CHAPTER XIITOTO IN A STORM
Sniffy, the other little beaver boy, who was plastering up a hole in the dam with some mud, was so surprised at hearing Toto call that for a moment he did not answer. Then, when he had looked up and had seen his brother walking toward him, Sniffy cried:
“Is it really you, Toto? Have you come back to us? Where have you been and what happened to you?”
“Well, I really have come back, as you can see,” answered Toto. “And as for where I have been and what happened to me, it will take a long time to tell. I have had many adventures, but perhaps the most strange of all was when Tum Tum broke open the cage where I was held on the houseboat and set me free.”
“Who is Tum Tum?” asked Sniffy. “Is he a beaver?”
“Tum Tum is a jolly elephant, and he lives in a circus,” said Toto. “He’s in a book, too, and he said maybe a man might put me in a book.”
Sniffy sat down on his tail.
“I do declare, Toto!” exclaimed the little stay-at-home beaver, “since you went away you use so many strange words that I don’t know what you are talking about. Adventures, book, circus, Tum Tum, and the like of that! Goodness, but you must know a lot!”
“Oh, not so very much,” answered Toto. “I didn’t know enough to keep out of a trap.”
“Is that how you were caught?” asked Sniffy. “In a trap?”
“That’s just how,” answered Toto. “I ate a piece of apple, as Slicko must have told you, and was caught. But come on, I want to see my father and mother, and Cuppy and Dumple and all the rest.”
“Yes, and I guess they’ll be glad to see you!” said Sniffy.
And you may be sure the other beavers were glad to see Toto again. He had to tell them all about his adventures, and how he met Slicko, the squirrel, and Tum Tum, the elephant, and also what he heard about Tamba, the tame tiger, and Nero, the circus lion.
“Did anything happen after I was away?” asked Toto.
“Not very much,” answered his father. “We had one storm and the dam was broken a little. We are mending it now.”
“Yes, and I think we are going to have another storm,” said Cuppy. “We must hurry and cut down more trees to make the dam stronger. We must be busy, bustling beavers for a time now.”
So, almost as soon as he had returned home, Toto had to go to work. But he liked it. In fact beavers like work more than any other animal in the world, I think.
“Did you see anything of the tramps while I was gone?” asked Toto of his brother one day, when they were off in the woods, gathering bark for supper.
“No, I haven’t seen them,” Sniffy replied. “Have you?”
“Yes, on my way back home,” Toto answered. “They were talking loud in the woods, but they didn’t see me. I guess they don’t live around here.”
It was a day or so after this when Toto was off among the poplar trees, getting some bark for himself and some for his mother, that he heard talking among the bushes.
“Maybe the tramps are here again!” thought Toto, crouching down among the leaves. Then, as he peered out, with only his head showing, the little beaver boy saw a lady and a little girl walking in the woods.
“Do you think we’ll ever find that box of jewelry, Grandmother?” asked the little girl.
“I’m afraid we never shall,” was the answer.
“Well, you know Bobbie said, when he chased after the tramps, that they ran to the woods. Maybe they dropped the box of jewelry, with my bracelet, somewhere among the trees. Or maybe they hid it.”
“I hardly think so, Millie,” answered her grandmother. “Since you first told me that I have been looking among the trees, but I have not found even so much as a tiny ring—one I used to wear when I was a little girl. I guess my box is gone forever.”
Then the little girl and her grandmother walked on.
When Toto went back to the dam that afternoon he found all the beavers very busy. His father, his mother, Sniffy, Dumple and all the rest were cutting down trees, and Cuppy was hurrying here, there, and everywhere, keeping watch of the work.
“What’s the matter?” asked Toto. “Are the bad tramps coming?”
“No, but a storm is coming,” answered Cuppy, “and it may rain hard and make our pond so deep that the water will wash away our dam. So we are making the dam stronger. You must help too, Toto.”
Toto was very glad to do his share of the work, and soon he and Sniffy were together gnawingdown a big tree. All the afternoon the beavers worked at making their dam stronger. As the sun began to go down the wind blew harder and the sky was black with clouds. Cuppy banged his tail on the ground, and all the other beavers stopped work to see what the matter was.
“Stop gnawing trees, everybody!” called Cuppy. “Don’t gnaw any more. Finish those you have started, and then we will stop work.”
“Why?” asked Toto. “We can see to gnaw in the dark almost as well as in daylight.”
“Yes, I know,” answered Cuppy. “But there is a big wind storm coming. If a tree is half gnawed through it may blow over before you know it and hurt you. Whole trees, which we have not bitten into, will not so easily blow over. So finish what you are doing, my friends, and then do not gnaw any more until after the storm.”
Every one did as Cuppy said, for he was the oldest and wisest beaver of them all, and when darkness came the last of the half-gnawed trees was cut through, and Toto and all the rest went to their houses.
In the night the storm came. My, how the wind did blow! But there was not much rain, and the beavers were glad of that, for their dam was safe.
In the morning the wind was still blowing very hard, and Cuppy, who looked out, said:
A tree had fallen on Toto’s back, pinning him to the ground.
A tree had fallen on Toto’s back, pinning him to the ground.
“No tree cutting to-day!”
So the beavers had a sort of holiday, and, after he had eaten his breakfast, Toto went for a walk in the woods. He did not mind the rain nor the wind, and he was going to be very careful about traps.
The little beaver boy was walking along, thinking of his many adventures and wishing he could see Tum Tum the jolly elephant again, when, all at once, there came a strong puff of wind, there was a crashing sound, and Toto suddenly felt himself held fast.
