror assails them. A shadow is above the ice, a 

 wraith of destruction the figure of a man standing 

 at the dam with his axe and club waiting. 



Where to go now? They can t find their bank 

 shelters, for the man has staked them up. The little 

 fellows lose their presence of mind and their heads 

 and their courage, and with a blind scramble dash up 

 the remaining open runway. It is a cul-de-sac. But 

 what does that matter? They run almost to the end. 



