His three companions were a bit smaller.

They came waddling from behind a low willow, making queer little chuckling noises, their little flat tails dragging like tiny sledges behind them.
They were fat and furry, and mighty friendly looking to Baree, and his heart beat a sudden swift-pit-a-pat of joy.
But Baree did not move.

He scarcely breathed.

And then, suddenly, Umisk turned on one of his playmates and bowled him over.

Instantly the other two were on Umisk, and the four little beavers rolled over and over, kicking with their short feet and spatting with their tails, and all the time emitting soft little squeaking cries.