CHAPTER V 



TRAVELLING WITH A BEAVER 



ONE summer in Montana a trapper gave 

 me a kitten beaver. He was a cunning 

 little fellow in soft brown fur with an 

 innocent round face. He had a plump body and 

 a tiny flat tail. While I was talking with the 

 trapper the little beaver endeavoured to show his 

 accomplishments by methodically cutting down 

 a willow tree that was about the size of a lead 

 pencil. 



I was out with a pack horse, tracing the old 

 Lewis and Clark trail across the mountains, 

 and took him with me. My bedding and sup- 

 plies did not make large packs. With one of 

 these on each side of the pack saddle there re- 

 mained room enough in the depression on top 

 for the little beaver. He was bundled in my old 

 coat with his head sticking out of one sleeve. 

 He could not quite fall out of the sleeve and the 

 coat was secured beneath the ropes of the pack. 

 Although the pack horse plodded along monoto- 

 nously I never knew of his sleeping; but he 

 may have done so. Generally when the horse 



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