turally take the direction in
which their trunks or branches preponderate.

"I have often," says Captain Bonneville, "seen trees measuring eighteen
inches in diameter, at the places where they had been cut through by the
beaver, but they lay in all directions, and often very inconveniently
for the after purposes of the animal. In fact, so little ingenuity do
they at times display in this particular, that at one of our camps on
Snake River, a beaver was found with his head wedged into the cut which
he had made, the tree having fallen upon him and held him prisoner until
he died."

Great choice, according to the captain, is certainly displayed by
the beaver in selecting the wood which is to furnish bark for winter
provision. The whole beaver household, old and young, set out upon this
business, and will often make long journeys before they are suited.
Sometimes they cut down trees of the largest size and then cull the
branches, the bark of which is most to their taste. These they cut into
lengths of about three feet, convey them to the water, and float them to
their lodges, where they are stored away for winter. They are studious
of cleanliness and comfort in their lodges, and after their repasts,
will carry out the sticks from which they have eaten the bark, and throw
them into the current beyond the barrier. They are jealous, too, of
their territories, and extremely pugnacious, never permitting a strange
beaver to enter their premises, and often fighting with such virulence
as almost to tear each other to pieces. In the spring, which is the
breeding season, the male leaves the female at home, and sets off on a
tour of pleasure, rambling often to a great distance, recreating himself
in every clear and quiet expanse of water on his way, and climbing
the banks occasionally to feast upon the tender sprouts of the young
willows. As summer advances, he gives up his bachelor rambles, and
bethinking himself of housekeeping duties, returns home to his mate and
his new progeny, and marshals them all for the foraging expedition in
quest of winter provisions.

After having shown the public spirit of this praiseworthy little animal
as a member of a community, and his amiable and exemplary conduct as
the father of a family, we grieve to record the perils with which he is
environed, and the snares set for him and his painstaking household.

Practice, says Captain Bonneville, has given such a quickness of eye to
the experienced tra