THE BEAVERS OF BEAVER CREEK 



to tell his parents of his discovery and to ask 

 his father if the now doubly attractive creek 

 could not bear the name of the welcome new- 

 comers. 



It was a busy time for the beavers. They 

 had their dam and lodge to build and food to 

 gather for the long winter months when they 

 would be locked in a home surrounded by ice 

 and snow. Their busy little minds were not 

 disturbed in their delightful new home by the 

 presence of prowling fur-hunters with their cruel 

 traps. So they were happy and worked the 

 greater part of each night as only beavers can 

 work. 



Full Moon had now but one great ambition; 

 the hope of seeing and knowing the ways of the 

 wise little animals around whom so many beauti- 

 ful legends are entwined. How often he had 

 searched the streams and wished that the Great 

 Spirit would send the highly prized beaver with 

 his fat tail covered with lustrous, black, horny 

 scales; the reddish-brown fur that made such 

 warm caps and coats ; the juicy flesh roasted in 

 the skin after the hair had been removed by 

 singeing. How often his mouth had watered 

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