Valerian gazed down at the dam. Then he shifted about, looked at the boulder, then down at the dam, then the boulder again. “Maybe . . .” he said softly, “what we should do is . . . bust it.”
Taken aback, Clover looked up. “Bust their dam?” she cried in astonishment.
“Look here,” Valerian continued. “Maybe we had no right to say they couldn’t come here and build. It wasn’t our brook. But they’ve taken over. Taken everything. If we busted that dam,” Valerian continued, “the pond water would drain away. All the animals could use the Brook again. The way we did before.”
“But we’re mice, Valerian!” Clover squeaked. “We’re small. It’s huge. They’re huge. How could we do anything big like that?”
Valerian looked all around. Then, nodding, he said, “I’ll tell you how . . . by using the boulder we’ve been living under. Always seemed to me it might topple on its own. Well, listen here, love, suppose we dig around it and under it. Get it loose. Then, well, give it a shove. Let it roll down the hill so that it hits the beavers’ dam smack on. I bet you a pile of acorns it’d punch out a pretty big hole. Water would drain right out.”
“But . . .” Clover said, quite flabbergasted, “how could you get it to go the right way?”
Valerian studied the boulder, the hill, then the pond anew. “Let’s say we made a kind of ditch right in front of it. Sort of a chute. Of course, we’d have to aim it right at the dam. If we did it properly it couldn’t miss.”
Clover stared at her husband with wide-eyed admiration. “Valerian, do . . . do you think we really could do that?”
Valerian was getting more and more excited. “We’ve got the whole family around, don’t we? If everybody pitched in, worked hard, I think we could do it. But we’d have to do it right away. By dawn. Once we start, those beavers will figure out what we’re doing.”
“I’d want to work, too,” Clover assured him. “One of us could be in charge of digging around the boulder. The other could make that ditch.”
“Right!” Valerian cried. “But, like I said, we better do it right away.”
“But what about Rye, Thistle, and Curleydock? And Poppy?”
“Can’t see where it’d do them any harm. Might even make things easier for them. And if it works, maybe the beavers will go away,” he added, with new determination in his voice. “Forever.”
Clover looked at him. Suddenly she cried, “Oh, Valerian, I’m so glad it’s you I love. I truly am!” And she threw her paws about him and gave him a tight hug, which he returned.
The next moment the two went rushing down into their nest. “Everybody up! Everybody up! There’s work to do!”
The family having been roused, Valerian and Clover told them of the plan. Sensing their parents’ enthusiasm, all the children pitched in eagerly.
In quick time, under Clover’s direction, some thirty golden mice were scraping the earth away from around the boulder. Though their paws were small and could carry but little at a time, they attacked the task with great determination. The dirt began to fly.
Simultaneously, directly in front of the boulder and aimed right at the dam, Valerian and his crew marked out the ditch.
Valerian had but one worry: Could they do it all fast enough?
CHAPTER 25
Inside the Lodge
A TOP THE BEAVERS’ lodge, Poppy woke with a start. How long had she slept? She stood tall and looked east. There was a faint hint of dawn. It made her heart lurch. With the coming of dawn she was sure the beavers would awaken. When they did, she would lose whatever chance she had to free Rye. A great deal of time already had been lost.
She scrambled to the top of the lodge where she thought the vent hole had been. As before, all she found was mud. This time, however, she was desperate. Putting the vine ring aside, she clawed at the mud. While heavy and thick, it was capable of being dug. Poppy began to hack at it.
Gradually, a hole emerged. The more she worked, the more her energy was restored. She worked harder. Unexpectedly, she broke through. A scent of beaver wafted up. It made her almost shout with joy. She had uncovered the vent hole. The mud had been plastered over—and poorly at that.
Working fast now, Poppy dug out the vent hole to its fullest. Done, she sat back, breathless with her efforts. Now there was nothing to prevent her from at least trying to get to Rye, force open his cage, and free him. Then she recalled that one of the reasons she had wanted Thistle and Curleydock to join her was to help with the bars. There was nothing to do but go on. She and Rye would have to get him free on their own.
Feeling almost reckless now, Poppy tied one end of the vine to a stick, took the free end in her mouth, and crept into the vent hole.
Even though she had made her way through the hole before, this time the way seemed longer. Moreover, some of the mud from the top had fallen in. She was constantly scraping it away and pushing it behind her.
Down she went. When she finally reached the end, she peered into the lodge. To her horror, the beavers were not sleeping. They were having a meeting.
Mr. Canad was standing before his family. Next to him was his daughter, Clara. With great glee, she was telling them what had happened out on the pond.
“I don’t think any of them survived,” she said with pride. “And it only took one smack of the old tail.”
The other beavers beat their own tails against the ground. Even Mr. Canad joined in.
“Okay, folks, I just went out to check for myself. Clara did a great job, but if seeing is believing, the mice
