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Page 16
The forest grew deeper. It was wonderful virgin forest. There was no
undergrowth, and traveling under the trees was like being in a vast,
mystery-filled cavern through the roof of which the light of day broke
softly, brightened here and there by golden splashes of the sun. For a
mile Baree made his way quietly through this forest. He saw nothing but
a few winged flirtings of birds; there was almost no sound. Then he
came to a still larger pond. Around this pond there was a thick growth
of alders and willows where the larger trees had thinned out. He saw
the glimmer of afternoon sunlight on the water--and then, all at once,
he heard life.
There had been few changes in Beaver Tooth's colony since the days of
his feud with Kazan and the otters. Old Beaver Tooth was somewhat
older. He was fatter. He slept a great deal, and perhaps he was less
cautious. He was dozing on the great mud-and-brushwood dam of which he
had been engineer-in-chief, when Baree came out softly on a high bank
thirty or forty feet away. So noiseless had Baree been that none of the
beavers had seen or heard him. He squatted himself flat on his belly,
hidden behind a tuft of grass, and with eager interest watched every
movement. Beaver Tooth was rousing himself. He stood on his short legs
for a moment; then he tilted himself up on his broad, flat tail like a
soldier at attention, and with a sudden whistle dived into the pond
with a great splash.
In another moment it seemed to Baree that the pond was alive with
beavers. Heads and bodies appeared and disappeared, rushing this way
and that through the water in a manner that amazed and puzzled him. It
was the colony's evening frolic. Tails hit the water like flat boards.
Odd whistlings rose above the splashing--and then as suddenly as it had
begun, the play came to an end. There were probably twenty beavers, not
counting the young, and as if guided by a common signal--something
which Baree had not heard--they became so quiet that hardly a sound
could be heard in the pond. A few of them sank under the water and
disappeared entirely, but most of them Baree could watch as they drew
themselves out on shore.
The beavers lost no time in getting at their labor, and Baree watched
and listened without so much as rustling a blade of the grass in which
he was concealed. He was trying to understand. He was striving to place
these curious and comfortable-looking creatures in his knowledge of
things. They did not alarm him; he felt no uneasiness at their number
or size. His stillness was not the quiet of discretion, but rather of a
strange and growing desire to get better acquainted with this curious
four-legged brotherhood of the pond. Already they had begun to make the
big forest less lonely for him. And then, close under him--not more
than ten feet from where he lay--he saw something that almost gave
voice to the puppyish longing for companionship that was in him.
Down there, on a clean strip of the shore that rose out of the soft mud
of the pond, waddled fat little Umisk and three of his playmates. Umisk
was just about Baree's age, perhaps a week or two younger. But he was
fully as heavy, and almost as wide as he was long. Nature can produce
no four-footed creature that is more lovable than a baby beaver, unless
it is a baby bear; and Umisk would have taken first prize at any beaver
baby show in the world. His three companions were a bit smaller. They
came waddling from behind a low willow, making queer little chuckling
noises, their little flat tails dragging like tiny sledges behind them.
They were fat and furry, and mighty friendly looking to Baree, and his
heart beat a sudden swift-pit-a-pat of joy.
But Baree did not move. He scarcely breathed. And then, suddenly, Umisk
turned on one of his playmates and bowled him over. Instantly the other
two were on Umisk, and the four little beavers rolled over and over,
kicking with their short feet and spatting with their tails, and all
the time emitting soft little squeaking cries. Baree knew that it was
not fight but frolic. He rose up on his feet. He forgot where he
was--forgot everything in the world but those playing, furry balls. For
the moment all the hard training nature had been giving him was lost.
He was no longer a fighter, no longer a hunter, no longer a seeker
after food. He was a puppy, and in him there rose a desire that was
greater than hunger. He wanted to go down there with Umisk and his
little chums and roll and play. He wanted to tell them, if such a thing
were possible, that he had lost his mother and his home, and that he
had been having a mighty hard time of it, and that he would like to
stay with them and their mothers and fathers if they didn't mind.
In his throat there came the least bit of a whine. It was so low that
Umisk and his playmates did not hear it. They were tremendously busy.
Softly Baree took his first step toward them, and then another--and at
last he stood on the narrow strip of shore within half a dozen feet of
them. His sharp little ears were pitched forward, and he was wiggling
his tail as fast as he could, and every muscle in his body was
trembling in anticipation.
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