Part 7

In the heart of the swamp, for which the bobcat was headed, lay a sluggish pond, its waters black with rotting water weeds, and alive with catfish and pickerel. Close in the edge of the tall reeds lay an old flat-bottomed boat in which were two boys, who were fishing for catfish. Already, back in the dense forest surrounding the pond, it was growing black with coming night shadows, but the boys hadn’t noticed it, because the fish were biting splendidly, as they always do just after sunset, leaping right out of the water with sudden splashes, in the center of the pond. Over the farther side of the pond a great night-bird was fishing, sailing low and screaming its uncanny cry as it dove after a fish. One of the boys suddenly noticed it, for the cry made him shiver.

“Say, Jud, what’s that thing, anyhow?” he questioned.

“Just a loon, I guess,” replied the older boy, easily, hooking a wriggling catfish, and taking it from his hook carefully, lest it stab his fingers with its sharp horn.

“Sounds awful kind of scary an’ lonesome, I think, Jud, ’specially when it’s most dark, like it is now. Say, Jud, let’s quit and start for home.”

“Well, we may as well, I guess,” replied Jud, “but I hate to leave now; it’s terrible good fishing. I got two dandy big fellows the last few bites. Guess we got enough, though, for a good mess, and we’ll go before it gets any darker. Say, mother’ll be awful glad of the fresh fish.”

“Bet she will,” replied Tom, as he carefully strung his catch on a willow withe. “Say, it’s funny we can’t get meat and things up here like we do home in Cleveland.”

“Course, we couldn’t expect to, but who cares? Mother’s most well of her cough, staying up here,” replied Jud.

“Say, Jud, I don’t seem to remember this place,” spoke Tom, as they plunged waist high through a forest of tall brakes into swampy, black mire. “Do you s’pose we’re on the right road? Wish we had one of the camp men along.”

“Oh, we’re on the right track. If we keep straight on, I guess we’re bound to strike that piece of corduroy road; then we’re all right anyhow; that’s the lumbermen’s trail,” replied Jud confidently. A long, weird, mocking cry came back to the boys from the direction of the black pond.

“There’s that hateful old loon yelling again; wish we could shoot him,” remarked Tom.

“Hugh, guess when you hit a loon, you’ll have to be pretty old. Why, Indian Pete’s lived all his life in the woods and in a canoe, and he’s only shot one loon; they dive even before the bullet can reach ’em, and they can stay under water and come up a long ways off from the place where you first see ’em dive. They’ve got a crazy kind of a call; guess that’s why they say some people are ‘loony’ when they go out of their minds. Say, Tom,” suddenly exclaimed Jud, blankly, as he paused, “I--I don’t see---- Say, did we come through all these dead woods?” Ahead of the boys towered a great forest of giant spruce, their dead bayoneted limbs showing gray and ghost-like in the darkness.

“Nope, we sure never saw ’em before. We couldn’t ever get through ’em, anyhow, I guess,” replied Tom.

“Well, I guess we’re kind of off the track, somehow,” agreed Jud. “We’ve got to go round these woods. I believe the corduroy road lies over that direction,” and Jud pointed west.

Wearily the two boys tramped back over the trail, which was growing darker every instant, little suspecting that they were lost, hopelessly lost, in the jungle of the forest, and night was close upon them.

Back on the trail the bobcat kept padding silently on its way bound for the pond. It had come out into the clearing, and gave a muffled snarl of dismay when it had discovered the two boys. Back into the shelter of the tall reeds it crept, and lying there flat upon its tawny mottled stomach, it peered forth sullenly and somewhat curiously, watching the boys until they finally left the pond.

Then clawing and scratching its way up a giant spruce, it sent out a long, reassuring yell to its mate, for back in the bobcat’s den, under a distant ledge, she waited with their three young kittens. From her lair she answered the call; it came back through the distance, echoing over the tops of the pines, and through the silent places. This was what the boys had heard and mistaken for the call of the loon.

On and on plodded the two boys, Jud leading the way for his smaller brother through the awful jungle as best he could, which was not very well, because every minute the way appeared to grow darker and wilder. At last, in spite of his hopeful words to Tom, Jud had to admit that they were lost, probably miles away from the home camp.

