McGraw©Hill/Focus/The Survival of Ahmeek p. 528////R7N31 ***** Toward owl©light one September day the forest stillness

above Vermilion Creek was filled with a strange stir and rustle

of scurrying feet. Not the brief, furtive movement of skilled

prowlers, but a steady, unheeding scuttle of hurrying forms.

These woods were witnessing a rare occurrence©©the overland march

of a company of beavers from one watercourse to another©©a most

hazardous undertaking which is attempted only in time of great

peril. This was the end of a night and two days' steady march©©some

fifty miles through an area where coyotes, wolves, minks, and

bobcats roamed. The chances had been all but one against their

winning thought. The one hope lay in the almost human

intelligence of the beaver clan and the special sagacity of old

Ahmeek, the leader. Ahmeek had seemed to know instinctively the

direction he must follow, and except for unavoidable detours he

held that course. Now at last the early©risen moon saw him descending a long

hardwood slope, his eight followers straggling behind him,

footsore and waddling and all but exhausted. Owls hooted and

soared above them in the gathering dark; often dry leaves and

twigs crunched unheeded beneath their feet. But somewhere not

far ahead was a stream. Ahmeek's instinct told him so, and they

pressed on at redoubled speed. Their need for water, both inward

and outward, had become agonizing. A half hour more and Vermilion Creek came in sight, glinting

like quicksilver in the moonlight. Downward now in a heedless

rush Ahmeek herded his followers.