against the dam. Through the gap thus formed, 
the water had poured, tearing away the earth 
as it passed; and when the flood had subsided, 
the surface of Patou Pond had been lowered 
nearly two feet. 
The area of the pond had been reduced 
nearly one half by the disaster. The canals were 
almost empty of water, and the woods, which 
had formerly reached the shore, were now hun¬ 
dreds of feet back from it. Acres of mud flats 
stretched where there had once been shallow 
water; and the muskrats, who dwelt at the 
west end of the pond, found their houses en¬ 
tirely exposed. Their misfortune was proba¬ 
bly a benefit to the beavers; since the coyotes 
found them a comparatively easy prey, and 
therefore did not seek to molest the beavers. 
Nevertheless, the peril to the beavers was 
grave. They could no longer travel in con¬ 
cealment through the canal that led into their 
slashing; nor could they work in the woods, 
secure in the knowledge that the sheltering 
water was but a step or two away. At any 
moment, some enemy might pounce upon one 
of them from the underbrush, and the clumsy 
beaver would fall an easy victim. 
The warm weather would soon be over, 
and the sap would then descend into the roots 
of the trees, making the bark of their branches 
almost worthless to the colony. Before that 
141 
