THE MUSKRATS ARE BUILDING 63 



Now the November rains have filled river and 

 ditch, flooded the tunnels, and crept up into the 

 beds under the tussocks. Even a mushrat will creep 

 out of his bed when cold, wet water creeps in. 

 What shall he do for shelter? He knows. And long 

 before the rains begin, he picks out the place for a 

 house. He does not want to leave his meadow, there- 

 fore the only thing to do is to build, — move from 

 under the tussock out upon the top of the tussock; 

 and here, in its deep, wiry grass, make a new bed high 

 and dry above the rising water ; and close this new 

 bed in with walls that circle and dome, and defy the 

 very winter. 



Such a house will require a great deal of work 

 to build. Why should not two or three muskrats 

 combine — make the house big enough to hold 

 them all, save labor and warmth, too, and, withal, 

 live sociably together? So they left, each one his 

 single bed, and, joining efforts, started, about the 

 middle of October, to build this winter house. 



Slowly, night after night, the domed walls have 

 been rising, although for several nights at a time I 

 could see no apparent progress with the work. The 

 builders were in no hurry. The cold was far off. But 

 it is coming, and to-night it feels near and keen. 

 And to-night there is no loafing about the lodge. 



When this house is done, when the last hod of 

 mud plaster has been laid on, — then the rains may 

 descend and the floods come, but it will not fall. It 