“What’ll we do now, Jud Brown?” questioned Tom, almost in tears because of his blistered feet.

“Well, no use for us to go on, I guess, even if we could,” replied his brother, rather dejectedly; “seems to be a ledge just ahead of us. We’re climbing it now; guess we better find a dry spot and stay in it until daylight.”

“Guess the folks’ll worry some when we don’t get back. Mother’ll wonder why we don’t come,” said Tom, anxiously. “Why, look up there, Jud; there’s a big, black mountain above, I should think.”

“Yep, ’tis, and I guess it’s old Hog Back by the outlines I can just make out,” and Jud peered into the darkness, anxiously.

“Say, anyhow, it’s an awful black, wild-looking spot right here; perhaps there might be bears, or panthers, or something, Jud,” began Tom.

“Oh, well, there might be, but anyhow the best thing we can do is not to try to climb old Hog Back to-night. As soon as it’s daylight I can find my bearings all right, for I know about where the mountain lies, but we’ll camp under this ledge. Say, great luck, I’ve found two matches in my pocket. We’ll build a fire and cook our fish. Why, we’ll be all right ’til morning,” announced Jud, his spirits rising. “There’s a few hard crackers left, too. Oh, we’re all right.”

The ledge was flat and dry; a great bare stone formed its outer edge, but farther back it was overshadowed by a natural stone roof, and here it was carpeted by soft moss.

“Oh, look, Jud! See what I’ve found--a dandy little cave way back under here. It’s full of dry leaves, too,” announced Tom, joyfully. “Say, we can sleep in here; there’s room enough for both of us.”

“Sure,” replied Jud, busy with his matches and some dry wood, which he soon had crackling and snapping, sending up a cheerful blaze which lighted up the dark, scary places and made things less creepy. Then he deftly skinned the fish, and raked a bed of coals, and they toasted the fish, which were delicious, even though they lacked salt. Then they gathered together quantities of dried spruce and built up a great fire far out on the flat stone at the edge of the ledge.

“Guess whoever sees our fire will think it’s a beacon light, won’t they, Jud?” remarked Tom, as he piled on dry wood.

“They sure will, Tom, and maybe some of the men from camp will be out in the woods and find us. Come on now. We’ll crawl into our spare bedroom; we’ll snug up tight and keep each other warm. There’ll be a big frost to-night.”

Soon the two tired out boys were fast asleep in each other’s arms, while their camp-fire blazed high on the ledge, a regular beacon, as they said.

At least one curious one had followed its gleaming light, for with great, agile, anxious bounds, the bobcat, who had left its mate and kittens in the very den where Jud and Tom were now sleeping, was making its way back to the ledge. Growling and snarling because of the strange light, it crept nearer and nearer the den. The bobcat is by no means so dangerous a foe as the catamount or lynx, but when its young ones are in danger, it is fierce and dangerous enough.

The bobcat seldom climbed the ledge to its den, but would more often mount a tall tree, from where it readily leaped to the flat rock. The cat, having clawed itself up the tree, as usual, raised itself, clinging to a dead branch, and gave forth a long, terrific yell of baffled rage as it faced the camp-fire, which flamed up between it and its den, for when it had left the ledge for the swamp, back of that fire, safe in the den were the bobcat’s family. It dare not leap over the glowing flames; still, unwilling to forsake its mate and kittens, it held its position upon the tree. Another fierce, more terrible yell, and the two boys came tumbling out of the den, and at the same instant the fire flamed up and they both saw the angry bobcat perched in the tree directly opposite them.

“Gee, what’s that thing? A tiger, Jud?” gasped Tom, clutching his brother in sudden terror.

“Nope; maybe a catamount. Say, Jiminy, come to think of it, I guess we must have been asleep in its den,” spoke Jud.

“What’s to hinder his jumping over the fire and tackling us, Jud?” gasped Tom.

