The Adventures of Jack Sprout
Chapter 2 - JACK SPROUT MEETS FRED BEAVER

Hi I’m Jack Sprout, the sunflower seed who grew up to be a farmer. In my first story, I told you about growing up in Farmer Smith’s sunflower field. I barely made it out of there the night of the Harvest Moon, the night before harvest. It wasn’t easy breaking away from my roots, but I’m glad I did!

This time I’ll tell you the story of how I met my good friend, Fred Beaver. Seems like every time I meet someone, I learn something new about taking care of our Beaver Creek Meadow.

I had to find the farmland that Farmer Smith had been saving for me, so I left Grandma Elderberry’s nut orchard and headed down Old Pal Road. Old Pal Road runs the length of The Beaver Creek Meadow. It starts in the foothills up north, goes past the West Woods and down to the prairie. All of the farms and houses along Old Pal Road have been there a long, long time. I followed the road around until it crossed The Beaver Creek Creek.

Near the creek was a path that entered the East Woods. I followed the dirt path into the woods and it led to a wide well used trail. As I walked along, I caught glimpses of a beautiful grassy meadow through the trees. The land Farmer Smith had been saving for me must be close by but I didn’t know exactly where. A little farther down the trail, I happened to meet two bees flying towards me. They were flying slowly, looking around and talking back and forth. One was really big and wide and the other one was very small. They both had bright shiny eyes, brown and tan striped bodies and wings that I could see through. I waved and shouted, “Hello!” They shouted back together, “Hello Jack Sprout!” and landed on a nearby branch.

“Hey, how did you know my name?” I asked.

“Everyone around here knows your name. You’re our new farmer,” said the big bee wearing overalls with a red handkerchief in his pocket. Then I remembered what Grandma Elderberry had told me, ‘Everyone in The Beaver Creek Meadow knows your name now, Jack Sprout.’

“Well, who are you and what do you?” I asked.

“I’m Uncle Dale,” said the big bee, “and this is my wife Aunt Gerry. We’re honeybees and we have a honey farm a little ways farther down the trail. Our worker bees fly to all of the flowers and trees in the meadow and on the prairies and hillsides. They gather the plants’ nectar to make our honey and to do another very important job for all the plants. You must come see us before you start planting your seeds or you won’t be a successful farmer.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you when you’re ready,” said Uncle Dale. “Say, I’ll bet you’re looking for the farmland Farmer Smith’s been saving for you!”

“I sure am!” I shouted. “Do you know where it is?”

“Well Jack Sprout, your land is right out there in the meadow! You’re south of the creek and on the edge of the East Woods. All of the meadow you can see is yours!” shouted back Uncle Dale. He seemed to be as excited as I was. “You have a beautiful place! This meadow has deep rich soil and good weather for growing. You’ll want Early Worm to fertilize your soil when you’re ready to plant. You’ll also need some lumber when you build your house. There’s a big burly beaver at the north end of the meadow named Fred Beaver. Fred and his family live in a den on a pond behind the biggest dam on the Beaver Creek Creek. He’ll help you get the trees you need to saw into lumber. Let us know if you need any help with your new place. Come visit our honey farm someday, you won’t be a successful farmer without us,” he said as they flew away. Uncle Dale did all of the talking but Aunt Gerry was smiling a lot. They were a happy honeybee couple.

“Good-bye,” I yelled back, “and thank you!”

I wondered what was so important between the honeybees and the plants but I didn’t have time for that now. All of the beautiful land I’d been seeing was mine! I ran from the woods and jumped into the soft meadow grass. I rolled around and around for hours and hours until I finally got tired and fell asleep. When I awoke, it was dark and chilly. I went into the East Woods and made a bed out of the soft fallen leaves and grass I’d pulled from the meadow. I ate some wild lettuce and berries I’d found growing nearby, listened to the night animals, mostly the owls and coyotes, then drifted off to sleep.

I awoke the next morning at sunrise and stayed on my new land all day. There was a lot going on in the meadow. There were birds, rabbits, squirrels, fox, bobcats and deer. Some worked on their homes or gathered food and others just played. The meadow had lots of trails going in all directions. It was a very busy place.

