The Tale of Brownie Beaver by Arthur Scott Bailey
Produced by Phil McLaury, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franksand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
Mr. Frog Had Been Hiding Among the Lily-pads]
THE TALE OF BROWNIE BEAVER
BY
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
CONTENTS
I A QUEER PLACE TO LIVE
II HOW TO FELL A TREE
III STICKS AND MUD
IV THE FRESHET
V BROWNIE SAVES THE DAM
VI A HAPPY THOUGHT
VII A NEWFANGLED NEWSPAPER
VIII MR. CROW IS UPSET
IX THE SIGN ON THE TREE
X A HOLIDAY
XI BAD NEWS
XII GRANDADDY BEAVER THINKS
XIII A LUCKY FIND
XIV WAS IT A GUN?
XV JASPER JAY'S STORY
XVI LOOKING PLEASANT
XVII BROWNIE ESCAPES
XVIII MR. FROG'S QUESTION
XIX THE NEW SUIT
I
A QUEER PLACE TO LIVE
The village near one end of Pleasant Valley where Farmer Green oftenwent to sell butter and eggs was not the only village to be seen fromBlue Mountain. There was another which Farmer Green seldom visited,because it lay beyond the mountain and was a long distance from hishouse. Though he owned the land where it stood, those that lived therethought they had every right to stay there as long as they pleased,without being disturbed.
It was in this village that Brownie Beaver and his neighbors lived. Itwas a different sort of town, too, from the one where Farmer Greenwent each week. Over beyond Blue Mountain all the houses were built ina pond. And all their doors were under water. But nobody minded thatbecause--like Brownie Beaver--everybody that dwelt there was a fineswimmer.
Years and years before Brownie's time his forefathers had come there,and finding that there were many trees in the neighborhood with thesort of bark they liked to eat--such as poplars, willows and boxelders--they had decided that it was a good place to live. There was asmall stream, too, which was really the beginning of Swift River. Andby damming it those old settlers made a pond in which they could buildtheir houses.
They had ideas of their own as to what a house should be like--andvery good ideas they were--though you, perhaps, might not care forthem at all. They wanted their houses to be surrounded by water,because they thought they were safer when built in that manner. Andthey always insisted that a door leading into a house should be farbeneath the surface of the water, for they believed that that made ahouse safer too.
To you such an idea may seem very strange. But if you were chased byan enemy you might be glad to be able to swim under water, down to thebottom of a pond, and slip inside a door which led to a winding hall,which in its turn led upwards into your house.
Of course, your enemy might be able to swim as well as you. But maybehe would think twice--or even three times--before he went prowlingthrough your crooked hall. For if you had enormous, strong, sharpteeth--with which you could gnaw right through a tree--he would notcare to have you seize him as he poked his head around a corner in adark passage of a strange house.
It was in a house of that kind that Brownie Beaver lived. And he builtit himself, because he said he would rather have a neat, new housethan one of the big, old dwellings that had been built many yearsbefore, when his great-great-grandfather had helped throw the damacross the stream.
The dam was there still. It was so old that trees were growing on it.And there was an odd thing about it: it was never finished. ThoughBrownie Beaver was a young chap, he worked on the dam sometimes, likeall his neighbors. You see, the villagers kept making the dam wider.And since it was built of sticks and mud, the water sometimes washedbits of it away: so it had to be kept in repair.
If Brownie Beaver and his friends had neglected their dam, they wouldhave waked up some day and found that their pond was empty; andwithout any water to hide their doorways they would have been safe nolonger.
They would have had no place, either, to store their winter's food.For they were in the habit of cutting down trees and saving the barkand branches too, in order to have plenty to eat when cold weathercame and the ice closed their pond.
Some of their food they carried into their houses through a straighthall which was made for that very purpose. And some of the branchesthey fastened under water, near the dam. It was just like puttinggreen things into a refrigerator, so they will keep.
Now you see why Brownie Beaver would no more have thought of buildinghis house on dry land than you would think of building one in a pond.Everybody likes his own way best. And it never once occurred toBrownie Beaver that his way was the least bit strange.
Perhaps it was because his family had always lived in that fashion.
II
HOW TO FELL A TREE
Brownie Beaver could do many things that other forest-people (excepthis own relations) were not able to do at all. For instance, cuttingdown a tree was something that nobody but one of the Beaver familywould think of attempting. But as for Brownie Beaver--if he ever saw atree that he wanted to cut down he set to work at once, without evengoing home to get any tools. And the reason for that was that healways had his tools with him. For strange as it may seem, he used histeeth to do all his wood-cutting.
The first thing to be done when you set out to fell a tree with yourteeth is to strip off the bark around the bottom of the trunk, so thata white band encircles it. At least, that was the way Brownie Beaveralways began. And no doubt he knew what he was about.
After he had removed the band of bark Brownie began to gnaw away chipsof wood, where the white showed. And as he gnawed, he slowly sidledround and round the tree, until at last only the heart of the tree wasleft to keep the tree from toppling over.
