man lingered for some time, he caught no
further glimpse of the pond's interesting inhabitants.

The winter was extremely cold. Many smaller streams and ponds froze
solid, though the depth of the beaver pond prevented this calamity. When
spring came at last and the ice broke up, the water began to rise.
Higher and higher it came, fed by the melting ice and snow toward its
source. The homes of the muskrats, some distance farther upstream, were
flooded, many of the occupants being drowned and others driven for
refuge to higher ground. The beavers had no fear, however, for old
Ahmeek had prepared for just such an emergency.

Still the water rose. It reached and passed the highest mark that it had
attained for many years. And then came the big freshet. The streams
became torrents, hurling great masses of driftwood and even trees before
them. Constant vigilance on the part of the beavers was required to
keep the dam from washing away. When a drifting log or mass of brush
caught, and threatened to wreck their hope, the entire colony turned out
and literally "worked like beavers" tearing away the obstruction and
allowing it to slide on down stream. Each small leak was found and
mended before it had become large enough to be dangerous.

The water rose within an inch of the floor of the lodges. The Hermit,
remembering the beavers and concerned for their safety, made another
trip to the pond, noting with anxious eye, long before he reached it,
the havoc wrought on every hand by the freshet. It was with a distinct
sense of relief that he found the dam still intact and the domes of the
lodges still above the water. He paused at some distance from the bank
and watched the beavers as they went about their repairs without a
thought for his presence. And he marveled anew at their skill and
forethought.

Still the water rose, spreading out into a vast lake and reaching to the
floor of the lodges. Now the beavers became alarmed and watched
anxiously. For if the stream rose higher, the dam must go and the lodges
be flooded. The crest had been reached, however, and the flood came no
higher. Instead it began to recede, vanishing as rapidly as it had come.
It left the low ground around the beaver pond a mass of sticky mud and
tangled wreckage.

The flood was followed by the opposite extreme and the water fell until
it threatened to expose the entrance to the lodges. In that event
nothing could have saved the beavers from their enemies.