“Well, he won’t, not so long as we can keep it built up high. Come on; hurry, Tom. Get more spruce, quick,” and then both boys piled on more wood, and by the light they could still see the angry bobcat, who kept his position right opposite them, its green eyes glittering angrily, occasionally uttering its long, uncanny yell, which echoed back from the dark mountain and sounded like a dozen bobcats yelling in concert.

“Oh, just hear him yell; he’d jump straight on us, only for the fire. Say, we can’t pick up much more wood round here,” announced Jud, finally. “We can’t climb up above either, on account of the rocky roof, and if we go down below he’ll sure jump straight on us. What’ll we do, I wonder?”

“Oh, say, Jud, what can we do, anyhow?” gasped Tom.

“We’ll have to climb down an’ risk his jumping, I guess. I’ll go, Tom. I ain’t afraid, much,” spoke Jud, bravely.

Jud threw the last armful of dry spruce upon the fire, and was just about to climb down the ledge pluckily after more, when both boys heard a far-off, whimpering yell, which came through the woods from somewhere.

“Say, what’s that, Jud? Another one of them things, do you think?” asked Tom, anxiously.

“Sounds mighty like one, but then it’s a long ways off, down below somewhere.”

“But if it comes up here, we can’t fight two of ’em, can we, Jud?”

“No, but we can keep ’em off with clubs. Here, you take this one; it’s got knots all over it; and I’ll find one for myself. We’ll crawl into the den and then if they chase us we’ll whack ’em over the head,” said Jud.

Just then another long, whimpering call came from down below the ledge, and then, instead of leaping, as it might, over the dying fire onto the ledge, as the boys had expected every instant the great cat would do, with its pointed ears laid back upon its flat skull the bobcat, from its perch upon the dead limb, sent back one long, answering yell into the night and began to slide and claw its way hastily down out of the tall tree without even deigning to notice the two boys. For, to tell the truth, the bobcat had only been interested in its little family all the while, and not in the boys at all, and so now with no thought but to follow its mate, whose appealing call had come to it from below, and anxious to get away as far as possible from the bewildering, hateful glare of the flames, which it hated, the wild creature soon caught the welcome, wild scent of the mother cat, and loped off into the dark silence of the night, leaving the two boys alone in safe, undisturbed possession of the bobcat’s den.

XIV

WHY AHMUK THE BEAVER MOVED

Through the summer days most of the wild dwellers of swamp and woods lead rather an idle, care-free life, as is their habit, thinking very little of autumn or winter, because it is a long way off; of course we have to except the squirrels, who are so very thrifty that they run back and forth, industriously storing their winter supplies all summer long. Then, too, there is the beaver family, who are perhaps the busiest creatures of all the wild kindred of the woods.

Wise and thrifty was Ahmuk, the King of a Beaver Colony who lived down in the swamp, and so old was he that actually tufts of snow-white hairs mingled with his stiff, bristling whiskers on either side of his round, furry face. He ruled over the company of beavers who made up his particular colony in the wisest manner, and kept them all busy, which is a trait of the beaver family. One often hears the remark that “he worked like a beaver,” and you had only to watch Ahmuk and his family at work to understand just what this saying meant, for they worked away summer and winter, rain or shine, and, when necessary, all through the night, especially in freshet time.

One day, after Ahmuk had hastily called a council together, all the beavers, young and old, hurriedly began to tear down their old cabins beside the stream and move them higher up on the bank. The beaver cabins were built upon a solid foundation of sticks and brush, rounded off at the top, and neatly plastered over with mud, clay and sod, which they slapped into place with their flat, spade-like tails, which they use almost as well as another pair of hands.

The stream where Ahmuk and his colony lived ran through the heart of the great swamp, so they had many other neighbors; they never quarreled, however, for beavers are most amiable in disposition, and inclined to be friendly with all their wild kindred. Musquash, the muskrat, and his great tribe lived close by, and were a sort of cousin to the beaver family, for their habits were quite similar, and they also built their lodges along the banks of the stream. All through the rank grasses of the swamp, and threading the tall reeds you might see their winding, well-worn trails.

