THE LIFE OF A BEAVER COLONY 83 
builders of the dam are gone, and the wood pile 
near the house tells the sad story. It has scarcely 
been touched since with infinite labour the little 
colonists had collected it for their winter food; 
the winter they would never know, for the steel 
trap had come to those peaceful woods, and had 
accomplished its deadly work. Silently each night 
by the side of the dam had it closed its relentless 
jaws on the beaver that had come to repair the 
unexplained break in the well-built structure. 
Each night saw the colony dwindle in numbers, 
until of the nine, old and young, but one remained, 
too frightened to venture out by day or by night, 
for fear of meeting the fate of the other members 
of the family whose death she had several times 
witnessed. She had been powerless to assist. She 
had seen her father and mother, her brothers and 
sisters suddenly clutched by the foot and dragged 
under water. She had dived down to see what it 
meant, and had seen them struggling at the bottom, 
trying in vain to break free from the iron thing 
and the heavy chain which had slid down the 
inclined pole. A few frantic efforts and the end 
came. No more bubbles rose to the surface, all 
was quiet again and there was one less beaver in 
the world. Not understanding the constant repeti- 
tion of the tragedy, she was simply seized with 
fear, and she kept away from the place which 
seemed to be the cause of so much misery. Even 
when she saw, by the lowering of the water in the 
G2 
