THIRD WEEK] September 243 



ground freezes their tunnels into tubes of iron, the ice 

 seals the surface, past all gnawing out; and yet, amid the 

 quietly flowing water, where snow and wind never pene- 

 trate, these warm-blooded, air-breathing muskrats live the 

 winter through, with only the trout and eels for company. 

 Their food is the bark and pith of certain plants; their air 

 is what leaks through the house of sticks, or what may 

 collect at the melting-place of ice and shore. 



Stretched full length on the smooth ice, let us look 

 through into that strange nether world, where the stress 

 of storm is unknown. Far beneath us sinuous black forms 

 undulate through the water, from tunnel to house and 

 back again. As we gaze down through the crystalline 

 mass, occasional fractures play pranks with the objects 

 below. The animate shapes seem to take unto themselves 

 greater bulk; their tails broaden, their bodies become many 

 times longer. For a moment the illusion is perfect; thou- 

 sands of centuries have slipped back, and we are looking 

 at the giant beavers of old. 



Let us give thanks that even the humble muskrat still 

 holds his own. A century or two hence and posterity 

 mav look with wonder at his stuffed skin in a museum ! 



