Mr. George J. Romanes has the following opinion of the beaver: “Most remarkable among rodents for instinct and intelligence, unquestionably stands the beaver. Indeed there is no animal—not even excepting the ants and bees—where instinct has risen to a higher level of far-reaching adaptation to certain constant conditions of environment, or where faculties, undoubtedly instinctive, are more puzzlingly wrought up with faculties no less undoubtedly intelligent.... It is truly an astonishing fact that animals should engage in such vast architectural labors with what appears to be the deliberate purpose of securing, by such artificial means, the special benefits that arise from their high engineering skill. So astonishing, indeed, does this fact appear, that as sober minded interpreters of fact we would fain look for some explanation which would not necessitate the inference that these actions are due to any intelligent appreciation, either of the benefits that arise from labor, or of the hydrostatic principles to which this labor so clearly refers.”
Mr. Alexander Majors, originator of the Pony Express, who lived a long, alert life in the wilds, pays the beaver the following peculiar tribute in his “Seventy Years on the Frontier”: “The beaver, considered as an engineer, is a remarkable animal. He can run a tunnel as direct as the best engineer could do with his instruments to guide him. I have seen where they have built a dam across a stream, and not having sufficient head water to keep their pond full, they would cross to a stream higher up the side of the mountain, and cut a ditch from the upper stream and connect it with the pond of the lower, and do it as neatly as an engineer with his tools could possibly do it. I have often said that the beaver in the Rocky Mountains had more engineering skill than the entire corps of engineers who were connected with General Grant’s army when he besieged Vicksburg on the banks of the Mississippi. The beaver would never have attempted to turn the Mississippi into a canal to change its channel without first making a dam across the channel below the point of starting the canal. The beaver, as I have said, rivals and sometimes even excels the ingenuity of man.”
Longfellow translates the spirit of the beaver world into words, and enables one in imagination to restore the primeval scenes wherein the beaver lived:—
“Should you ask me, whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest,
With the dew and damp of meadows,
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Should you ask where Nawadaha
Found these songs so wild and wayward,