k of a rifle, his flat, horny tail descended upon the water.

It was a sound which all beavers are taught to obey instantly and
without question. Even as the big cat dropped, Flat Tail dived backward
into the stream. The panther, with a scream of rage, dug its claws into
the earth where its prey had been sitting a moment before. The beaver
was out of reach, however, and there was nothing for the panther to do
but continue on his hungry way, his scream having warned every animal
for miles around to hide. As for Flat Tail, he swam directly to the
lodge where he crouched trembling.

The summer passed, and autumn with its flaming colors and hint of frost
came to the wilderness. On a warm Indian summer day the Hermit, in his
search for healing roots, came out upon the shore of the stream which
sheltered the beaver colony. As he approached he heard a resounding slap
and saw a number of sleek brown forms dive into the water. Thus, when he
stepped out upon the shore, there was not a beaver in sight, though
evidences of their work were all about. The Hermit's eyes had grown keen
and his brain wise in the lore of the wilderness, so that now he knew
beyond a doubt that the colony was busy building the dam higher and
raising the lodges farther above the stream.

"Must be expecting a freshet," he mused.

For some time he waited, concealed in a clump of bushes, hoping to catch
sight of the inhabitants of the pond or perhaps even watch them at
work. His waiting was vain, however, for the bright eyes of the wily
little beasts had penetrated his hiding place and not one ventured forth
until the Hermit gave up in despair and went on his way. Then
immediately the shining face of Ahmeek appeared at the surface and the
pond once more swarmed with activity.

Under Ahmeek's direction the dam was made much higher and the floors of
the lodges were raised above the highest mark which the stream had ever
reached. Then the whole colony turned its attention to providing food
for the winter. Aspen, poplar and willow branches were carried to the
pond where, as they became waterlogged, they sank to the bottom, there
to remain until needed. Lily-pads floating lightly upon the surface of
the pond gave promise of white succulent roots which penetrated the ooze
beneath. Sweet flag was abundant, and close by grew a clump of dark
green, spicy mint.

The warm, hazy days of Indian summer passed. The leaves drifted to the
ground where they spread a rustl