One day when Musquash the muskrat swam past the cabins of Ahmuk the beaver, he saw them at work moving their lodges, and paused to watch them, even forgetting to munch a prize of lily roots because of his great curiosity. He saw them all out upon the bank, working away for dear life, and hurrying madly, never stopping an instant, as they tore down all the old foundations and moved them far above the old site.

“Now I wonder what that’s for?” thought Musquash to himself; “it seems to me that my cousins the beavers are always making themselves a lot of unnecessary work. Moving again? How foolish! Well, I don’t intend to move my family again this season; the old huts are quite good enough;” and then Musquash, having satisfied his curiosity, lazily paddled himself down-stream leaving a long line of bubbles in the brown water to show where he had passed.

Now, if Musquash had but tarried long enough to ask Ahmuk why he was moving he might have been a great deal wiser, and thus saved himself much trouble and sorrow, for Ahmuk was so very wise that he knew that a big flood was coming very soon; and sure enough it did, and then the water rose and rose for days, until it washed away all the muskrat cabins, and even drowned out some of the little muskrats who were tucked away in distant chambers of the settlement, and were too young to swim and save themselves. But high and dry, far up on the bank above the great flood, stood the cabins of Ahmuk the beaver, quite safe; their work had not been in vain.

Soon after the great flood Ahmuk and the colony began to work building a wonderful, great dam, for they wished to make the stream into a pond. So they began to chop down great trees, gnawing them in such a manner that they cut the deepest place in the tree trunk next to the water, so that it would fall that way, and thus they would be saved the trouble of dragging the log a distance. Ahmuk and his tribe had such strong, chisel-like teeth that they could soon chop down quite a large tree, then they would gnaw out deep grooves all around the trunk, and chisel out the wood pulp in great chips, and just as soon as the tree got ready to fall, Ahmuk would slap a loud warning signal with his tail, and all the colony would scuttle away for safety to a high bank, when down came the tree with a mighty crash. When the danger was over and the tree down, back they would all come, and set to work trimming off the branches of the tree, precisely as the lumbermen do. They would then cut the trunk into suitable lengths for building the dam. It was great fun to watch Ahmuk directing the work of the dam building. Altogether they would push the log off into the water, then several of the young, strong beavers would shove it into place, and then they all set to work bringing gravel, mud and stones to fill up and cement the crevices together. They were always careful to build against the current, so that their work might not be washed away. Sometimes the large logs had to be drawn from some distance away from the dam; then Ahmuk would set them all to work, and they would actually dig out a channel right through the soft mud of the swamp, and float the log down to the dam.

At last the dam was finished and sentinels appointed to watch it day and night, for just as soon as a sentinel would discover a break in the dam he would awaken all the colony, and out they would tumble from the cabins, and work all night if necessary to make it safe and strong again. Sometimes Ahmuk even found it necessary to build a smaller dam below the large one to protect it. Then, too, when he found a low spot anywhere along the bank, he set them all to work building it up high enough to keep the water from running out of their pond. So you can readily understand that the dam required constant attention to keep it safe. When everything was in fine shape, the new pond soon became so deep that all sorts of strange new water plants, which the beavers loved, began to grow in the deeper water, while down from the smaller streams came trout, pickerel, and bull-pouts to live in the thick growths of water-weeds; and best of all, the pond lilies grew and floated upon the surface of the new pond, and every morning spread out their white, dewy petals in the early dawn; while below, in the dim, green depths of the water, trailed the long, succulent lily roots which Ahmuk and his family loved to feed upon.

The building of the great dam, and the making of the pond brought plenty of new neighbors to the spot: the great blue heron and her family, the kingfisher tribe, and many others, because the Beaver Colony had made the place so beautiful and inviting, and there were wonderful new things to be found in the pond. The long summer days came, and in the beaver cabins the family of Ahmuk was becoming so large that Ahmuk held counsel with the colony, and they finally decided that the time had come when the younger families must start out and look for a new place to live in. So, as the beaver family are very sociable, and always like to travel in companies, they all set off together one fine moonlight night to seek a new place for their dam-building, and to found another village.

