ting his
traps through the ice, and before long matters were worse than ever. By
spring the few beavers that remained were so thoroughly frightened that
the ancient town was again abandoned--this time forever. The lodges fell
to ruins, the burrows caved in, the dam gave way, the pond and canals
were drained, and that was the end of the city.

Yet not quite the end, after all. The beavers have vanished from their
old habitation, but their work remains in the broad meadows cleared of
timber by their teeth, and covered with rich black soil by the
inundations from their dam. There is an Indian legend which says that
after the Creator separated the land from the water He employed gigantic
beavers to smooth it down and prepare it for the abode of men. However
that may be, the farmers of generations to come will have reason to rise
up and bless those busy little citizens--but I don't suppose they will
ever do it.

One city was gone, but there were two that could claim the honor of
being our Beaver's home at different periods of his life. The first, as
we have already seen, was ancient and historic. The second was
brand-new. Let us see how it had its beginning. The Beaver got married
about the time he left his old home; and this, by the way, is a very
good thing to do when you want to start a new town. Except for his
missing hand, his wife was so like him that it would have puzzled you to
tell which was which. I think it is very likely that she was his twin
sister, but of course that's none of our business. Do you want to know
what they looked like? They measured about three feet six inches from
tip of nose to tip of tail, and they weighed perhaps thirty pounds
apiece. Their bodies were heavy and clumsy, and were covered with thick,
soft, grayish under-fur, which in turn was overlaid with longer hairs of
a glistening chestnut-brown, making a coat that was thoroughly
water-proof as well as very beautiful. Their heads were somewhat like
those of gigantic rats, with small, light-brown eyes, little round ears
covered with hair, and long orange-colored incisors looking out from
between parted lips. One portrait will answer for both of them.

They wandered about for some time, looking for a suitable location, and
examining several spots along the beds of various little rivers, none of
which seemed to be just right. But at last they found, in the very heart
of the wilderness, a place where a shallow stream ran over a hard stony
bot