He stood on his short legs for a moment; then he tilted himself up on his broad, flat tail like a soldier at attention, and with a sudden whistle dived into the pond with a great splash.
In another moment it seemed to Baree that the pond was alive with beavers.

Heads and bodies appeared and disappeared, rushing this way and that through the water in a manner that amazed and puzzled him.

It was the colony's evening frolic.

Tails hit the water like flat boards.
Odd whistlings rose above the splashing--and then as suddenly as it had begun, the play came to an end.

There were probably twenty beavers, not counting the young, and as if guided by a common signal--something which Baree had not heard--they became so quiet that hardly a sound could be heard in the pond.