i 3 2 WATCHED BY WILD ANIMALS 



one afternoon changing a roll of films when the 

 old beaver rose on the pond and swam to a 

 half-submerged log about twenty feet away. 

 I stopped film changing and sat still to watch 

 him. He had not scented me. Splendid re- 

 flections he and the surroundings made in the 

 water; the snowy top of Mount Meeker, the 

 blue sky, white clouds, brown willows, - green, 

 pointed pines, red birches, and a single young 

 aspen with yellow leaves a brilliant auto- 

 chrome of autumn. 



The beaver rose from squatting and scratched 

 himself behind a fore leg, combed himself with 

 forepaws, then standing high on his hind feet 

 held forepaws close to his breast and looked 

 around. A fly alighted on his nose. He struck 

 at it. Again it alighted, and he brushed it 

 away with the other forepaw. Again he squat- 

 ted on the log but facing in the opposite di- 

 rection. A few minutes later he dived off 

 showing his wide, webbed, gooselike hind feet, 

 and striking the water a heavy, merry whack 

 with his broad black rubbery tail, sending the 

 ripples scurrying over the pond. 



The canal still remained empty, but with the 

 completion of the house it would be filled from 

 somewhere and used in bringing in the harvest. 



One day late in September I found the canal 

 and the little basin at the south the upper 



