The Young Wireless Operator-As a Fire Patrol Part 20

"I don't know," replied Charley. "But we'll find out what they are doing.

Then we can decide what to do ourselves."

He drew his automatic but as quickly thrust it into his coat pocket, as he remembered what the ranger had told him. But though the pistol was in his pocket, he still grasped it in his hand. The tense look on his face showed plainly enough that he was ready to shoot right through his coat. Lew, observing his companion's movements, followed his example.

Minute after minute the two young forest guards stood silent, listening for the sound of axes or other customary noises that ordinarily accompany lumbering operations. But the morning stillness was undisturbed. A puzzled expression crept over their faces.

"Maybe that tree wasn't cut at all," whispered Lew. "Maybe it just fell of itself."

"We'll find out," replied Charley, and cautiously they began to make their way toward the point whence the sound had come. Sheltering themselves behind trees, they advanced rod after rod. The stillness remained unbroken. The stand of trees grew thinner, with more and more underbrush.

Presently they saw before them an unmistakable clearing in the forest.

Rapidly they advanced, screened by the bushes, until they stood close to the edge of the clearing. Beyond question somebody had been cutting trees.

Over a considerable area the timber had been felled, and whoever had felled it had cut ruthlessly. Hardly a sapling remained in all the cleared area. On every hand trees lay p.r.o.ne. Some had been trimmed and cut into pieces. Some remained exactly as they fell. Everywhere freshly cut stumps told plainly enough what had occurred.

"Somebody's cutting timber all right enough," whispered Charley, "and it's on state land. I wonder where they are. They certainly cut that tree we heard fall, but I haven't heard an axe or a human voice and I don't see any signs of lumbermen."

"Maybe they're at camp eating breakfast. It's still early, you know."

"If they are," said Charley, "then this is the very time to investigate.

We'll look around before anybody gets back."

Glancing once more about the opening to make sure that n.o.body was in sight, they stepped from behind their concealing bushes and started across the open s.p.a.ce. But immediately they came to a dead stop. Like rifle-shots, a succession of sharp sounds rang out, accompanied by splashing noises. The two boys were at first alarmed, then puzzled. They looked at each other in amazement.

"What was that?" asked Lew.

"I don't know," replied Charley. "At first I thought somebody was shooting at us. But I didn't hear any bullets hum. And the noise didn't sound exactly like a gun, either. It was like the noise a fellow makes when he hits the water real hard with a board."

In every direction they scanned the clearing. They saw no living things but the trees. "It's queer," commented Charley. "Let's look at that nearest tree that's down. Maybe we can learn something from it."

They walked over to the tree, then studied it in amazement. "I never saw anything like that before," cried Lew. "I don't believe that was ever cut with an axe. It looks as though it had been gnawed off."

"It has," cried Charley with sudden excitement. "I understand the whole thing now. We've found a colony of beavers. I never saw a live beaver, but I've read about them and seen pictures of their huts and their work, and that looks exactly like the pictures. And those noises like rifle-shots were their alarm signals. They slap the water with their tails when they are frightened and dive under water. I suppose they're all in their lodges now, and we'll never get a peep at them. Gee whiz! Just think of finding beavers, Lew, real beavers. I didn't know there were any in Pennsylvania."

"It seems to me that I read something about the game commission stocking the state with them a few years ago. I think they put a number of them in the state forests. Doubtless they have multiplied in numbers and started new colonies."

"That explains it," said Charley. "Gee! I'm glad we found these fellows.

And I'm just as glad that they aren't timber thieves. You know, Lew, it made me feel kind of queer to think of facing real timber thieves. I didn't like the idea a bit. But I kept thinking about Mr. Morton and what he said about his being blamed if I fell down, and I made up my mind I'd do it, no matter what happened."

They now turned their attention to the felled tree once more, studying the innumerable teeth marks, like so many tiny chisel cuts, on stump and b.u.t.t.

Then they noticed the great chips lying about the stump, some of them half as big as dinner plates.

"It gets me to understand how they can bite out such huge chunks," said Lew, "when their teeth are evidently so small. Why, you'd think an animal would have to have a mouth as big as a hippopotamus to take bites like these."

Charley laughed. "Looks that way, doesn't it?" he said. "But as I remember it, what I read said that the beaver gnaws out parallel rings around the trunk and wrenches out the wood between. It's like sawing two cuts in a board and chiseling out the board between them."

"I see," said Lew. "But I should think they'd break their teeth all to pieces."

"So should I. But they have very strong teeth that grow out as fast as they wear away, and that are as sharp as a chisel. I wouldn't want a beaver to bite me. I'll bet he could bite right through a bone."

