POLLY AND ELEANOR VISIT THE BEAVERS
After breakfast the four girls asked each other what there was to do. They had had so much excitement all week, that the simple life palled on them.
"It's exactly like drinking milk after you have been kept on spice-beer for a long time," laughed Eleanor.
"Well, Nolla and I have an invitation to spend the day with friends of mine. We can ride over there any time," said Polly.
"Then for goodness' sake, come on! I'll be asleep again if we don't do something," exclaimed Eleanor.
"All right, I'll saddle Noddy and you can have Choko. We will have to harness them ourselves now that Jeb is away, and the other hands are working on the ranch."
"You're not going far, are you?" asked Anne, suspiciously.
Polly laughed. "Not as far as we went yesterday."
Mrs. Brewster had been told where Polly planned to take Eleanor, and she smiled approvingly. A nice luncheon was packed up and placed in the panniers of the burros, and the three grownups stood and watched the two girls ride down the trail to Rainbow Cliff.
As they went, Eleanor said: "Did you mention the name of your friends? I forgot, if you have."
Polly laughed. "Maybe I told you, but I don't remember now. Anyway, you wouldn't know them if I did tell you their names."
"But what do you call them when you address them?"
"I always call the old one 'Grandfather,' but he has a large family that I never bother with. He is our friend.
"This family lives and does queer things that no city folks ever dream of," added Polly.
"Something like that Halsey woman, eh?" laughed Eleanor, who had heard from Sary about the disobedient children.
"The Beavers are too polite to force their company on us. And as we may not care to eat as they do, I decided to bring lunch, which we can enjoy by ourselves," explained Polly.
Noddy and Choko now reached the trail leading up the pine-tipped crest of the mountain back of Pebbly Pit, and were soon climbing through a veritable wilderness of sage-brush and aspens.
"My, what a place to live in!" said Eleanor, surprised.
"It's not far, now," returned Polly.
Shortly after this, Polly turned Noddy from the old trail and plunged into a thicket of aspens.
"Good gracious! How can they ever find their own home?" wondered Eleanor, gazing at the closely growing aspen trees.
"They know everything! And Noddy knows the way by this time, too, as I like to come here and spend the day. Besides there are blazes on the large trees to guide one."
Noddy came out of the aspen grove after a time and then followed a mountain-stream up-trail for half a mile or so, before turning to look at her rider.
"Oh, you wise little Noddy. How did you know I wanted to stop here?" laughed Polly, patting the burro affectionately.
Noddy flicked back her long ears in approval of such words and petting, but Eleanor's cry made the burro listen intently.
"Polly! What a dreadful place to live in! Surely no one exists in this lonesome wilderness, do they?"
"Mr. Beaver is clearing away the aspens just as fast as he can, but as soon as they are all cut down, he will move the whole family to some other dense grove, as they live on aspens, you know."
"What—what! I didn't understand you!" cried Eleanor.
Polly laughed as she pointed to a pond made by a dam crudely built across the stream. It was rough and queer looking, but it answered its purpose very well.
Eleanor saw half a dozen conical shaped huts built of mud in a row across the dam, then she stared at both sides of the stream, up and down, but no other habitation could she see. On the opposite bank several large trees had been felled and a quantity of aspens had been cut down and piled in confusion on the edge of the water.
"Do your ranchers live near here?" asked she.
"I didn't say they were ranchers, Nolla."
"Well, woodcutters, or what you call them!"
"Yes," laughed Polly, "they are woodcutters and live in those mud huts."
"What?" cried Eleanor again.
"S-sh! Not so loud or you will frighten them away!"
"Polly—impossible! What do you mean anyway?"
"The beavers live there until the family grows too large, then they either build another story to the house, or start a new colony where aspens can be had in plenty. As there are so many young aspens here in perfect security, for the beavers, Grandfather Beaver remains here."
"Oh, Polly! You mean they are real beavers!" gasped Eleanor.
"Yes, and I knew you would love to see them at work, but we have to keep very quiet if we want them to come out."
"Tell me about them—quick—before we have to go away," begged Eleanor, eagerly.