Then Brownie Beaver would stop his gnawing and look all about, to pickout a place where he wanted the tree to fall. And as soon as Browniehad made up his mind about that, he quickly gnawed a few more chipsout of the heart of the tree on the side toward the spot where heintended it to come toppling down upon the ground.
Brownie Beaver would not have to gnaw long before the tree would beginto lean. All the time it leaned more and more. And the further over itsagged, the faster it tipped. Luckily, Brownie Beaver always knew justthe right moment to jump out of the way before the tree fell.
If you had ever seen him you might have thought he was frightened,because he never failed to run away and hide as the tree crashed downwith a sound almost like thunder.
But Brownie was not at all frightened. He was merely careful. Knowingwhat a loud noise the falling tree would make, and that it might leada man (or some other enemy) to come prowling around, to see what hadhappened, Brownie used to stay hidden until he felt quite sure that noone was going to trouble him.
You can understand that waiting, as he did, was no easy matter whenyou stop to remember that one of Brownie's reasons for cutting down atree was that he wanted to eat the tender bark to be found in thetree-top. It was exactly like knowing your dinner was on the table,all ready for you, and having to hide in some dark corner for half anhour, before going into the dining-room. You know how hungry you wouldget, if you had to do that.
Well, Brownie Beaver used to get just as hungry as any little boy orgirl. How he did tear at the bark, when he finally began to eat! Andhow full he stuffed his mouth! And how he did enjoy his meal! Buteverybody will admit that he had a right to enjoy his dinner, for hecertainly worked hard enough to get it.
III
STICKS AND MUD
Like the dam that held back the water to form the pond where BrownieBeaver lived, Brownie's house was made of sticks and mud. He cut thesticks himself, from trees that grew near the bank of the pond; andafter dragging and pushing them
He had chosen that spot in the center of the pond because there wassomething a good deal like an island there--only it did not rise quiteout of the water. A good, firm place on which to set hishouse--Brownie Beaver considered it.
While he was building his house Brownie gathered his winter's food atthe same time. Anyone might think he would have found it difficult todo two things at once like that. But while he was cutting sticks tobuild his new house it was no great trouble to peel the bark off them.The bark, you know, was what Brownie Beaver always ate. And when hecut sticks for his house there was only one thing about which he hadto be careful; he had to be particular to use only certain kinds ofwood. Poplar, cottonwood, or willow; birch, elm, box elder oraspen--those were the trees which bore bark that he liked. But if hehad cut down a hickory or an ash or an oak tree he wouldn't have beenable to get any food from them at all because the bark was not thesort he cared for. That was lucky, in a way, because the wood of thosetrees was very hard and Brownie would have had much more work cuttingthem down.
A good many of Brownie Beaver's neighbors thought he was foolish to goto the trouble of building a new house, when there were old ones to behad. And there was a lazy fellow called Tired Tim who laughed openlyat Brownie.
"When you're older you'll know better than to work like that," TiredTim told him. "Why don't you do the way I did?" he asked. "I dug atunnel in the bank of the pond; and it's a good enough house foranybody. It's much easier than building a house of sticks and mud."
But Brownie told Tired Tim that he didn't care to live in a hole inthe bank.
"Nobody but a very lazy person would be willing to have a house likethat," Brownie said.
Tired Tim only laughed all the harder.
"Old Grandaddy Beaver has been talking to you," he remarked. "I sawhim taking you over to the dam day before yesterday and telling youwhere to work on it. Of course, that's all right if you're willing towork for the whole village. But I say, let others do the work! As forme, I've never put a single stick nor a single armful of mud on thatdam; and what's more, I never intend to, either.
"My tunnel in the bank suits me very well. Of course, it may not be soairy in summer as a house such as you're making for yourself. But Idon't live in my house in summer. So what's the difference to me? Insummer I go up the stream, or down--just as it suits me--and I seesomething of the world and have a fine time. There's nothing liketravel, you know, to broaden one," said Tired Tim.
Brownie Beaver stopped just a moment and looked at the lazy fellow. Hewas certainly broad enough, Brownie thought. He was so fat that hissides stuck far out. But it was no wonder--for he never did any work.
"You'd better take my advice," Tired Tim told Brownie.
But Brownie Beaver had returned to his wood-cutting. He didn't evenstop to answer. To him, working was just fun. And building a finehouse was as good as any game.
IV
THE FRESHET
The rain had fallen steadily for two days and two nights-not just agentle drizzle, but a heavy downpour.
For some time it did not in the least disturb Brownie Beaver and hisneighbors--that is to say, all but one of them. For there was a veryold gentleman in the village known as Grandaddy Beaver who began toworry almost as soon as it began to rain.
"We're a-going to have a freshet," he said to everybody he met. "I'veseen 'em start many a time and I can always tell a freshet almost assoon as I see it coming."
Grandaddy Beaver's friends paid no heed to his warning. And some ofthem were so unkind as to laugh when the old gentleman crawled on topof his house and began to mend it.
