Noddy and Choko now reached the trail leading up the pine-tipped crest of the mountain back of Pebbly Pit, and were soon climbing through a veritable wilderness of sage-brush and aspens. "My, what a place to live in!" said Eleanor, surprised. "It's not far, now," returned Polly. Shortly after this, Polly turned Noddy from the old trail and plunged into a thicket of aspens. "Good gracious! How can they ever find their own home?" wondered Eleanor, gazing at the closely growing aspen trees. "They know everything! And Noddy knows the way by this time, too, as I like to come here and spend the day. Besides there are blazes on the large trees to guide one." Noddy came out of the aspen grove after a time and then followed a mountain-stream up-trail for half a mile or so, before turning to look at her rider. "Oh, you wise little Noddy. How did you know I wanted to stop here?" laughed Polly, patting the burro affectionately. Noddy flicked back her long ears in approval of such words and petting, but Eleanor's cry made the burro listen intently. "Polly! What a dreadful place to live in! Surely no one exists in this lonesome wilderness, do they?" "Mr. Beaver is clearing away the aspens just as fast as he can, but as soon as they are all cut down, he will move the whole family to some other dense grove, as they live on aspens, you know." "What--what! I didn't understand you!" cried Eleanor. Polly laughed as she pointed to a pond made by a dam crudely built across the stream. It was rough and queer looking, but it answered its purpose very well. Eleanor saw half a dozen conical shaped huts built of mud in a row across the dam, then she stared at both sides of the stream, up and down, but no other habitation could she see. On the opposite bank several large trees had been felled and a quantity of aspens had been cut down and piled in confusion on the edge of the water. "Do your ranchers live near here?" asked she. "I didn't say they were ranchers, Nolla." "Well, woodcutters, or what you call them!" "Yes," laughed Polly, "they are woodcutters and live in those mud huts." "What?" cried Eleanor again. "S-sh! Not so loud or you will frighten them away!" "Polly--impossible! What _do_ you mean anyway?" "The beavers live there until the family grows too large, then they either build another story to the house, or start a new colony where aspens can be had in plenty. As there are so many young aspens here in perfect security, for the beavers, Grandfather Beaver remains here." "Oh, Polly! You mean they are _real beavers_!" gasped Eleanor. "Yes, and I knew you would love to see them at work, but we have to keep very quiet if we want them to come out." "Tell me about them--quick--before we have to go away," begged Eleanor, eagerly. "We won't have to go, but we have to keep quiet. You see they must have been cutting aspens over there, when they heard us coming and so they made a dive for safety. They are now hiding in the huts."