Day after day he saw them float timber and brush through the water for the new dam.

He saw this dam growing steadily under their efforts.

One day he lay within a dozen feet of an old beaver who was cutting down a tree six inches through.
When the tree fell, and the old beaver scurried away, Baree scurried, too.

Then he came back and smelled of the cutting, wondering what it was all about, and why Umisk's uncle or grandfather or aunt had gone to all that trouble.
He still could not induce Umisk and the other young beavers to join him in play, and after the first week or so he gave up his efforts.

In fact, their play puzzled him almost as much as the dam-building operations of the older beavers.