"We won't have to go, but we have to keep quiet. You see they must have been cutting aspens over there, when they heard us coming and so they made a dive for safety. They are now hiding in the huts."
"What can we do to coax them out again?"
"We'll lead the burros to the park to graze, and we'll come back and sit quietly on this rock to watch for them."
So the two burros were taken to a small nearby clearing where buffalo grass offered a juicy repast for them. Having hobbled them to keep them from straying, Polly led the way back to the beaver-dam.
"If you were over there to examine those cut aspens you would find each one about eighteen inches long and about one and a half inches thick. The beavers always build near an aspen grove, as it is their food, but not finding a grove near the water, they have to swim up or down until they reach what they need. That is why you find their huts on water," explained Polly.
"But I've heard they are water animals."
Before Polly could reply, a sleek head bobbed up from the water near one of the huts and Eleanor gasped with surprise. The beaver swam to the opposite bank where the trees had been cut down. He climbed quickly out of the stream and started to roll a heavy log over the ground until it splashed down into the pond. He then jumped after it and continued rolling and pushing it along till he reached the dam. Instantly, more beavers came out from the huts and assisted in towing the log to their dam of aspens.
"Oh, oh, Polly!" whispered Eleanor in excited astonishment, but Polly held her finger over her lips in warning.
"I do believe they plan to build a new dam further up-stream, Nolla. If that is so, we will have something worth while to watch for during the next few days. Just now they are repairing the old houses for the Winter, and that log is to be a bulwark about which green cuttings of willow and young aspens can be woven as a partial strainer for the water. The débris that thus collects in the chinks between the cuttings, makes the dam firmer and yet more flexible than a solid structure would."
Just then, the sound of a falling tree made Eleanor jump and look across the stream.
"Other industrious beavers cutting down another tree," explained Polly.
"How do they ever do it, Poll?"
"If you watch, you will see that beaver go to work."
Not one beaver appeared, but four that hurried to the bank and moved the newly cut tree into the water. One of the four dragged the tree with its branches still on, into the mid-stream where, catching a heavy branch between his teeth, he steered it to the row of huts.
Directly back of the first one, swam the other three, each dragging a section of tree to deposit on the dam, where an old beaver was hard at work. As soon as the first beaver reached the huts, the old fellow gave a peculiar call that brought out a score or more of workers. They all went to their tasks as if drilled by a master.
"My old Grandfather is not there this morning, or that other boss would not be taking his place," whispered Polly.
Eleanor had been using her eyes to good advantage and now called to Polly anxiously. "Look a'there, Polly! Those beavers are eating the tree!"
"They're not eating it but are cutting it down. Now you watch and you will see how they do it."
The tree in question, stood on the shore and was about six inches in diameter and about sixteen feet in height. The boss of another group of beavers tested the tree by placing his fore-paws against the trunk and spreading out his hind legs as a bracer. He sat upon his tail and took a deliberate bite from the bark. No wonder Eleanor thought he was eating the tree!
After gnawing at one side, he thumped the ground with his extended tail and ran away. Other beavers took his place and began cutting in much the same manner. Then the boss beaver, who was superintending the work, pushed the workers away and showed them how to work in a better way. This done, the boss thumped the ground with his tail—just as a policeman strikes the walk with his night-club—and the cutters went back to work.
Suddenly the boss thumped the ground repeatedly and the cutters ran to a safe distance. A moment later, the tree began swaying and crashed down into the pond. It had been so cut and planned that labor and time would be saved by throwing it directly into the stream.
It was towed down into the general harvest-pile and left for other colonists to saw into required shape and length for the additions to their huts.
Soon after this, a number of beavers came forth and swam to the extreme upper end of the pond. Here they climbed up on the bank and disappeared from sight in the aspen-covered forest.
"Where are they going?" asked Eleanor, anxiously.
"We'll soon find out!" declared Polly.
As Polly spoke, a beaver swam along the bank and scrambled out quite near the spot where the two girls sat quietly watching. He sniffed and then plunged back to hurry to the huts where he must have reported the result of his trip. Immediately after, the boss commanded him to lead the way, and both returned to the place for a thorough investigation.
