were then rolled,
shoved or dragged, as the case might require, down the smooth trails
already made in hauling the brush, and dumped into the canal. Other
beavers presently appeared, and began towing the sticks and brush down
the canal to the pond. This part of the process was hidden from the
eager watchers in the thicket; but the Boy guessed, from his own
experience in pushing a log endwise before him while in swimming, that
the beavers would handle the sticks in the same way. With the brush,
however, it was different. In hauling it down the trail each beaver
took a branch in his teeth, by the butt, twisted it across his
shoulders, and let it drag behind him. It was obvious that in the
water, too, this would be the most convenient way to handle such
material. The beavers were not the kind of people to waste their
strength in misdirected effort.

[Illustration: "TWISTED IT ACROSS HIS SHOULDERS, AND LET IT DRAG BEHIND
HIM."]

While all this cutting and hauling was going on, the big beaver down
at the head of the canal was attending strictly to his task, running
his lines straight, digging the turf and clay, shoving his loads up
the slope and out upon the edge of the ditch. The process was all in
clear, easy view of the watchers, their place of hiding being not more
than eight or ten paces distant.

They had grown altogether absorbed in watching the little canal-builder,
when a cracking sound made them turn their eyes. The tree was toppling
slowly. Every beaver now made a mad rush for the canal, not caring
how much noise he made--and plunged into the water. Slowly,
reluctantly, majestically, the tall birch swung forward straight down
the slope, its top describing a great arc against the sky and
gathering the air in its branches with a low but terrifying roar. The
final crash was unexpectedly gentle,--or rather, would have seemed so
to one unfamiliar with tree-felling. Some branches snapped, some
sticks flew up and dropped, there was a shuddering confusion in the
crystal air for a few seconds, then the stillness fell once more.

But now there was not a beaver to be seen. Jabe wondered if they had
been scared by the results of their own work; or if one of their
sentinels had come and peered into the thicket from the rear. As
minute after minute dragged by, and nothing happened, he began to
realize that his muscles were aching savagely from their long
restraint. He was on the point of moving, of whispering to ask the Bo