Shaggycoat: The Biography of a Beaver

by Clarence Hawkes

The dam was severely tried during these spring freshets. The ice pounded and ground away at it, and the water set back, until the pond was twice the size it had been in the autumn. The beavers were nearly drowned out of their lodge during this high water, but finally a portion of the dam gave way and the water fell. Then the ice went churning and scraping through the break. Driftwood and brush and all sorts of debris came down with the flood, and the water was full of silt and gravel. The pond was not the crystal lake it had been.

It gradually settled, and things looked as they had in the autumn; the trees were leafless, and the landscape cheerless. The pond also froze over along the edges at night and thawed by day.

Away down in the heart of the earth, the secret forces of nature were stirring. The maple had already felt the touch of life, and its sap coursed gleefully in its veins. The awakening had not come yet, but it was coming. The flowers and the buds had been sleeping, the nuts and the seeds had been waiting patiently, but their time of waiting was nearly over.

Already daffodil and arbutus stirred uneasily in their slumber. Their dreams were light, like the sleep of early morning. Into their dreams would steal a sense of soft winds and warm sunshine.

Then, one day, the sense of this life about them became so certain, and their dreams were so real, that they awoke, and spring had really come. Up they sprang like children who had overslept and opened their hearts to the joy of living in the warmth of the new spring.

Now the pond was no longer frozen over along the bank, but the shores were very muddy with the coming out of the frost. Soon birds began to sing in the bushes along the pond, and a sense of restlessness came over Shaggycoat, for everything seemed to be moving. The birds were all going somewhere, and why not he?

He first cut a good supply of fresh poplar logs at the upper end of the pond and floated them down near the lodge. This took him several days, during which time the spring had been advancing, so, when this task was finished, the frogs were singing in his pond. This was a sure sign of spring and one that should not go unheeded.

The water was pouring through several large breaks in his dam, but what cared he? There was still water enough in the pond to keep the entrances to the lodge under water, but even if it did not, the house could be abandoned, and his family could live in one of the burrows along the bank for a while.

There were Brighteyes and the four frolicsome young beavers to keep him, but the rush of distant waters was in his ears, and he felt just like swimming miles and miles away. Distant waterfalls and rapids were calling to him; deep pools in the river, and wonderful mountain lakes were all waiting for him.

So, one day, when the air was soft and sweet, and the water was getting warm, he slipped away, and Brighteyes knew that she should not see him again until early in September. He was gone to the world of water-wonders, far beyond their limited horizon. She would stay and take care of the babies until his return.