birds and a few beaver try that clever ruse ; so I 

 allowed it to go on, hoping to see another act. 

 Another followed. 



In it an old male beaver appeared. He swam 

 easily downstream until within a few yards of 

 me and then dived, apparently frightened. But 

 presently he reappeared near by and dived again. 

 While I was watching him, the youngsters edged 

 a few yards nearer the river. To stop them and 

 prolong the exhibition, I advanced close to them 

 as though to grab them. At this the mother 

 beaver struggled out of the water and set up a 

 tumbling and rolling so close to me that I thought 

 to catch her for examination. She dodged right 

 and left and reached the water. While this was 

 going on, the youngsters escaped into the river. 

 Mother beaver instantly recovered, and as she 

 dived gave the water a scornful whack with her 

 tail. 



The beaver is not often heard. He works in 

 silence. When he pauses from his work, he sits 

 meditatively, like a philosopher. At times, how- 

 ever, when, in traveling, beaver are separated from 

 one another, they give a strange shrill whistle or 

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