"Yes," said Hugh, "I have heard that story, too, but I don't believe it. Beaver will cut down trees, and mighty big ones, too, but I don't believe that they can cut down a tree so that it will fall in a particular direction, and if it does fall in a direction to be useful to them, that's just nothing but accident. What they cut trees down for is for the food that they know is growing on the tree. They want to get at the tender bark of the branches for their food, and that's what they cut the trees for. All the same, it's mighty wonderful sometimes to see what big trees they will cut down, and how smart they are about cutting them. They will gnaw a deep gouge below and then gnaw another cut eight or ten inches above, and pull the chip out; a chip just about as big as an axman would cut out with an ax. They are smart about that, but they haven't any idea which way the tree is going to fall."
"Well," said Jack, "that seems natural enough, and besides that, I should think that even if beaver did know how to fell the tree to lie in a particular direction, they could not always do it with these crooked old cottonwood trees that grow along the streams."
"Yes," said Hugh, "some of them are so crooked and grow so slantwise that no axman could fell them the way he wanted."
"I have seen it stated in books, too," Jack went on, "that they always fell a tree just long enough to reach across the stream, and no longer. I never could see how that could be, because it would be impossible for beaver to measure the height of a tree."
"Oh," said Hugh, "that's all nonsense; they don't do anything like that. There is one thing which they do, though, that people don't give them credit for, or at least I have never heard anybody speak about it; they'll build a dam across a creek and raise the water, and make a big wide pond. Maybe the water flows over the top of the dam pretty freely for its whole length. Such a pond will be lived in for a good many years. During all those years the rain and the melting snow, and all the water that falls, carries down from the hills soil and dead leaves and sticks and a whole lot of trash, and after a time the pond fills up and gets too shallow for the beaver to use it. Then maybe they'll raise the dam for its whole length, and make the pond bigger, and then after years of time this larger pond will partly fill up and grow shallow. After a time the beaver will, perhaps, leave the pond, and go somewhere else to build another. Then, after a few years the dam will rot out and break down, the pond will go dry, the water will get back to its old channel, and grass and willows and other brush will grow up over the old bottom of the pond, and there you've got a big wide flat—what we call a beaver meadow. All along streams all over this western country there are big strips of flat land that have been made just in this way by the beaver."
"I have never thought of that before, Hugh, and I never heard anybody speak of it. The time may come when people will farm on these big flats, never knowing how they were made."
"Yes, that's a fact," said Hugh, "and already there are lots of places down toward the prairie where folks have started ranches on land of just that sort.
"Let me tell you another thing that beaver are smart about. Sometimes they will make a pond in a particular valley, quite a distance from any place where their food grows. Often there are no willows, and the quaking aspen grows only along the foothills, maybe quite a little distance from the edge of their pond. Sometimes they will dig out a ditch or canal all the way from the edge of the pond up close to where the aspen grows. Of course, the water from the pond fills up these ditches, and the beaver will follow them up close to the aspens, cut down their feed there, and cutting the trees and brush into convenient lengths, carry them to the ditches, dump them in and then take and swim with them back to their houses, or the places where they store their food. This always seemed to me pretty smart, because, while it must be a lot of work for them to dig the ditch, it's a tremendous saving of labor for them to be able to float these sticks to where they want them."
"That seems to me mighty intelligent, Hugh, and I should think, too, that they might have another motive in digging these ditches. If they had to travel two or three hundred yards on dry land, wouldn't there be a good deal of danger of their getting caught away out from the water and killed?"
"Lots of danger," said Hugh, "and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they made these ditches more for their safety than to save themselves work. They are mighty industrious animals, the beaver. You know, if we see a man that is hard at work all the time, we say he works like a beaver. They are busy animals, and they keep at it all the time."