“Stay together, children. Eight sets of sharp beaver teeth are better than one if you meet an owl, wolf, or a bear in the woods!” said Mother.
The night’s work was done. Eight little beavers headed out to play: Benny, Billy, Bella, Betty, Bobby, Bert, Bart… and Arnold.
Whether the task was chewing, swimming, or building, Arnold was always last.
While the other kits chewed heartily into a birch or poplar tree, Arnold slowly nibbled lovely patterns into the wood. He was distracted by the music of Beaver Pond: the rustling stream, the melody of the salmon, and the whistle of the wind as it moved through the trees.
“Hurry up, Arnold!” said Benny.
The other kits glided gracefully in the water. Arnold floated on his back and watched the sky, distracted by the glittering moonlight.
“Hurry up, Arnold!” said Billy.
The other kits dragged branches across the pond in their sharp, orange teeth. Arnold wagged his flat tail and shook his head as he danced to the rhythmic drumming of logs in the stream.
“Hurry up, Arnold!” said Bella.
Arnold meant well. But when the logs began drumming, the wind began whistling, and the salmon began singing… he couldn’t help himself. His feet skipped, his tail flapped, his head shook, and his fingers snapped.
“Hurry up, Arnold!” said Betty.
It was Betty’s turn to go first at Flip the Log. Her razor sharp teeth carved a jagged break into a small pine. Eight kits descended upon it, chewing until there were eight chunks of wood. The beavers lined up in a grassy clearing with one bit of timber on each flat tail. The kit whose wood soared farthest would chew the next tree.
Arnold hurried to his place. “Wait for me!”
Eight little beavers flapped eight little tails, but only seven pine bits flew into the clearing. Arnold’s wood plunked into a thorny bush.
“Hurry up, Arnold!” said Betty.
The kits wandered deeper and deeper into the woods. Soon, the moon was high in the sky.
“Which way is Beaver Pond?” said Bobby.
“We’re lost!” said Bart.
A branch snapped. “It’s a wolf!” cried Bert.
Dry leaves crunched. “It’s a bear!” cried Bella.
Midnight cloaked the woods in shadow. The night was gloomy and unfamiliar. Something large and feathered breezed across the clearing. Was it an owl?
Arnold propped himself up with his flat, scaly tail. They were lost. If only he could hear the music of Beaver Pond. Then from somewhere far away… logs began drumming, the wind began whistling, and the salmon began singing.
Arnold’s feet skipped, his tail flapped, his head shook, and his fingers snapped!
“Look at Arnold!” said Benny, Billy, Bella, Betty, Bobby, Bert, and Bart.
Seven little beavers followed as Arnold danced through the darkest part of the woods, through the trees, and straight to Beaver Pond!
The morning sun was pink in the sky as seven kits hurried past Arnold.
At the shore, seven kits paused.
“Hurry up, Arnold!” said Benny.
Arnold’s feet skipped just a little as he slid into the water first.
~The End~
Illustration Copyright © 2009 Linda T. Snider
Copyright © 2009 by Lucinda H. Kennaley