"And I," said Fisher.
"I too, Mooswa," cried Mink.
"I have seen it," quoth Muskrat; "it's just beautiful!"
"You tell them about Umisk's food supply, Brother Muskrat," commanded the Moose. "I can't dive under the water like you and see it ready stored, but I have observed the trees cut down by his chisel-teeth."
"You make me blush," remonstrated Beaver, modestly.
"Beautiful White Poplar trees," went on Mooswa; "and always cut so they fall just on the edge of the stream. Is that not clever for one of us? Man can't do it every time."
"Trowel Tail only cuts the leaning trees--that's why!" explained Whisky-Jack.
Mooswa was too haughty to notice the interruption, but continued his laudation of Beaver's cunning work.
"Then our Brother Umisk cuts the Poplar into pieces the length of my leg; and, while I think of it, I'd like to ask him why he leaves on the end of each stick a piece like the handle of a rolling-pin."
"What's a rolling-pin?" gasped Jay.