"I suppose," said Lew, "they cut these trees to use in making their dam; but what gets me is how they are going to get the trees over to the dam.

It would take a team of horses to drag this trunk. It's fifteen inches in diameter."

"The article I read," said Charley, "stated that as the beaver dams became higher, the land adjacent was flooded and that the beavers made little ca.n.a.ls through the flooded area and floated their logs where they wanted them. You notice that they have gnawed the limbs off of a number of these trees and cut several of the trunks into lengths. I was sure they were sawlogs when I first saw them."

"Well, there isn't enough water here to float a log," said Lew, "though it's mighty wet and it looks as though the water was several inches deep a little farther on. Let's see if we can find a ca.n.a.l."

They stripped off their shoes and stockings, and, rolling up their trousers, began to wade. Very soon they found the water nearly knee-deep.

"There's more water here than there seems to be," admitted Lew. "There's so much marsh-gra.s.s and so many water-plants it fooled me."

Cautiously they waded about. Suddenly Lew plunged forward, and only by grasping a bush did he save himself from getting completely wet. As it was, he found himself standing upright in three feet of water. After he recovered from his surprise, he felt about with his feet.

"This is their ca.n.a.l all right enough," he said. "It's very narrow, but it will float anything that grows in this forest."

He scrambled out and the two boys made their way back to dry ground. "How are you going to get dry?" asked Charley. "I don't want to make a fire unless it is absolutely necessary."

"Never mind about me. I'll dry off soon enough. Let's find their dam."

They made their way toward the run and soon discovered the dam. It was a great pile of branches, stones, moss, gra.s.s, mud, bark, etc., that had been built across the stream and extended for rods on either side. It looked very solid, yet the water did not pour over it, but filtered through it.

"Think of all the work it took to make that," cried Lew. "Why, every stick in it had to be gnawed down and floated here, and all the bark and gra.s.s and roots had to be pulled and brought here and the stones collected. And say! How in the world do you suppose they ever handled those stones? And how do you suppose they ever anch.o.r.ed the stuff when they began building? I should think the current would have swept everything away at first. That's a pretty swift stream."

"I read that they start their dams with saplings, which they anchor across the current with stones. They are much like squirrels, you know, and can use their fore paws about as well as we can use our hands. I suppose the stones lose weight by displacing water, but if I hadn't seen these rocks, I'd never have believed that such big stones could be handled by animals no larger than beavers."

"See here," said Lew. "These willow branches must have taken root, for they seem to be growing right up out of the top of the dam. And there's a birch that's surely growing. You know the branches of some trees will root if you put them in water, especially willows. Why, if they continue to grow and take more root, there'll be a hedge of living trees right across this brook. The dam will become so dense that it will back up a great quant.i.ty of water. I reckon this bottom will just naturally turn into a swamp after a time."

"Now that's interesting," suggested Charley. "You know the Bible tells us the world was made in six days; but it seems to me it isn't finished yet.

Every rain washes down soil from the hills and helps to fill up the valleys and the river-bottoms, and the floods scour out the watercourses and carry earth and stones down to the ocean. And here we see a piece of land that used to be fine, dry bottom, now becoming a swamp. It looks to me as though the earth is changing every day."

They examined the dam more critically. "It's two hundred feet wide if it's an inch," said Lew, "though the brook isn't more than fifteen or twenty.

You see, it extends on each side of the brook to land that is a little higher than the level of the stream bank. That's what makes this big head of water. At the least there are several acres of it."

"There's one thing that we haven't seen yet," added Charley, "and that's their houses. They ought to be some distance above the dam."

"I wonder if those are beaver lodges," said Lew, pointing to some bulky heaps of brush at a little distance up-stream.

"That's exactly what they are. They don't look much like houses, do they?

But I guess they're pretty snug inside. The entrances are deep under water, you know, so that the ice can't clog them in winter, and so that the beavers can get to their food all right."

"What do they eat, Charley? Do you know?"

"Sure. They eat roots, and tender plants, but mostly bark from certain trees. I believe these are willow, poplar, birch, and some others. They cut down the wood in summer and pile it under water in front of their huts and hold it down with stones."

"Well, what do you think of that!" cried Lew.

"They eat a pile of it, too. I don't remember how many trees that article said a colony of beavers would eat in a winter, but I'm sure it was up in the hundreds. I remember how astonished I was when I read about it."

"No wonder they clear the forest so fast. I wonder if we ought to tell Mr.

Marlin. Maybe he doesn't know about these beavers. They might begin to cut down his virgin pines. I'm sure he wouldn't want that to happen."