126 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS 



this work, but save the sticks from which the bark has 

 all been gnawed for all our building. Another thing 

 we do, we curve our dams up stream. Do you know 

 why? If you were trying to push something, or some 

 one back, would you stand straight up, or would you 

 bend forward to meet the strain, and thus gain added 

 strength? You would bend, of course, and so we bend 

 our dams to push the waters back. We may be stupid 

 and clumsy and ranked with Rabbits and Rats; our eyes 

 and brains may be small, but you must see by this that 

 we are rather clever at thinking. 



" ' All summer we feed and work and play, making and 

 repairing dams and felling our wood by night, but some- 

 times stopping to be idle, and rolling and basking in the 

 sunlight. We are ever on the watch, however, even in 

 play time, our keen ears catching the faintest sound of 

 warning, and our alarm signal is far reaching. Our 

 sentry has but to dive, bringing his flat tail with a 

 quick, sharp blow upon the water, and the noise is 

 echoed far and wide. Spat ! spat ! spat ! go the tails 

 of all the Beavers in the region as they disappear. 

 Even when we lie sunning ourselves, we are on the 

 alert, for it is Beaver law that when at rest every pair 

 must lie facing each other so that, one looking each 

 way, nothing may steal up unawares, and if we are 

 suspicious even, we rise up on our haunches and listen 

 to catch every breath. 



"'In September the serious task of cutting winter 

 wood begins. We do not sleep the winter sleep, so 

 we need food in plenty and better shelter than our 

 bank burrows, for we live in places where ice and snow 

 have a long season. Once in the far back, perhaps, tho 



