As the
beaver eats only bark--the white inner layer of "popple" bark is
his chief dainty--he cannot understand and cannot tolerate this
barbarian, who eats raw fish and leaves the bones and fins and
the smell of slime in his doorway. The beaver is exemplary in his
neatness, detesting all smells and filth; and this may possibly
account for some of his enmity and his savage attacks upon
Keeonekh when he catches him in a good place.
Not the least interesting of Keeonekh's queer ways is his habit
of sliding down hill, which makes a bond of sympathy and brings
him close to the boyhood memories of those who know him.
I remember one pair of otters that I watched for the better part
of a sunny afternoon sliding down a clay bank with endless
delight. The slide had been made, with much care evidently, on
the steep side of a little promontory that jutted into the river.
It was very steep, about twenty feet high, and had been made
perfectly smooth by much sliding and wetting-down. An otter would
appear at the top of the bank, throw himself forward on his belly
and shoot downward like a flash, diving deep under water and
reappearing some distance out from the foot of the slide. And all
this with marvelous stillness, as if the very woods had ears and
were listening to betray the shy creatures at their fun.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68