for tearing flesh and his hand-like forefeet 
have only the weakest of claws. 
O-Go loved to use that door. It was fine 
to feel the water close about him, as he swam 
swiftly through the lower reaches of the tun¬ 
nel, fine to be borne quickly to the surface, 
when he slowed the action of his strong hind 
legs; and finest of all to lie contentedly at 
the top, with only his face above water. O-Go 
would remain still for many minutes, breath¬ 
ing the soft spring air, and listening to the 
gentle breeze that barely ruffled the surface 
of the pond. It was a pleasant world for little 
beavers. 
O-Go’s world was one of many beauties 
also. In its farthest distance were the great 
peaks of the Rockies, where the snow lingered 
on into the summer, gleaming white under 
the sunshine, rich with blue in the shadows. 
Then there were the intervening forests, with 
mile after mile of virgin timber, stately pines, 
hemlocks and spruces on the uplands, but 
birches, aspens and poplars lower down near 
the water, ready for the use of the beavers. 
The pond itself, formed partly by nature, 
partly by the dam which O-Go’s ancestors had 
built, was beautiful also, its waters green in 
the shallows, blue-black in those deeper places 
where the trout and the grayling loved to 
lurk. Then, too, there were the pond lilies, 
24 
