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. 
