Polly and Eleanor Part 10

"But what do you call them when you address them?"

"I always call the old one 'Grandfather,' but he has a large family that I never bother with. _He_ is our friend.

"This family lives and does queer things that no city folks ever dream of," added Polly.

"Something like that Halsey woman, eh?" laughed Eleanor, who had heard from Sary about the disobedient children.

"The Beavers are too polite to force their company on us. And as we may not care to eat as they do, I decided to bring lunch, which we can enjoy by ourselves," explained Polly.

Noddy and Choko now reached the trail leading up the pine-tipped crest of the mountain back of Pebbly Pit, and were soon climbing through a veritable wilderness of sage-brush and aspens.

"My, what a place to live in!" said Eleanor, surprised.

"It's not far, now," returned Polly.

Shortly after this, Polly turned Noddy from the old trail and plunged into a thicket of aspens.

"Good gracious! How can they ever find their own home?" wondered Eleanor, gazing at the closely growing aspen trees.

"They know everything! And Noddy knows the way by this time, too, as I like to come here and spend the day. Besides there are blazes on the large trees to guide one."

Noddy came out of the aspen grove after a time and then followed a mountain-stream up-trail for half a mile or so, before turning to look at her rider.

"Oh, you wise little Noddy. How did you know I wanted to stop here?"

laughed Polly, patting the burro affectionately.

Noddy flicked back her long ears in approval of such words and petting, but Eleanor's cry made the burro listen intently.

"Polly! What a dreadful place to live in! Surely no one exists in this lonesome wilderness, do they?"

"Mr. Beaver is clearing away the aspens just as fast as he can, but as soon as they are all cut down, he will move the whole family to some other dense grove, as they live on aspens, you know."

"What--what! I didn't understand you!" cried Eleanor.

Polly laughed as she pointed to a pond made by a dam crudely built across the stream. It was rough and queer looking, but it answered its purpose very well.

Eleanor saw half a dozen conical shaped huts built of mud in a row across the dam, then she stared at both sides of the stream, up and down, but no other habitation could she see. On the opposite bank several large trees had been felled and a quant.i.ty of aspens had been cut down and piled in confusion on the edge of the water.

"Do your ranchers live near here?" asked she.

"I didn't say they were ranchers, Nolla."

"Well, woodcutters, or what you call them!"

"Yes," laughed Polly, "they are woodcutters and live in those mud huts."

"What?" cried Eleanor again.

"S-s.h.!.+ Not so loud or you will frighten them away!"

"Polly--impossible! What _do_ you mean anyway?"

"The beavers live there until the family grows too large, then they either build another story to the house, or start a new colony where aspens can be had in plenty. As there are so many young aspens here in perfect security, for the beavers, Grandfather Beaver remains here."

"Oh, Polly! You mean they are _real beavers_!" gasped Eleanor.

"Yes, and I knew you would love to see them at work, but we have to keep very quiet if we want them to come out."

"Tell me about them--quick--before we have to go away," begged Eleanor, eagerly.

"We won't have to go, but we have to keep quiet. You see they must have been cutting aspens over there, when they heard us coming and so they made a dive for safety. They are now hiding in the huts."

"What can we do to coax them out again?"

"We'll lead the burros to the park to graze, and we'll come back and sit quietly on this rock to watch for them."

So the two burros were taken to a small nearby clearing where buffalo gra.s.s offered a juicy repast for them. Having hobbled them to keep them from straying, Polly led the way back to the beaver-dam.

"If you were over there to examine those cut aspens you would find each one about eighteen inches long and about one and a half inches thick.

The beavers always build near an aspen grove, as it is their food, but not finding a grove near the water, they have to swim up or down until they reach what they need. That is why you find their huts on water,"

explained Polly.

"But I've heard they are water animals."

Before Polly could reply, a sleek head bobbed up from the water near one of the huts and Eleanor gasped with surprise. The beaver swam to the opposite bank where the trees had been cut down. He climbed quickly out of the stream and started to roll a heavy log over the ground until it splashed down into the pond. He then jumped after it and continued rolling and pus.h.i.+ng it along till he reached the dam. Instantly, more beavers came out from the huts and a.s.sisted in towing the log to their dam of aspens.

"Oh, oh, Polly!" whispered Eleanor in excited astonishment, but Polly held her finger over her lips in warning.

"I do believe they plan to build a new dam further up-stream, Nolla. If that is so, we will have something worth while to watch for during the next few days. Just now they are repairing the old houses for the Winter, and that log is to be a bulwark about which green cuttings of willow and young aspens can be woven as a partial strainer for the water. The debris that thus collects in the c.h.i.n.ks between the cuttings, makes the dam firmer and yet more flexible than a solid structure would."

Just then, the sound of a falling tree made Eleanor jump and look across the stream.

"Other industrious beavers cutting down another tree," explained Polly.

"How do they ever do it, Poll?"

"If you watch, you will see that beaver go to work."

Not one beaver appeared, but four that hurried to the bank and moved the newly cut tree into the water. One of the four dragged the tree with its branches still on, into the mid-stream where, catching a heavy branch between his teeth, he steered it to the row of huts.

Directly back of the first one, swam the other three, each dragging a section of tree to deposit on the dam, where an old beaver was hard at work. As soon as the first beaver reached the huts, the old fellow gave a peculiar call that brought out a score or more of workers. They all went to their tasks as if drilled by a master.

"My old Grandfather is not there this morning, or that other boss would not be taking his place," whispered Polly.

Eleanor had been using her eyes to good advantage and now called to Polly anxiously. "Look a'there, Polly! Those beavers are eating the tree!"

"They're not eating it but are cutting it down. Now you watch and you will see how they do it."