88 ROMANCE OF THE BEAVER 



glided among the moss-covered stone, purring as it 

 went, and far away the hollow who-who-who-whoo 

 of the owl. Once they got the tell-tale scent of a 

 silent-footed lynx, so they hid in the water for over 

 an hour, till the air was cleared of the invisible 

 warning. 



Very early in the morning, when the sky was 

 changing from the mysterious colour of night to the 

 rosy hue which precedes the coming day, the beaver 

 came to a little valley through which the stream 

 flowed in a leisurely way. A tangle of alders 

 marked a bog on one side and indicated the 

 presence of a spring. On either side of the valley 

 the sloping hills were well wooded with birches, 

 poplars and maples, interspersed with spruces and 

 pines. A little further along the stream divided 

 into two branches, each finding its way from a 

 different valley. The place attracted the beaver, 

 but it was too near day for them to risk a careful 

 and thorough investigation, so after making a hasty 

 breakfast of roots and bark they sought the 

 seclusion of an over-hanging bank where they could 

 sleep comfortably and yet be near enough to the 

 water to escape immediately if danger threatened. 



The day passed slowly and no sooner had the 

 setting sun thrown the shadows of the tree-covered 

 hill across the grassy valley, than the beavers came 

 out to examine the surroundings, and see whether 

 conditions were favourable for making a home. 

 Apparently, everything was to their satisfaction. 



