BEAVERS—THEIR WAYS. 67 
to fresh cuttings and other beaver sign showing that 
some of these animals were yet among the living. After 
rowing about a mile we came in sight of a fine, large 
and freshly plastered beaver house, (see illustration 
opposite page 67.) We passed on down the timber 
lined, canal like waterway, until the expanding lake 
burst upon us like the sun’s rays peering through a rent 
inthe moving clouds. Turning the prow of our boat 
to the east, we skirted the shore until a slight projection 
of land or promotory was reached, when the party less 
the photographer lined the shore. It was the scribe’s 
opportunity for a little reminiscence: 
‘‘Right there, 33 years ago,” I said—pointing to a 
clump of brush and young trees—‘‘a party of three of 
us made our first permanent camp to trap the wild 
game out of this lake. The changes I can see since 
that time by casual glance is the lessening of the tim- 
ber and disappearance of the wild fowl and the almost 
entire absence of land and water game sign.”’ 
After the photographer covered the shore party with 
his camera, all came aboard and the course of the boat 
retraced to a kind of a bay once familiarly known as 
Duck Paradise. Here it was we discerned threatening 
clouds on the western horizon—the approach of a storm 
—an admonition of which had been given us by our 
office barometer early in the morning, but cloudless sky 
then, we had treated its warning with ridicule and must 
now suffer for want of faith and lack of judgment. 
The sight was truly a grand one after the first spurt 
of wind struck the water, The foremost clouds rolled 
upward a black mass, while behind these came other 
clouds in variegated hue. A happy thought prompted 