The scout brought his boss up the bank and sniffed. Polly and Eleanor were quivering with excitement, as they saw the beavers making for the trail.
"Let's see what is wrong?" whispered Polly, cocking her rifle in case of emergency.
"Oh, don't do that!" cried Eleanor, catching hold of Polly's arm.
"Stop! Let go—that is how accidents happen. You drag on one's arm and the trigger, all ready to fire, is pulled accidentally. I know what I am about, so you need have no concern."
Eleanor felt chagrined and meekly followed Polly after this. They crept through the woods without making a sound.
The two beavers reached the clearing where Noddy and Choko were grazing, and the moment the boss saw the burros, he turned and snapped at the foolish scout that had brought him this journey for naught! But the subdued laughter from the girls made the beavers rush pell-mell into the pond to wonder whether burros could laugh like that!
On the way back to their rock of observation, Polly said, "Beavers are slow and awkward on land so that the agile panther, the alert wildcat, or wolves and bears, form a constant menace to them. Because of their unwieldy and short legs, they cannot escape quickly, but in water they are wonderful swimmers, so, water being necessary to their safety, they build their huts on the dams that will not bear up other wild animals. If their dams were constructed solidly, the beavers would soon be extinct, as forest savages would crawl over and glut on the helpless prey."
"Didn't you say we could follow those other ones that went up-stream?" asked Eleanor.
"Yes, come on," replied Polly, leading the way for some distance before seeing a sign of a beaver again. Then suddenly, she clutched hold of Eleanor's arm.
"Ah, there's Grandfather, hard at work!"
"Where—which?" cried Eleanor, eagerly.
"The one with a limp and a twisted back!"
The girls had reached a place where the stream widened and here they found a great number of beavers at work. Some cutting, some dragging, others swimming with aspens, willows and alders, and all ordered about by an old crippled beaver.
But despite his twisted back and decided halt in gait, he moved about quicker than the others, showing them where to place, how to saw, when to cut the aspens, and other important details of construction.
"There are a lot of pines, Polly—why doesn't he use them?"
"A beaver doesn't like the smelly, pitchy wood, so they never cut them unless they have to clear a roadway from an aspen grove to the stream of water."
"Then they ought to use all those trees already down. There are lots that have been felled by forest fires, I guess."
"There again they show their wisdom," explained Polly. "A beaver never cuts dead wood as it dulls and injures his teeth. And dead wood does not last like live trees, either."
At this moment, Grandfather Beaver seemed to sniff a familiar as well as a doubtful presence. He lifted his nose high and thumped his tail for an assistant. Leaving commands with this beaver, the Grandfather went into the stream and swam away.
Eleanor was sorry to lose sight of him, but almost before she could speak, the old fellow rose laboriously from the water just in front of her. He waited, sniffing anxiously, but found a stranger with his friend, so he half-slid back into the stream.
Polly made strange sounds and ran down towards him. To Eleanor's amazement the old fellow actually expressed joy at seeing a friend. He emitted peculiar sounds and Polly stood a few feet away uttering queer sounds, too. Then he sent her a look of love—if there ever was one—and after this welcome he slid back into the water to continue the work as overseer.
"Polly Brewster—I never in all my life!" gasped Eleanor.
Polly laughed as she watched her beaver join the workers and scold them for laziness while he was absent visiting a friend.
"Let's get the burros, now, and I'll show you a place where we can lunch while I tell you how Grandfather and I got to know each other so well," suggested Polly.
As the girls rode along the up-trail, Polly told the story.
[A]"A few years ago, while out adventuring, I found this colony of beavers. I wanted father to come with me and see them, but he was too busy that year.
[A] A true story.
"The following Summer, however, he came and we sat on the same rock where you and I sat to-day.
"We had to wait for ten minutes or more, before a beaver came out of his hut in the dam. It was not as large or strong a dam, then, as now. The beaver was anxious to reach a spot in the aspen grove where we could hear the other beavers at work.
"To reach the grove, he had to come up out of the stream and cross some land to the other pond. Just as he climbed up from the water, he sniffed danger. He was directly opposite us and we could see everything very plainly.
"Father lifted his rifle slowly and very carefully, and I looked intently to see what it was that he saw.
