Just as in the life of every man there is one big, controlling influence, either for good or bad, so in the life of Baree the beaver pond was largely an arbiter of destiny.

Where he might have gone if he had not discovered it, and what might have happened to him, are matters of conjecture.

But it held him.

It began to take the place of the old windfall, and in the beavers themselves he found a companionship which made up, in a way, for his loss of the protection and friendship of Kazan and Gray Wolf.
This companionship, if it could be called that, went just so far and no farther.

With each day that passed the older beavers became more accustomed to seeing Baree.