T/ze Builders. 85 



round on its work of destruction. So they Iceep on 

 building, an interminable structure, till the frosts come, 

 and they must cut their wood and tumble their houses 

 together in a desperate hurry to be ready when the ice 

 closes over them. 



But on alder streams, where the current is sluggish 

 and the soil soft, one sometimes finds a wonderfully 

 ingenious device for remedying the above difficulty. 

 When the dam is built, and the water deep enough 

 for safety, the beavers dig a canal around one end of 

 the dam to carry off the surplus water. I know of 

 nothing in all the woods and fields that brings one 

 closer in thought and sympathy to the little wild folk 

 than to come across one of these canals, the water 

 pouring safely through it past the beaver's handiwork, 

 the dam stretching straight and solid across the stream, 

 and the domed houses rising beyond. 



Once I found where the beavers had utilized man's 

 work. A huge log dam had been built on a wilder- 

 ness stream to secure a head of water for drivino- logs 

 from the lumber woods. When the pines and four- 

 teen-inch spruce were all gone, the works were aban- 

 doned, and the dam left — with the gates open, of 

 course. A pair of young beavers, prospecting for a 

 winter home, found the place and were suited exactly. 

 They rolled a sunken log across the gates for a foun- 

 dation, filled them up with alder bushes and stones. 



