I always felt that the mythology and misunderstanding surrounding beavers was so profound and enduring that it could only be centuries old with complex multi-cultural influence. You only need look at the Scottish Beastiary that describes the way they “bite off their own testicals to avoid being hunted” to know that it has probably always been fun to tell lies about beavers. The algonquin myth about Wishpoosh the “monster beaver” is another such example. Well yesterday I stumbled across some beaver lies that were startling in both their source and charm.
This trapping narrative is recorded by C. Peters DeWitt, an assisstant surgeon who joined Kit Carson on several of his expeditions and published his account in 1858. The entire volume is searchable here. I thought this excerpt would whet your appetite.
THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF KIT CARSON, THE NESTOR OF THE ROCKY
MOUNTAINS, FROM FACTS NARRATED BY HIMSELF
This event served to interrupt the monotony and routine of winter camp duty, affording a basis for many a long yarn during the evening hours around the camp fires. These trappers, especially whenever a green-eyed bundle of curiosity chances to seek their company, can spin yarns most wondrous. The habits of the beaver and their remarkable instinct, form a fit subject for their active imagination. "Ah! Jones, that is a whopper." "Sure as I live, but the beaver slept every night with the trapper, and in the day time, if he left the tent, the beaver would fall to work and make a dam across the floor of the tent, using the chist, skins, arms and everything." "Oh! Jones!"
"But, I tell you it is true. Tame a beaver once, and you'll find I'se
tellin' a plain statement as true as ever a Padre made."
"Padre! who'd believe a Mexican priest? Mr. Jones, that tame beaver
of your'n must have been born in the States, where he hadn't trees and
mud to build dams with, and had to resort to furnitur."
"That beaver," responded Jones, "was as near like a human bein' as any
man present."
"How do you make that out, Mr. Jones?"
"Why, one day his master died. Well, they tried all they could to
console the beaver, but it 'twant no use. He wouldn't be consoled.
All he did was to git an ole shoe belonging to his master, an' if he
didn't haul that ere shoe around day after day wherever he went. Well,
the beaver 'gan to grow thin, and one night they found he was a dyin',
jest from starvin' himself to death and a huggin' the ole shoe."
"Oh! Jones," said the greenhorn, "you don't expect I'll swallow all
that yarn?"
But Mr. Jones and all of the other trappers present preserved an imperturbable dignity of mien, as if the very reference to the animal mentioned demanded from them all due reverence. “Well, but that was not doing as a human being would do. I never seen a man carry an old shoe around till he died from starvin’.” “That is neither here nor there,” continued Mr. Jones. “It was when the trapper first made the beaver’s acquaintance that he showed he knew as much as a human critter. At that time he had one wife and lived with her all alone in a hole, side o’ the dam. They had two sons and a darter. The darter the old beaver had married to a fine lookin’ young beaver who lived t’other side the dam.” The whistle which the neophyte here gave seemed to give great dissatisfaction to all of the trappers present. One of them quietly asked him– “Is that the way, youngster, you’se bin eddicated in perliteniss of manners? If it is, I know a beaver who kin larn you sumthin’. In the fust place, if a young beaver ever kums inter the presence of the ole uns, especially if she’s, that is the ole uns, a female beaver, the
young un ‘mediately fetches his right fore paw up to his forehead,
jest ‘hind the right eyebrow, an’ makes a reverintial bow of cerimony in salute. I’se seen that ar’ oftener than you’ve put one leg ahead of t’other yit, young un.”
The trappers present all confirmed the truth of this statement by a solemn nod of assent to the query, “Ain’t that true, gentlemen?” which, at least, served to prevent unceremonious whistling.
It is thus that we might go on and fill page after page with this picture-talk of the trappers. Some of their yarns are pretty tightly strained, but most of them contain a capital hit and are usually founded on the facts. It is a well authenticated fact that the beaver has but one mate; and, that they live together a loving couple, as if husband and wife. As to their _liaisons_, coquetry, flirting and so forth, doubtless the society in some parts of the human family will bear a faithful resemblance in these respects also. As an example of industry the world will look in vain for a better one than is afforded by the little beaver of the Western Rivers. Look at them patiently felling the tallest trees; and, so nicely adjusting their fall and calculating their height, that they strike the opposite bank of their stream gaining a fixed and permanent lodgment. It is thus that these wonderful little creatures will often erect dams across wide rivers and effectually stop the rushing torrents.
You see? Lying about beavers is nothing new.