“Dear me, I’m in a trap again!” said the poor little beaver, as he noticed something pressing heavily on his back. “But I didn’t see any apple, or anything like that.”
Then he looked around him, turning as well as he was able, and he found out he was not in a trap set by a man. But he was in almost as bad a plight.
Fora treein the woods had been blown over in the storm andhad fallen on Toto’s back, pinning him down to the ground.
Twist and turn as he did, he could not get loose. His tail was caught, too, so he could not pound with it and call the other beavers to his aid. Poor Toto did not know what to do.
“This is worse than being in a man-trap,” he said. “No boy will come to take me out for apet now. Oh, if only Tum Tum were here he could lift this heavy tree off my back!”
But no Tum Tum came. Toto was held down by the tree, but he was in no pain. He couldn’t get loose; that was all. And there he had to stay, alone in the woods, with the wind blowing all about him.
But, after a while, the storm passed. The rain stopped, the sun came out, and the wind died away. Still poor Toto was held fast, and he could not wiggle loose.
As he was held there, thinking of many things, and sadly wondering if he would ever see his home again, he heard a crackling of wood, as if some one were walking among the trees.
“Oh, maybe it is Tum Tum come to save me again!” thought Toto, not knowing that circuses never come to the forest, but show only in towns and cities. “Maybe it is Tum Tum!”
But no jolly elephant came. Instead Toto heard voices talking, but the voices were gentle, and not the rough ones of the tramps.
“Oh, look, Grandma!” cried the little Millie. “There is a tree blown down.”
“Yes, it was a terrible storm,” said the old lady.
“And, oh, Grandma! Look!” cried Millie. “There is a little brown puppy dog caught under this tree!”
“That is not a puppy dog—it is a beaver,”said the old lady. “I heard there was a colony of them in these woods, but this is the first one I have seen. Beavers are very shy animals.”
“Oh, but Grandma! do you think we could save this little one that is caught under the tree?” asked Millie, who had come to walk in the woods with her grandmother after the storm. “Maybe he isn’t hurt much and I could take him home for a pet. He’s like the little beaver that helped find my skate. Maybe it’s the same one.”
“Well, we can try to see if we can lift the tree off his back,” said the old lady. “If we both take hold I think we can raise it.”
Millie and her grandmother took hold of the fallen tree. Once, twice, three times they pulled at it, and finally they lifted it off Toto’s back. As soon as the little beaver boy found himself free he ran away as fast as he could.
“Oh, there he goes!” cried Millie, much disappointed.
“Yes, I didn’t think you could get him,” said her grandmother. “Beavers are too shy to make good pets. You would have to keep this one in a cage all the while, I’m afraid. It is better that he should live free in the woods.”
If Toto had been a dog or a cat he might have stayed to thank, in his own way, Millie and her grandmother for having saved him. But being a shy beaver all he wanted to do was to get away.
But though beavers are shy they, like most animals, are curious. They like to see what is going on. So when Toto had run off a little way among the trees he stopped, crouched down among the leaves, and looked back.
He saw something very curious, though he did not quite know what it meant. Millie and her grandmother went close to the broken stump of the tree that had blown over on Toto.
“This tree was hollow and rotten—that is why it toppled over so easily,” said the old lady. “Look, Millie, there is quite a hole down inside this stump.”
“Did the little beaver have his nest there?” asked Millie.
“No, beavers always live near water,” answered the old lady. “But perhaps a squirrel had a nest here, though I hardly think so, for they like to live higher up in trees, out of danger.”
The little girl put her hand and arm down in the hollow stump. As she did so she uttered a cry of surprise.
“Did you find a squirrel, after all?” asked her grandmother.
“No, but look what I found!” cried the little girl. “It’s a box, Grandmother. A box and—”
“Why—why, it’s my box of jewelry!” exclaimed the old lady. “Oh, it’s my box of jewelry that the tramps took! They must have hidden it inthe hollow tree, and then either forgotten about it, or they couldn’t find it again. But here it is. The storm blew the tree over, and we came along and found it.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” cried Millie. “Is my bracelet in there, Grandma?”
The old lady opened the box, took out a pretty gold bracelet and gave it to Millie. The little girl looked happy.
“All my jewelry is here,” said the grandmother. “The tramps must have been in such a hurry that they didn’t have time to take out a single piece. Oh, how happy I am!”
“So am I!” said Millie, and her bracelet sparkled in the sun.
Toto looked at the girl and her grandmother. He did not know the share he had had in helping them find the jewel box. For if the tree had not fallen on him Millie and Mrs. Norman might not have stopped to lift it off, and if they had not done that they would not have found the box.
“Well, I guess I had better go home,” said the little beaver boy to himself. “Another tree might fall on me.”
So back to the dam he went, and there he told Sniffy and the others what had happened to him, though of course Toto knew nothing about bracelets, jewelry and things like that.
“It seems to me you have lots of adventures,”said Sniffy to Toto that night. “You have had almost as many as Tamba, the tiger, or Tum Tum, the elephant. Maybe you’ll be in a book, Toto.”
“Oh, I hardly think so,” answered the beaver boy.
But you can see, for yourself, that he is.
And that night, as Millie petted Don, the dog, who came over with her cousin who lived near by, and with Bobbie, the boy who had chased the tramps, the little girl was very happy because she had her bracelet. And the grandmother was happy, too. And Blackie, the cat, was happy also, when her little girl mistress petted her.
And back in the beaver house, in the waters of the pond behind the dam, Toto was likewise happy, as he gnawed some sweet poplar bark.
Toto had many more adventures after that, but none of them quite as exciting as the ones I have written about here. And now let us say good-bye to the little beaver boy.
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes:Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.