"Something the Cook throws at your head when you're trying to steal his dinner," interjected Carcajou.
Lynx laughed maliciously at this thrust. "Isn't Wolverine a witty chap?" he said, fawningly, to Blue Wolf.
"I know what that cunning little end is for," declared Muskrat; "I'll tell you what Beaver does with the sticks under water, and then you'll understand."
Black King yawned as though all this bored him. "He doesn't like to hear his rival praised," sneered Whisky-Jack; "it makes him sleepy."
"Well," continued Wuchusk, "Beaver floats the Poplar down to his pond, to a little place just up stream from his lodge, with a nice, soft bottom. There he dives swiftly with each piece, and the small round end you speak of, Mooswa, sticks in the mud, see? Oh, it is clever; I wish I could do it,--but I can't. I have to rummage around all Winter for my dinner. All the sticks stand there close together on end; the ice forms on top of the water, and nobody can see them. When Umisk wants his dinner, he swims up the pond, selects a nice, fat, juicy Poplar, pulls it out of the mud, floats it in the front door of his pretty, round-roofed lodge, strips off the rough covering, and eats the white, mealy inner-bark. It's delicious! No wonder Beaver is fat."
"I should think it would be indigestible," said Lynx. "But isn't Umisk kind to his family--dear little Chap!"
"Must be hard on the teeth," remarked Mink. "I find fishbones tough enough."
"Oh, it's just lovely!" sighed Beaver. "I like it."
"What do you do with the logs after you've eaten the crust?" asked Black King, pretending to be interested.
"Float them down against the dam," answered Beaver. "They come in handy for repairing breaks."