162 A LITTLE BEAVER 



practice, but they carry it on in fall and winter, 

 especially in the latter season, when the ice facili- 

 tates travel over the marsh. 



At these seasons men go quietly among the 

 muskrat-houses, armed with one-tined spears, 

 which they drive with such accuracy that they 

 rarely fail to strike the inner chamber and almost 

 always impale one victim, and oftener two. 



The direst calamity that can befall the muskrat 

 occurs when, at a low stage of water, extremely 

 cold weather freezes the marsh to the bottom and 

 cuts the animals off from the supply of aquatic 

 roots. Whole families starve in the houses; a few 

 dig their way to the outer world and wander far 

 and wide over the snowy waste in quest of food, per- 

 haps to find some meager fare, but more probably 

 to perish by starvation or violence. In their eager 

 quest for water, they sometimes gnaw through 

 lead pipes, and so work a deal of mischief. 



But there are always some who survive all the 

 dangers that beset them, and see the beauty of 

 spring again unfold upon the earth. Then the sun- 

 lit, open water invites them to freedom and boun- 

 teous fare, and their untenanted houses go adrift, 

 in wrack and ruin, on the wide overflow of the 

 spring flood. The scattered remnant of survivors 

 coast along the low shores in quest of mates, whin- 

 ing a plaintive call as they ply their noiseless pad- 

 dles. A traveler tells of hearing a cry which he mis- 



