DEER LAKE

west, which seemed to transfer itself to the F eastern skies. Far into the night dashes of

flaming scarlet pulsed far beyond the head of

False Creek. The color rose and fell like a g beckoning hand, and, Indian-like, he imme- I diately attached some portentous meaning to

the unusual sight. That it was some omen

he never doubted, so he paddled inland,

beached his canoe, and took the trail towards

the little group of lakes that crowd themselves

into the area that lies between the present

cities of Vancouver and New Westminster.

But long before he reached the shores of Deer

Lake he discovered that the beckoning hand

was in reality flame. The little body of water

was surrounded by forest fires. One avenue

alone stood open. It was a group of giant

trees that as yet the flames had not reached.

As he neared the point he saw a great moving

mass of living things leaving the lake and

hurrying northward through this one egress.

He stood, listening, intently watching with

alert eyes; the swirr of myriads of little travel-

ling feet caught his quick ear—the moving

mass was an immense colony of beaver.

Thousands upon thousands of them. Scores

of baby beavers staggered along, following ,

their mothers; scores of older beavers that had

felled trees and built dams through many sea-

sons; a countless army of trekking fur bearers,

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