rove to the stream of
water."

"Then they ought to use all those trees already down. There are lots
that have been felled by forest fires, I guess."

"There again they show their wisdom," explained Polly. "A beaver never
cuts dead wood as it dulls and injures his teeth. And dead wood does not
last like live trees, either."

At this moment, Grandfather Beaver seemed to sniff a familiar as well as
a doubtful presence. He lifted his nose high and thumped his tail for an
assistant. Leaving commands with this beaver, the Grandfather went into
the stream and swam away.

Eleanor was sorry to lose sight of him, but almost before she could
speak, the old fellow rose laboriously from the water just in front of
her. He waited, sniffing anxiously, but found a stranger with his
friend, so he half-slid back into the stream.

Polly made strange sounds and ran down towards him. To Eleanor's
amazement the old fellow actually expressed joy at seeing a friend. He
emitted peculiar sounds and Polly stood a few feet away uttering queer
sounds, too. Then he sent her a look of love--if there ever was one--and
after this welcome he slid back into the water to continue the work as
overseer.

"Polly Brewster--I never in all my life!" gasped Eleanor.

Polly laughed as she watched her beaver join the workers and scold them
for laziness while he was absent visiting a friend.

"Let's get the burros, now, and I'll show you a place where we can lunch
while I tell you how Grandfather and I got to know each other so well,"
suggested Polly.

As the girls rode along the up-trail, Polly told the story.

[A]"A few years ago, while out adventuring, I found this colony of
beavers. I wanted father to come with me and see them, but he was too
busy that year.

[Footnote A: A true story.]

"The following Summer, however, he came and we sat on the same rock
where you and I sat to-day.

"We had to wait for ten minutes or more, before a beaver came out of his
hut in the dam. It was not as large or strong a dam, then, as now. The
beaver was anxious to reach a spot in the aspen grove where we could
hear the other beavers at work.

"To reach the grove, he had to come up out of the stream and cross some
land to the other pond. Just as he climbed up from the water, he sniffed
danger. He was directly opposite us and we could see everything very
plainly.

"Father lifted his rifle slowly and very carefully, and I looked
intently to see what it was that h