By this time Bobbie had forgotten all about the tramps who took the jewelry. He was thinking only of catching Toto.

“Oh ho! You’re a fine, fat one!” laughed Bobbie. “I’d like you for a pet!”

“I’ve got to get away as fast as I can!” thought Toto. “I wish I had not come so far from the dam and the water back of it. If I could find some deep water now I’d dive into it and this boy chap couldn’t find me. I’d stay under a long time.”

But, just then, Toto could see no water near him, though he remembered he had swum in a brook almost up to the house into which the tramps had broken to get food and the box of jewelry.

“If I could only find that brook now!” thought poor Toto.

“I’ll get you! I’ll get you!” cried the boy. Of course Toto did not know what these words meant any more than the boy could understand beaver talk. But Toto knew he was in danger, and the boy knew the little animal, with the flat tail, was trying to get away.

Now Toto could smell water even when he could not see it. His nose was very good for smelling, and, as he ran along—or rather “waddled,” as I call it—he kept sniffing to see if he could not smell water somewhere. And at last he did. Off to his left he caught the smell he so much wanted, and he turned sharply to one side.

“I wonder where he’s going now,” said the boy, aloud. “Maybe he has a nest over there. No, beavers don’t live in nests, so Jake told me. They have their houses in the water near a dam. I wish I could find a beaver dam. Then I could get two beavers for pets.”

Bobbie did not know how hard it was to capture beavers once those busy animals are in the water.

“I’ll get him! I’ll get that beaver!” cried the boy.

“If I can only get to the water I’ll be all right!” thought poor Toto, whose heart was beating very fast, both in fear and because he had to hurry along so quickly.

Just as the beaver reached the edge of the little stream Bobbie got there too, and made a grab for Toto. So close was Bobbie to Toto that the boy could almost touch the flat tail of our friend. But Toto gave a jump, and into the water he landed, making a great splash. Down, down toward the bottom dived Toto, and at once he began to swim under water, for beavers can do that, just as muskrats can. Of course they are not like a fish, who has to stay under water all the while, and can not breathe in the open air. Beavers, and animals like that, can hold their breath a long while under water, and so can stay hidden and out of sight.

“Oh, there he goes!” cried Bobbie, much disappointed as he saw Toto dive into the stream. “But maybe I can get him!”

The boy ran along the bank of the stream, but Toto knew better than even to stick out so much as the tip of his nose. The beaver did not need to do this. He could swim under water for quite a long time, and that’s what he was doing now. His hind feet were webbed, like those of a duck, and his broad, flat tail helped him, too. It was like the propeller of a boat. In a half minute he was far enough away from Bobbie to be safe, and, though the boy ran along the stream for several minutes, he did not again see Toto—that is not for some days. Toto had got safely away, and, half an hour later, he was back at the dam, where he found his father and his mother and Sniffy waiting for him.

“Where have you been?” asked Mr. Beaver. “You were gone so long that I thought something had happened.”

“Something did happen,” answered Toto. “A boy chased me, and I saw the ragged men—the tramps as Don, the dog, called them!”

“My goodness!” exclaimed Mrs. Beaver. “Chased by a boy! Did he catch you?”

“No, I got away just in time,” answered Toto.

“I hope those tramps aren’t coming to our woods again,” said Mr. Beaver.

“Well, they ran in among the trees,” said Toto, “and they stopped at a hollow one, put something in there, and then they ran on.”

“Maybe they hid a lot of bark in the hollow tree,” said Sniffy. For a beaver, you know, bark is the best thing there is in the world. It is better to him than jewelry ever could be.

“I don’t know what it was they hid,” said Toto. “But the boy chased them and then he chased me.”

“You must always be careful,” warned his father. “These woods are too often visited by hunter men and boys these days. Watch out for traps.”

Toto and Sniffy said they would, and then the beaver boys went out on a little hill, near the pond back of the dam, to have some fun. And the fun they had was sliding downhill!

