He dug and ate beetles, ants, grubs from among the grass roots, found a stale mouse, claimed grubs from alongside a stump, and consumed a whole cluster of caterpillars. Then he started toddling across the open. Here he specialized on grasshoppers. Commonly he caught these with a forepaw. At other times with two forepaws or his teeth. He did not appear to suspect any danger and did not pause to look around. No other skunks came near. He lumbered back toward the willows and here met the trapper. They stopped and stood facing each other at man’s length. The skunk expected him and everything met to retreat promptly or side step and appeared to be surprised that this was not done. A minute’s waiting and the skunk walked by him at regular speed and never looked up. CHAPTER IV THE PERSISTENT BEAVER I saw a forest fire sweeping down upon the Broken Tree Beaver colony, and I knew that the inhabitants could take refuge in their earthy, fire-proof houses in the water. Their five houses were scattered in the pond like little islands or ancient lake dwellings. A vigorous brook that came down from the snows on Mount Meeker flowed through the pond. Towering spruce trees encircled its shores. The beavers survived the fiery ordeal, but their near-by and prospective winter food-supply was destroyed. This grove of aspen and every deciduous tree that might have furnished a bark food-supply was consumed or charred by the fire. Instead of moving, the colony folks spent a number of days clearing the fire wreckage from their pond. With winter near and streams perilously low for travelling, it probably was unwise to go elsewhere and try to build a home and gather a harvest. One night, early in October, the colonists gnawed down a number of aspens that had escaped the fire. These were in a grove several hundred feet down stream from the pond. A few nights later they commenced to drag the felled aspens up stream into their pond. This was difficult work, for midway between the grove and the pond was a waterfall. The beaver had to drag each aspen out of the water and up a steep bank and make a portage around the falls. The second night of this up-stream transportation a mountain lion had lain in wait by the falls. Tracks and marks on the muddy slope showed that he had made an unsuccessful leap for two beavers on the portage. The following morning an aspen of eighty pounds’ weight which two beavers had evidently been dragging was lying on the slope. The lion had not only missed, but on the muddy slope he slipped and received a ducking in the deep water-hole below.