"On a bough of a tree almost directly over the beaver, I saw a lithe serpentine thing twitching as if a snake was trying to curl up. But I knew it wasn't a snake. It must be the long tail of a panther who was crouching for a leap, but I could not distinguish a body back of the foliage of the tree.
"The beaver stood uncertain of action for a moment, and as he turned to dive again to safety, the mountain-lion sprang. At the same instant, father pulled the trigger. But the panther landed almost on top of the beaver's back, while the shot must have grazed his head, making him rage furiously.
"The beaver, who was on the verge of the stream, fought valiantly with teeth and his powerful strength, but the lion had the upper hold on him. Slowly the two squirmed and rolled, the beaver trying to drag his enemy into the stream, and the panther fighting to keep his prey on land.
"'Father—shoot—shoot! Even if you kill the beaver!' I yelled, as I closed my eyes from the awful sight.
"But daddy already had taken aim and even as I spoke, he pulled the trigger. This time his shot took effect for we saw the beast loose his hold on the beaver and roll over writhing in agony.
"Father rushed along the bank and crept over the beaver-dam to the other side. Then he put the lion out of pain with a third shot, and stooped to examine the beaver.
"We always take a doctor's pocket-case when going on a trip, and father now took it out, so I knew the beaver was not dead.
"'Poll, try to come over here and bring a pan, sheath-knife, and some hartshorn from the pack.'
"I did as I was told, and stood helping father when the beaver came too—after getting a big whiff of hartshorn. We washed the torn flesh with water, and father poured on something from a bottle that made the old fellow squirm, but he sensed that we were helping him and he offered no resistance.
"Well, Nolla, when we were done with our surgical work, you just ought to have seen that beaver's gratitude shining from his round eyes.
"When he had recovered sufficiently to start for home, father swam beside him. And it was well he did for the poor fellow could not have made it alone. Father towed him across the pond and left him on the dam. There, the boss (for he was the boss of the colony) made a strange sound and instantly, a score of beavers came out.
"Meantime, father had left him alone while I stood a distance away and watched the scene eagerly. As many beavers as could get near him, managed to roll and push him up on the dam where he lay stretched out.
"Father did not think the poor thing would recover, but I thought he would, so we went back the next day, but he had disappeared.
"We wished we could find out in some way, whether our friend was recovering or whether he had died and was buried by his family. So father decided to creep out on the dam and investigate. I went, too, and no sooner had we tried to make the same queer sound the Grandfather had made that day, than a beaver poked his nose out of a hut and sniffed. Quickly he disappeared again, but in a few moments, he came out and stood quite close to us making queer sounds at us. He was not afraid, so we took it that he was reporting on the health of our friend.
"We did not see Grandfather again that Summer, so early last Spring I went to visit my colony, and there was my friend, bossing things as usual. But his back was crooked and he had to walk with a lame twist, so I suppose that lion injured his backbone.
"I made a queer sound and he listened. He recognized me and swam over to thump his tail on the ground in front of my rock. I was so delighted that I rushed home and brought father over. Then you should have seen that beaver! He squirmed, and barked, and thumped his tail. It was like the meeting of a long-lost friend. Father was so impressed by the incident that he went to Denver and secured permission from the Government Land Survey Office to establish a permanent reserve here for the beavers. Now they have law protection and may rest unmolested by hunters or trappers."
"Oh, Polly! It's just like a fairy tale, but much more interesting. What became of the nasty panther?" cried Eleanor.
"He's stretched on our living-room floor—that skin by the fire-place. We had an awful time lugging the beast home, but I was determined to walk on his head every chance I got, so we swung him on a pole and managed to induce the horses to be reasonable about the dead creature."
By the time Polly had concluded her story, the burros reached the bluff where the girls camped and prepared luncheon. This day of closer intimacy for the two girls, sealed a life-long friendship between them. Neither girl had ever had a chum of her own age, and now they found so much to admire and respect in each other that their companionship continued without the usual envy, quarrels or jealousies so common in school life between school-mates.
THE PANTHER WAS ABOUT TO LEAP UPON THE BEAVER.
Polly and Eleanor. Page [94].