AT THE PAINTED WOODS. 144 
- Beyond Turtle Creek the rough, uneven and high biuffs 
were seen that mark the output of a little rivulet where 
the Crows and Gros Ventres parted. Here, the red 
man’s legends say, a dispute over so simple a thing as 
the division of a buffalo’s paunch, disunited two friendly 
people forever. 
___ A few hundred yards along an old Indian and buffalo 
trail, though deep coulees and over sharp pointed hills, 
a small, timber lined lake, burst suddenly to view. 
In signing up, I found the tracks of but one beaver, 
and by sign a large one, so set the trap with scented 
‘ bait. The next morning I found a beaver struggling in 
the trap and around it, torn earth and cut brush show- 
ing a desperate all nights struggle to free itself. Even 
when being pounded to its death—though meekly 
submitting, the poor animal clung tenaciously to life, as 
_ though assisted in its struggles by a might greater than 
_ the strength usually allotted to its kind. 
After the beaver was dead, her desperation was ac- 
counted for. She was the mother of four young suck- 
»- ing beavers and her life was their life. Her death 
their death. These babes of the beaver kind must now 
of necessity through lack of a good mother’s care, 
perish by slow starvation. 
I returned to my Painted Woods residence in a re- 
flective mood. I had a surfeit of such cruel work—and 
- would stay it. Ifthe destruction of beavers and kindred 
; intelligent, industrious and harmless animals must go 
 on—let it be done by other hands than mine. 
| Hunted in season and out of season as were the deer 
’ of the Painted Woods country both by the white and red 
