he was just about to
learn the exact methods of these wonderful architects of the wild, a
stick in the slowly settling mud beneath his feet broke with a soft,
thick-muffled snap.

[Illustration: "BEGAN TO CLIMB OUT UPON THE CREST OF THE DAM."]

So soft was the sound that it barely reached the Boy's ears. To the
marvellously sensitive ears of the beaver, however, it was a warning
more than sufficient. It was a noisy proclamation of peril. Swift as a
wink of light, the beaver dropped his stick and dived head first into
the pond. The Boy straightened up just in time to see him vanish. As
he vanished, his broad, flat, naked tail hit the water with a cracking
slap which resounded over the pond like a pistol-shot. It was reechoed
by four or five more splashes from the upper portion of the pond.
Then all was silence again, and the Boy realized that there would be
no more chance that night for him to watch the little people of the
House in the Water. Mounting the firm-woven face of the dam and
casting his eyes all over the pond, he satisfied himself that two
houses which he had first seen were all that it contained. Then,
resisting the impulse of his excitement, which was to explore all
around the pond's borders at once, he resolutely turned his face back
to camp, full of thrilling plans for the morrow.

CHAPTER II

The Battle in the Pond

AT breakfast, in the crisp of the morning, while yet the faint
mists clung over the brook and the warmth of the camp-fire was
attractive, the Boy proclaimed his find. Jabe had asked no questions,
inquisitiveness being contrary to the backwoodsman's code of
etiquette; but his silence had been full of interrogation. With his
mouth half-full of fried trout and cornbread, the Boy remarked:

"That was no windfall, Jabe, that noise we heard last night!"

"So?" muttered the woodsman, rather indifferently.

Without a greater show of interest than that the Boy would not divulge
his secret. He helped himself to another flaky pink section of trout,
and became seemingly engrossed in it. Presently the woodsman spoke
again. He had been thinking, and had realized that his prestige had
suffered some kind of blow.

"Of course," drawled the woodsman sarcastically, "it wa'n't no
windfall. I jest said that to git quit of bein' asked questions when I
was sleepy. I knowed all the time it was beaver!"

"Yes, Jabe," admitted the Boy, "it was beavers. I've found a big
beaver-pond just up the broo