every beaver in the colony was
out among the swirling ice, under the broad, white moonlight which they
had not seen for so long.

It was at its very centre, where the channel was deepest and the thrust
of the water most violent, that the dam had given way. The break was
about ten feet wide, and not, as yet, of any great depth. It was the
comparatively narrow and unsubstantial crust of the embankment which had
yielded, disintegrated by the thaw and ripped by the broken edges of the
ice.

The vehemence of the torrent was rapidly cutting down into the firmer
body of the dam, when the beavers flung themselves valiantly into the
breach. In the face of the common danger they forgot all caution, and
gave no heed to any hungry eyes that might be glaring at them from the
woods on either shore. Without any apparent leadership in the work,
they all seemed to help each other in whatever way would be most
effective. Some dragged up the longest and heaviest poles from the pile
of stripped stuff, floated them carefully into the break, butt end
up-stream and parallel with the flow, and held them there doggedly with
their teeth and fore paws till others could come with more timbers to
hold the first lot down. Meanwhile, from the soft bottom along the base
of the dam, big lumps of mingled clay and grass-roots, together with
small stones to add weight, were grabbed up and heaped solidly upon the
layers of sticks for anchorage. This loose stuff, though deposited along
the upper ends of the sticks where the flow was least violent, and
swiftly packed down into the interstices, was mostly washed away in the
process. It was seemingly an even struggle, for a time, and the beavers
could do no more than hold the breach from deepening and widening. But
they were quite undaunted; and they seemed to know no such thing as
fatigue. Little by little they gained upon the torrent, making good the
hold of a mass of turf here, a few stones there, and everywhere the long
straight sticks upon which the water could get but slight grip. The
flood grew shallower and less destructive. More sticks were brought,
more stones, and clay, and grass-roots; and then a layer of heavy, clean
poles, over which the water slid thinly and smoothly without danger to
the structure beneath.

The dam was now strongest at this point, its crest being broader and
formed of heavier timbers than elsewhere. But no sooner had the hard-won
victory been secured, and the plucky little