of 



about for some minutes and then joined their 

 comrades on land, where all rested for a time. 



Meanwhile the aged beaver had lifted a small 

 aspen limb out of the water and was squatted 

 on the log, leisurely eating bark. Before many 

 minutes elapsed the other beaver became rest- 

 less and finally started up the slope in a runway. 

 They traveled slowly in single file and one by one 

 vanished amid the tall sedge. The old beaver 

 slipped noiselessly into the water, and a series of 

 low waves pointed toward the house. It was 

 dark as I stole away in silence for the night, and 

 Mars was gently throbbing in the black water. 



This was an old beaver settlement, and the 

 numerous harvests gathered by its inhabitants 

 had long since exhausted the near-by growths 

 of aspen, the bark of which is the favorite food 

 of North American beaver, though the bark of 

 willow, cottonwood, alder, and birch is also 

 eaten. An . examination of the aspen supply, 

 together with the lines of transportation, the 

 runways, canals, and ponds, indicated that 

 this year's harvest would have to be brought a 

 long distance. The place it would come from was 



52 



