Dr. Phil, as captain, signified his assent.  After a short breathing-spell he again gave the command, “Forward!” And his company pushed on into the woods, following the course of a dark stream which had gurgled through the swamp.

“There used to be an old beaver-dam somewheres about here,” broke forth Joe presently, when they had made about a quarter of a mile, the younger guide taking the lead, for he was evidently more at home in this part of the forest land than his senior, Uncle Eb.  “Hullo, now! there it is.  Look, gentlemen!”

He pointed to a curved bank of brushwood, mostly alder branches, piled together in curious topsyturvy fashion, which formed a dam across the stream.  It bristled with sticks, poking out and up in every direction; for the bushy ends of the boughs had been heavily plastered with mud and stones, to keep them down.

“That a beaver-dam!” gasped Neal in amazement.  “Why, I always had an idea that beavers were half human in intelligence, and wove their branches in and out in a sort of neat basketwork when making dams.  That’s a funny rough-and-tumble looking old pile.”

“It’s a good water-tight dam, for all that,” answered Cyrus.  “And don’t you begin to underrate Mr. Beaver’s intelligence until you see more of his works.  I’ve torn the bottom out of a dam like this on a cold, rainy night,—­beavers like rainy nights for work,—­and then hidden myself in some bushes to watch the result.  It was a trial of strength and patience, I assure you, to remain there for six mortal hours,—­though I had rubber overalls on,—­with wet twigs and leaves slapping my face.  But the sight I saw was more wonderful than anything I could have imagined.  There was a cloudy, watery moon; and shortly after it rose, five beavers appeared upon the dam, scrambling up and down, and examining the great hole through which the water was fast leaking out of their pond.  Then, following a big fellow, who was evidently the boss beaver, they swam to the bank.  He stationed himself near a tree about twenty inches in circumference, and his four boys at once started to fell it.  I tell you they worked like hustlers, each one sawing on it in turn with his sharp teeth, and sometimes two of them together on different parts of the trunk.

“At last the tree—­it was an ash—­fell, toppling into the water just where the beavers wanted it.  They pushed and tugged it down-stream for about ten yards, to the dam, and propped it against the opening which I had made.  I couldn’t see the rest of the operations clearly; but I caught glimpses of them, marching about on their hind-legs, carrying mud snug up to their chins like this,” here Cyrus folded his arms across his chest.  “And before daybreak that dam was perfectly repaired, with never a leak in it.

“You know they build the dams in very shallow water, only a few inches deep; and they generally roll in a couple of long logs for a solid foundation.  It was one of these which I had torn out.  Now, Neal, what do you say about the beaver’s intelligence?”