"You young folks can poke fun at me if you want to," said GrandaddyBeaver, "but I'm a-going right ahead and make my house as strong as Ican. For when the freshet gets here I don't want my home washed away."
All day long people would stop to watch the old fellow at work uponhis roof. And everybody thought it was a great joke--until the secondday came and everybody noticed that it was raining just as hard asever.
But no one except Grandaddy Beaver had ever heard of a freshet at thattime of year. So even then nobody else went to work on his house,though some people _did_ stop smiling. A freshet, you know, is aserious thing.
As the second day passed, the rain seemed to fall harder. And stillGrandaddy Beaver kept putting new sticks on the roof of his house andplastering mud over them. And at last Brownie Beaver began to thinkthat perhaps the old gentleman was right, after all, and that maybeeverybody else was wrong.
So Brownie went home and set to work. And all his neighbors at oncebegan to smile at him.
But Brownie Beaver didn't mind that.
"My roof needed mending, anyhow," he said. "And if we _should_have a freshet. I'll be ready for it. And if we don't have one,there'll be no harm done."
Mr. Crow Called Down the Chimney]
Now, all this time the water had been rising slowly. But that was nomore than everyone expected, since it was raining so hard. But whenthe second night came, the water began to rise very fast. It rose soquickly that several families found their bedroom floors under wateralmost before they knew it.
Then old Grandaddy Beaver went through the village and stopped atevery door.
"What do you think about it now?" he asked. "Is it a freshet or isn'tit?"
In the houses where the water had climbed above the bedroom floors thepeople all agreed that it was a freshet and that Grandaddy Beaver hadbeen right all the time. But there were still plenty of people whothought the old gentleman was mistaken.
"The water won't come any higher," they said. "It never has, at thistime of year." But they looked a bit worried, in spite of what theysaid.
"It's a-going to be the worst freshet that's happened since you wereborn," their caller croaked. "You mark my words!"
When he came to Brownie Beaver's house Grandaddy found that there wasone person, at least, that had taken his advice.
"I see you're all ready for the freshet!" the old gentleman remarked."They laughed at me; but I was right," he said.
"They laughed at me, too," Brownie Beaver told him.
"There's nobody in this village that'll laugh again tonight,"Grandaddy said very solemnly, "for there's a-going to be a floodbefore morning."
V
BROWNIE SAVES THE DAM
Brownie Beaver was always glad that he had taken Grandaddy's adviceabout the freshet. And Brownie's neighbors were glad that he had, too.For that was really the only thing that saved the village from beingcarried away by the flood of water that swept down upon the pond,after it had rained for two days and two nights.
The pond rose so quickly and the water rushed past so fast that peoplehad to scramble out of their houses and begin working on them, to keepthem from being washed away.
That rush of water meant only one thing. The pond was full and runningover! And just as likely as not the dam would be carried away--the damon which Grandaddy Beaver had worked when he was a youngster, and onwhich his own grandaddy had worked before him. It would take years andyears to build another such dam as that.
Now, with almost everybody working on his own house, there was almostno one left to work upon the dam. But people never stopped to thinkabout that. They never once remembered that out of the whole villageold Grandaddy and Brownie Beaver were the only persons whose houseshad been made ready for the freshet and that those two were the onlypeople with nothing to do at home.
"There'll be plenty to help save the dam," everybody said to himself."I'll just work on my house."
Now, Brownie Beaver knew that there was nothing more he could do tomake his house safe, so he swam over to the dam, expecting to find agood many of his neighbors there. But old Grandaddy Beaver was theonly other person he found. And he seemed worried.
"It's a great pity!" he said to
"What makes you think that?" asked Brownie.
"There's nobody here to do anything," said Grandaddy Beaver. "Thespillways of this dam ought to be made as big as possible, to let thefreshet pass through. But I can't do it, for I can't swim as well as Icould once."
Brownie Beaver looked at the rushing water which poured over the topof the dam in a hundred places and was already carrying off mud andsticks, eating the dam away before his very eyes.
"I'll save the dam!" he cried. "You?" Grandaddy Beaver exclaimed."Why, what do you think you can do?" Being so old, he couldn't helpbelieving that other people were too young to do difficult things.
"Watch me and I'll show you!" Brownie Beaver told him. And withoutsaying another word he swam to the nearest spillway and began makingit bigger.
Sometimes he had to fight the freshet madly, to keep from being sweptover the dam himself. Sometimes, too, as he stood on the dam itcrumbled beneath him and he found himself swimming again.
How many narrow escapes he had that day Brownie Beaver could neverremember. When they happened, he didn't have time to count them, hewas working so busily. And if old Grandaddy Beaver hadn't toldeveryone afterward, how Brownie saved the great dam from being sweptaway, and how hard he had worked, and how he had swum fearlessly intothe torrent, people wouldn't have known anything about it.
To be sure, they had noticed that the water went down almost assuddenly as it rose. But they hadn't stopped to think that there musthave been some reason for that. And when they learned that BrownieBeaver was the reason, the whole village gave him a vote of thanks.