WILD LIFE ACROSS THE WORLD 



fellow can't do," is not regarded very highly outside 

 the British Isles. And yet it remains an article of 

 faith with me. Therefore my personal attitude 

 towards the poacher of beavers is a simple one. I 

 detest him and all his ways. They are not like those 

 of a savage who attacks a lion in the open, but like 

 those of a mean, skulking coward. He breaks down 

 the poor beaver's dam and sets his abominable trap in 

 the gap, so that when the little fellow comes along to 

 repair the damage he is caught, pulled under the 

 water, and drowned. 



Could anything be more hateful and despicable ? 

 It is the low cunning of man pitted against the patient 

 industry of an animal anxious to preserve its home 

 and all that it loves. 



If you approach a beavers' dam ever so cautiously 

 you will find, as I have done, that he is essentially 

 a wary and suspicious little chap. The moment 

 he is alarmed he warns the whole colony. You 

 hear a noise which suggests that a man has fallen 

 from a height, flat on his back, into the water. Really 

 it is the beaver who has spotted you, and is beating 

 the water with his tail. Once he has done this your 

 chances of getting a view of him or of his fellow- 

 villagers that evening are not worth considering. They 

 may see you, but most assuredly you will not see them. 



I have taken photographs of beavers' dams some 

 nine thousand feet above sea-level. The statement 



284 



