ppens that this cunning, amphibious
animal can be seen moving free, either on the river banks, or in the
water; for nature has given him no powerful weapons with which to
defend himself when surprised and attacked; but, what is better, she
has endowed him with exceedingly sensitive eyesight and hearing, which
enables him to detect the approach of danger in time to escape. The
marks, however, which he leaves behind are, for a time, ineffaceable.
These were only to be detected and used for his own purposes, by the
superior intellect of man. The unequalled industry of gnawing down
trees and cutting twigs, peeling off the tender cuticle of the willow
bushes, digging away banks, and carrying on their shovel-shaped tails
the earth, together with innumerable foot-prints and sometimes dams,
were the items which filled up the catalogue of "signs" on which the
trappers' vision was regaled after long and dangerous tramps in search
of them. These "signs" were not always found together; but instead,
they each could exist separately and thus would arouse the hunter's
suspicions of the game near by. The little twig, as it floated down
the stream, half denuded of its bark, would go unheeded by the casual
observer, but, to the experienced trapper, it was a prize to be
obtained; for, by its freshness, it indicated to his mind how near
he was to the chance of obtaining and adding another pound or so of
valuable fur to his stock on hand. To him, this small event, or one
like it, as for instance, a fresh footprint, with its neatly defined
claw-tracks, as moulded in the moistened earth or sand, was of
a greater importance than the wonderful and striking workmanship
exhibited in a dam; for, the latter might be old and deserted,
whereas, the former was too recent to cause him to be deceived with
such a sign; and in such a vicinity, he hesitated not to set his trap.

An idea prevails which ought to be exploded. It is boldly asserted
that the beaver builds his dam for the purpose of having a nice
swimming pond in the neighborhood of his residence, which is always
located in the river's bank. This is not true; for, in every stream
which he inhabits, if this was his sole object, he could select many
natural places where the water is without a ripple and where it is
both deep and broad. The animal has a wiser object in view; and, it
consists in providing against the pinching wants of hunger during
winter, when nearly everything green has lost its s