The colony traveled together a long distance, for they really could not decide just where to settle, because each place which they came to seemed not just what they were looking for, not nearly as fine a location as the old village had been. Then, too, when the longing for wandering seizes the beavers they are prone to make long journeys into strange countries before they settle down. But finally Ahmuk, rather tired of wandering, and anxious to get back home, if the truth were known, advised them that they had found the proper spot at last, for he saw that there would be plenty of fine young timber close at hand for them to build a dam. So, altogether, they set to work and built a beautiful new dam, and then when it was finished Ahmuk, just to encourage the young beavers, and wishing to leave them comfortably settled, helped them build three fine roomy cabins on the edge of the stream; and making sure that they had plenty of tender young green saplings to nibble on in their larder, Ahmuk and his faithful old mate bade the younger colony farewell and journeyed back to their old home.

Now it so happened that the swamp had always been the safest kind of a home for the Beaver Colony, for seldom did anything ever disturb its wild inhabitants or enter the swamp. But slowly and surely men are beginning to search out and find the secret hiding-places of all little furry creatures of the wood, and while Ahmuk had been far off, at the very source of the stream up in the region of the tall pines, where the little mountain torrents and trout streams are born, a trapper had visited the camp of Ahmuk the beaver. He discovered the deserted cabins and the fine dam, and well knowing the habits of the beaver, he decided that they had simply gone off on a little pleasure excursion, for he did not believe they would willingly give up their fine dam and cabins, and thought they would return in time. So, very warily and cunningly, the trapper set his snares, because one must be exceedingly crafty and wise to trap a beaver.

Back from their long, tiresome wanderings came Ahmuk and his mate, and even though they were weary they both set to work making repairs upon the dam, for something had torn it apart; perhaps the hoofs of clumsy old Megalup, the caribou, or even Unk-Wunk the mischievous porcupine, who just loved to gnaw and gnaw, and destroy every log which came in his way.

When Ahmuk and his mate had finished repairing the dam, they went to their cabin to rest, but Ahmuk happened to remember a little chink which he thought should be strengthened, so turned back to the dam to stow away a few more stones, while his mate entered the cabin. Soon he heard her give a sharp cry of distress, and hurrying to the cabin he soon saw that she had been caught in a cruel trap, which had been deftly concealed beneath the cabin floor. Instantly Ahmuk set about trying to free his mate from the cruel steel teeth, which had nipped into her leg. Bravely they tugged and worked, trying to free her, but in vain. Then, in desperation, Ahmuk, wild with anxiety, with bulging, anxious eyes, set to work with his chisel-like teeth, and as gently as he could he sawed through the leg of his brave little mate, and she was free. True, she had to leave one little black foot behind in the trap, but she didn’t mind that.

Ahmuk and his mate took to the water, and swam swiftly away, leaving behind them forever the beautiful dam and their comfortable cabins. And now afar off, in a spot which it is doubtful if any trapper will ever discover, live Ahmuk and his mate, with a fine new family. They have already built a new dam, and right in the center of it, watchful as ever, you may see Ahmuk himself sitting, erect as a soldier, a sentinel on guard duty; while close by among the thick jungle of the forest the whippoorwills and little brown screech owls keep him company, and his mate and the beaver children sleep safely, not so very far off, in their fine, new cabin on the bank of the pond.

XV

NICODEMUS, KING OF CROW COLONY

“Caw-r-r, caw-r-r, caw-r-r-r,” called the leaders of Crow Colony, scolding and consulting together. It was spring down in Balsam Swamp, and they were preparing to disband and make their nests in which to raise their young.

On the very tip-top of a giant balsam, which had been broken off by the fierce winter gales, Nicodemus, king of the Crow Colony, had, year after year, built his nest. You see, the top of the balsam, being broken off, formed quite a broad platform, just the very spot for a crow’s nest. From its lofty height the whole surrounding country lay spread out beneath like a great map. Besides, the high balsam was sure to be a safe spot, for the tree was very hard to climb, its branches growing at such a great distance from the ground.

Now all winter long the crows had lived together in a colony, but as soon as the sap began to ascend in the maple trees, and even before the thin ice was gone from the water-holes down in the swamp, they began to disband and to come forth from their sheltered retreats in the dense pine forests out into the open country.