STORY III

NOODLE BUILDS A DAM

Toodle Flat-tail, the little beaver boy, was so lame and sore from having been caught under the tree he was gnawing down, as I told you in the story before this, that the day afterward he could not leave the house in the pond to go out and play.

"Cutting down trees is more dangerous than I thought it was," said Toodle when Dr. Possum came to put some sassafras liniment on his sore places.

"Indeed it is," said Dr. Possum. "I can climb trees very well, and hang on by my tail, but I never tried cutting one down. I don't believe I could do it. Though often I have heard of hunters, who when they are after friends of mine, cut down trees to get them out."

"How dreadful!" exclaimed Mrs. Flat-tail who was baking some apple-bread for dinner. "But, Dr. Possum, do you think Toodle will have to stay in the house long?"

"Well, maybe two or three days more," said the old gentleman doctor.

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Flat-tail, the beaver lady. "Boys are so troublesome when they are in the house!"

And I guess this is so. Anyhow Noodle, who was the brother of Toodle, stayed in to play with him, and the two of them frisked around and got up all sorts of games, and nearly upset the piano and did all things like that. At least Noodle did, for Toodle was too sore and stiff to do much. But Noodle was trying to amuse his sick brother you see, and really he did not mean to make trouble.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Dr. Possum, as he closed up his birch bark satchel filled with all sorts of colored medicines. "On my way back home I'll stop and tell Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, to come over and take care of Toodle. Then Noodle can go out and play, and your house will be quiet, Mrs. Flat-tail."

"Oh, that will be fine!" exclaimed the beaver lady, and Toodle said the same thing.

Noodle said he would be very glad to go out and play, for though he did not much mind staying in the house to amuse his brother, still he would much rather have gone out, to swim around in the pond, play on top of the big dam, that made the beaver pond, or even cut down a little tree so he could gnaw the green, sweet bark.

So Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy came from Uncle Wiggily's hollow stump bungalow, and she read stories to Toodle and told him how she could swim under water, almost as well as the beavers could, and how she could make a fiddle out of a cornstalk and play a tune on it. And she did, and it was such a nice, sleepy sort of tune, all about going to by-low land, that, before he knew it, Toodle was fast, fast asleep, and the house was quiet.

But what happened to Noodle? Ah, ha! We must find out about that before we go much further. For Noodle had made up his mind to do something, and when he did that something almost always happened.

As Noodle did not have to stay in the house any more to play with his little sick brother, he dived down through the front door, which was under water, so no bad animals could get in, and out the little beaver boy swam into the pond. This pond was made by a big dam being built across the lower end, to keep the water from running away, as I have told you, and in this pond were many beaver houses, built of sticks, mud, grass, stones and pieces of trees.

On the dam, which was wide enough on the top for several beavers to walk, there were a number of the animal folk talking, laughing and doing different things.

Some were gnawing pieces of tender bark, which they had stripped off the aspen or willow trees. Others were carrying in their front paws mud or sticks to mend holes in the roofs of their houses. Some beaver children were playing tag and pushing each other into the water.

"I wish I could make a dam," thought Noodle. "I would like to make a little one and have a pond of water all to myself. Then I'd build a house in it, and when Toodle gets well he and I can have lots of fun in it. I think that's what I'll do. I'll build a dam and have a toy beaver pond just for us boys."

The more Noodle thought of this the better he liked it, so he swam off up the big pond until he came to a place in the woods where a little brook ran along over the green stones, singing a pretty song all to itself.

"Here is where I will make my dam," said Noodle.

He remembered how his papa had told him to do it—to cut down little trees, pile them across the brook, then how to pile sticks and stones and mud and grass against the trees until the water could not trickle through. Then it would stop running and there would be a pond, just as the children make one in the gutter after a rain storm.

Noodle was soon a very busy little beaver boy. But he was careful only to gnaw down small trees, so that even if they fell on him before he could get out of the way he would not be caught or hurt, as his brother had been. Soon he had quite a pile of wood, and then, pulling it in his strong teeth or paws, he piled it across the brook. Then he carried sticks and stones and grass until he had made a fine little dam.

Of course it wasn't as large as the big dam, nor made so well, but really it was quite good for a small beaver boy, and Noodle was quite proud of it. The water back of the dam got deeper, and soon there was enough of it for Noodle to swim in. And how he could swim!

He could dive, and float on his back, and stay under water so long that it is a wonder how he could hold his breath. With his strong hind paws, and sometimes by using his tail like the propeller on a steamboat, Noodle went back and forth across the pond he had made by building the dam.

"Now I'll begin the play-house," thought the little beaver boy. "I can't finish it today, but when Toodle gets well he can help me."

So Noodle began. He gathered a lot of sticks and pushed them down in the mud of his pond. Then he got more and arranged them around in a pile, plastering them with mud he dug up from the bottom, under the water. This mud he carried in his front paws, walking on his hind ones like a bear in the circus.

Soon the play-house began to look almost like the real ones beavers make. And while Noodle was taking a rest and glancing from side to side to see that there was no danger, all of a sudden, out from the woods sprang a bad old fox. He made a run for Noodle, and almost caught him, but the little beaver boy, thudding on the ground with his tail, to warn others who might be near of the danger, gave a jump into the water and dived down under it.

"I'll fool that fox!" thought Noodle. "I'll just swim along and stay under water until he goes away."

So he stayed under, but after a while he wanted to get some air to breathe, and of course he had to come up. And, as it happened, he came up near shore where the fox was waiting for him.

"Ah ha! I have you!" cried the fox, and he made a grab for Noodle. But Noodle dived under water again. The fox didn't dare go in water, you know, for he couldn't swim as well as Noodle.

"I fooled him again," thought the little beaver boy. "I guess he must be gone by this time, and I can come out." Noodle had to come up for another breath of air, but no sooner was his nose out of the water than the fox, who had been watching, made another grab for him, and Noodle only got a sniff of air.

"No you don't get me!" cried Noodle, and down he went again. But he was getting tired, and out of breath, and I don't know what would have happened if Grandpa Whackum, the old gentleman beaver, hadn't come along just then. He saw what the trouble was, and the danger Noodle was in. So Grandpa Whackum gathered up a big ball of mud on the end of his tail, and, when that fox was making another grab for Noodle, Grandpa Whackum threw the mud in the eyes of the fox.

"Oh, wow!" cried the fox, and then he couldn't see (not even with his glasses on) to bite Noodle, so the little beaver boy got safely away, and so did Grandpa Whackum, and all the fox had to eat that day was peanut shells. But it served him right, I think.

So that's how Noodle built a dam, and what happened afterward, and next, in case the man in the moon doesn't come down and take my straw hat to play ball with, I'll tell you about Toodle and Noodle in the canal.