was a dreary, starving outlook for my furred 

 friends. 



I left the scene to explore the entire burned 

 area. After wandering for hours amid ashes and 

 charcoal, seeing here and there the seared car- 

 cass of a deer or some other wild animal, I came 

 upon a beaver colony that had escaped the fire. 

 It was in the midst of several acres of swampy 

 ground that was covered with fire-resisting wil- 

 lows and aspens. The surrounding pine forest 

 was not dense, and the heat it produced in burn- 

 ing did no damage to the scattered beaver houses. 



From the top of a granite crag I surveyed the 

 green scene of life and the surrounding sweep of 

 desolation. Here and there a sodden log smould- 

 ered in the ashen distance and supported a tower 

 of smoke in the still air. A few miles to the east, 

 among the scattered trees of a rocky summit, 

 the fire was burning itself out; to the west the 

 sun was sinking behind crags and snow; near 

 by, on a blackened limb, a south-bound robin 

 chattered volubly but hopelessly. 



While I was listening, thinking, and watching, 

 a mountain lion appeared and leaped lightly upon 



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