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63 The trail led down to a smooth swamp pond filled with such clear water that the children could see the long grass moving at the bottom. A short distance from the edge little heaps of leaves, straw, and twigs rose here and there above the surface of the water. Jo said they were houses that the muskrats had built to live in last winter.

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“They build just before the cold weather sets in,” he said. “It is great sport to come every day and see how the houses grow. Sometimes the muskrats don’t bother very much with building, and the winters that follow are open and warm, generally. But when old Mr. Muskrat builds high, wide, and handsome, look out for thick ice and deep heavy snow.”

“How curious!” said Ann. “How do you suppose they know what the weather is going to be?”

The band walked along beside the swamp until it narrowed into a running river again.

“Gulls like the pond, too,” Jo said. “Especially when a storm is blowing up. When the wind begins to be too strong the gulls sweep into the cove and watch for the fish that are beating into the mouth of the river. They hang up there in the air and laugh as if they liked the storm. They laugh out loud and shriek and have a great time. When they get tired and pretty well fed they let the wind carry them back here to the pond, where they settle in droves on the sheltered water. They wait until the storm blows over. Next nor’easter that blows up, I’ll remember to show them to you. You can see them easily from the kitchen.”

He was leading the band and they were drawing nearer to the road. Suddenly he stopped short, so short that Ann, who was next, bumped into him.

64 “Hello!” he said. “What’s this?”

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At his feet were the charred embers of a fire. They were still smoldering and, as he brushed the ashes aside with his foot, the coals gleamed brightly.

“Who do you suppose did that?” he exclaimed indignantly. “None of the folks around here would ever leave a fire burning in the woods. Why, it might spread and burn off the whole territory. Once a fire got started up through the pines nothing could stop it.”

Ann looked down at the wicked gleam. She never would have dreamed that it was wicked if Jo hadn’t told her it was, but what he had said made 

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