Wilderness Babies

by Julia Augusta Schwartz

The old father pushed his pole into the water; then he jumped in, and, taking hold of it with his teeth, he swam out above the hole. When he let go the water carried the pole squarely across the break in the dam. The other beavers cut bushes and floated them down to weave across the hole. After that they scooped up mud and stones to plaster the dam till not a drop trickled through the mended places.

The next work to be done that autumn was to gather food for the winter. Some of the trees with the juiciest bark grew too far away to be easily dragged to the pond. All the grown-up beavers set to work to dig a canal. They dug and scooped and gnawed off roots, and dragged out stones, till they had made a long canal more than a foot deep. The water flowed into this from the pond. Then it was easy enough to float wood from the juicy trees down to the beaver village.

Even the babies could help in towing the wood down the canal and across the pond to the different houses. Some of the wood became so heavy with soaked-up water that it sank to the bottom beside the doors, and could be packed in a solid pile as easily as on land. Most of the wood, however, kept light enough to float. Instead of heaping new sticks on top, the beavers pushed them under the top branches. Then more was pressed under that, and more under that, till the pile reached to the bottom. In the winter, of course, the top sticks could not be eaten, because they would be frozen fast in the ice.

The autumn days were growing frostier and frostier. After mending the dam and gathering their woodpiles, the beavers plastered a last coat of mud all over the outside of their houses. The mud froze hard and made the little rooms inside as safe as a fort, with walls two feet thick. The babies carried leaves and grasses for their fresh beds. With a bundle tucked between his chin and fore-paw, each one hobbled along on three legs, “working like a beaver,” as the saying is.

One cloudy night, when the beavers were busy out in the woods, something soft and cold began to float down through the chilly air. The biggest baby felt a sting on his nose. When he put out his tongue to lick it he touched only a speck of water. Bits of white sifted on his fur and melted in drops. Presently the ground began to look lighter colored. Something fluttered about his head and settled on his eyelashes. He winked and sneezed and squeaked to the other babies. They had never seen a snowstorm before.

When they jumped into the pond to paddle home something sharp and brittle cracked and snapped in the icy black water. One of the little fellows caught a bit in his mouth. It smarted on his tongue and then it was gone. It was the first time that he had ever tasted ice.

The next night, when the beavers swam to the top of the pond, they bumped their heads against something hard. It cracked all around them. They pushed on, with the water lapping at the jagged edges. After they reached the shore they found it very tiresome to wade through the snow. Before the night was quarter past the old father hurried back to the pond. He was afraid that the ice might freeze too thick for them to break their way home again. He arched his back and slapped his tail on the water with an echoing whack to call the babies after him.

All winter long the beavers lived quietly in their little homes under the snow. Most of the time they slept, each on his own soft bed in the dark. Whenever they were hungry they paddled down the tunnel which led to the woodpile. Gnawing off some sticks they swam back with the bundles under their chins. They used the middle of the room for a dining-table. There they nibbled the bark. Then they carried the peeled sticks back into the pond. They did not like to have rubbish left on the floor.

Sometimes the babies grew restless and tired of staying still in the room. They swam out into the pond and moved about under the ice. They hunted for roots of the yellow water-lily. It must have been hard to hold their breaths long enough to dig up the roots and paddle away back into the house. Once the biggest baby almost had a fight with one of his playmates over a juicy root. They pulled at it so roughly that it was torn to pieces.