I suppose it may sound odd to you to be told that beavers slide downhill, but they really do, and other wild animals in the woods do the same thing. They don’t wait for snow and ice to cover the hill, either, as you boys and girls do. In fact, most animals do not like snow and ice—unless perhaps it is polar bears—and when winter comes many animals take a long sleep until warm weather comes again.

Of course Toto and the other beavers have to stand the cold, and perhaps be out in the ice and snow, and that is why they have such a thick, warm coat of fur.

But the sliding downhill fun I am going to tell you about took place in the summer, and I suppose you are wondering how any one can slide downhill when there is no snow or ice.

Well, the beavers slide down on mud. You know how slippery mud is when it is wet. And there is a kind of mud, called “clay,” which is very slippery indeed. If you have ever been near a brickyard, and have seen the clay dug out and wet, you know how slippery it is. It is even more slippery than snow or ice.

Now near the beaver pond was a hill of clay, and some of it had been taken by Cuppy and the older animals to plaster up holes in the dam. This digging out of the clay, made a bare place on the hill, where the grass was torn away, leaving the soil exposed.

This clay slide was where Toto, Sniffy and the other beavers had their fun. And not only the young beavers, but the old ones as well, even Cuppy, took their turns going down the slide. Otters also make slippery slides to coast down, and I have even heard that big bears, when they can find a place, like to slide downhill.

The animals do this not only for fun, but to keep their muscles and legs limber and strong. It is their exercise, just as you raise your arms and bend your bodies in school when you take your exercise.

Now to be slippery, clay has to be wet. And, as it would not do to wait for a rain to come to wet the slide, the beavers, otters, and other animals wet the slides themselves. They go into the water at the foot of the slide, get themselves soaking wet, climb out and go to the top of the hill. There they sit down and the water, dripping from their bodies, makes the hill slippery. Down they go, splashing into the stream or the pond at the foot. Almost all the slides end in water.

“Come on out and slide down!” called Toto to Sniffy, and away they ran. They climbed up the hill at a place where it was not slippery and, taking turns, sat down at the top of the slide. Then, giving themselves a little push with their paws, as you give yourself a push with your feet when you sit on your sled, down they went.

Sometimes the beavers slid down on their tails, and sometimes on their backs. Some even slid down on their stomachs, or went down sideways. Down they went, any way to get a slide, and into the water they splashed.

“Hi there! Look out!” cried Toto to Dumple, a little fat beaver boy who lived in the stick house next to him. “Look out! I’m coming!”

But Dumple did not get out of the way quickly enough, and when Toto slid down he bumped right into him, and the beaver chaps went down the slide together and into the water with a splash.

“Ho! Ho! That was fun! Let’s do it again,” cried Dumple.

“All right!” agreed Toto. “But did I hurt you?”

“Not a bit!” laughed Dumple. “Come on, Sniffy! Let’s bump into one another on the slide!” he called.

So Toto’s brother joined the fun, and many other beavers played on the slide, climbing up and coasting down.

When supper time came Toto and the others had very good appetites for the bark which was waiting for them. Darkness came, and the beavers went to sleep. The night settled down on the beaver pond and dam. As Toto went to sleep perhaps he thought of the adventures of that day—how he had seen the boy chase the tramps, and how the ragged men had hidden something in the hollow tree. But Toto did not think much about that. He was too tired and sleepy after playing on the mud slide.

It was two or three days after this that, as our beaver friend was walking through the woods, looking for some soft bark for his mother, he heard a funny little noise up in a tree. The noise went:

“Mew! Mew! Meaouw!”

“Hello! what’s that?” called Toto, looking here and there. “Is anything the matter?” he asked.

“I should say there was!” came the answer. “A bad dog chased me up this tree and now I’m afraid to come down.”

“Who are you?” asked Toto.

“I am Blackie, and once I was a lost cat,” was the answer. “I guess I’m pretty nearly lost now. Oh, dear! what shall I do?”