arate 
1198 General Notes. [ November, 
was done precisely as Mr. Collins described, hugging a mass 
against chin and neck, and swimming with hind feet and tail 
And thus, forgetful of time, I watched with absorbing and often 
with almost breathless interest, the progress of the work, so that 
when darkness faded into daylight the dam was completed, the 
tired workers had retired, and I left for camp, repeating the reso- 
lution, ‘I have killed my last beaver, the very last.’” 
This is the point where the sportsman and naturalist rose from 
against it, is one thing; felling a tree so it should not vary a foot 
from a given line, the old dam, showed an engineerin 
may possess, but which I should hesitate to assume. W a 
define instinct as directing a few things without forethought or 
previous knowledge, and repeating the same methods ever ie 
ward. The bee builds the same cells, of the same nate 
ever. The first and the last nest of the bird are precisely 
and animals which dig holes in the earth have each a ene 
culiar to themselves, which does not vary; even the pee 
ness of the ground squirrel is no thought for the morrow, > 
he hoards in the spring with all the industry of autumn. 
But the beaver goes far beyond this. Instinct 15 © fines ate 
by reason until separation is impossible, and all arh . ion 
obliterated. He selects with engineering skill the site “hipe i | 
then builds of such material as is at hand and of such dicate; ; 
the exigences require, varying both as circumstances ds ‘ith 
and conducting all with a degree of intelligence that pane” ie 
upon the heels of humanity than that of any other ry w 
ing. Why an animal so gentle, so harmless, should by clumsy 
side the pale of civilized life, denied human association aa sb. 
form and unseemly personal habits, is one of the g step of 
nature not yet solved, but such is the fact. To him Horsf Pi 
civilization is simply and inevitably annihilation.—B. a] 
Forest and Stream. E a 
ME: pre 
lists’ Field ane 
the fact that the striped squirrel (Tamias sviaien a 
alive, will often lie limp and apparently lifeless, ti 