By the time the sun had gone down over the birch trees in the West Woods, I’d felt the early morning sun, cool moist breezes and light afternoon rains. I’d seen tall leafy trees along the creek that could hold back the gusty canyon winds. I’d heard the sounds of the birds and animals that filled the meadow air and I’d dug my hands deep into the rich moist soil. Uncle Dale was right, this was a beautiful place and the weather and soil were great for growing. It got chilly again, so I went back into the East Woods to my grass and leaf bed. I knew right then that before I could start farming, I’d need to build myself a nice warm house! I lay on my bed thinking of plans for my new farm until I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning was bright and sunny. I went to The Beaver Creek Creek north of my farm and began walking up stream. Uncle Dale said that’s where I’d find Fred Beaver to get the trees I needed to build my house.

As I walked along the edge of the creek, I was surprised at what I saw. The creek was very much alive! There were frogs jumping in and out of the water. Birds were flying around and diving in searching for food. Fish were jumping out of the water trying to catch flies for lunch. Turtles were sitting on the rocks getting warmed by the sun. Sticks floating downstream would get caught on the side of the bank until other sticks came along to knock them free again.

I sat down on the creek bank to watch. With all the jumping and flying around, I thought for sure there’d be a crash or something but there wasn’t. After watching for a while, the warm sun and the soft grass made my eyelids heavy, so I laid back on the creek bank and fell asleep. I woke up when a noisy redheaded woodpecker started knocking on a tree looking for food!

I took a big long drink of water from the creek and started walking again. After awhile, I saw what looked like a beaver off in the distance. As I got closer, I could see a big burly beaver standing by the edge of his pond. He had a small head but a big body that was covered with beautiful brown fur. His legs and arms were short but with long curved claws. He had large strong teeth and a wide flat tail that was flipping up and down. He was looking toward his dam and was very excited about something.

I said, “Hello, you must be Fred Beaver.”

He turned to me then quickly back to his dam. “Yes, I’m Fred and you must be our new green long-eared farmer, Jack Sprout,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m Jack,” I said. “Hey, you look nervous. What’s the matter?”

“Look!” he shouted. “A runaway log from upstream has just broken through my dam! There’s a big hole that’s letting all of the water out. If that hole gets any bigger the whole dam will break apart and The Beaver Creek Meadow will be in big trouble!” he yelled.

I could see the big hole in his dam and the water rushing out. If Fred’s dam broke apart, a lot of homes and farms would be ruined. “I came to get some trees.” I said. “But that can wait, I want to help you fix the dam!”

“That’s great!” shouted Fred. “Let’s get to work! We don’t have much time!”

First, Fred chopped down several small saplings growing near the edge of the pond. Then I tied them together with some strong vines growing nearby. In a very short time we’d made a large strong raft. We loaded the raft with sticks from the East Woods and mud from the pond. Then we swam and pushed the raft, using Fred’s strong tail, over to the broken dam.

I tossed the sticks up to Fred who was on top of the dam. He caught the sticks with his front feet and jammed them into the large hole. After several sticks were in place, the rushing water began to slow down. Then I wrapped some of the mud in my handkerchief and threw it up to Fred. With his feet, and sometimes even his tail, Fred packed the mud in tight around the sticks. The mud held the sticks together and the water began to slow even more. I could see that Fred Beaver was an expert dam builder. We made several trips back and forth from the dam to the edge of the pond. It was very tiring work and a little dangerous too. The water was rushing by very fast and could’ve swept us over the dam at any time. We kept working and after four long hours, we were finally finished. Fred’s dam was strong again!

We crawled over to the meadow and fell back onto the soft green grass. We were tired and worn out but happy that the dam was fixed. The Beaver Creek Meadow had been saved from a huge flood!

“It’s a good thing you came along when you did, Jack Sprout. I couldn’t have stopped that much water by myself,” said Fred.

“That’s okay I was glad to help it was fun. Did you build the dam yourself?” I asked. “Parts of it look pretty old.”

“Let me tell you about this dam,” said Fred. Fred told me a long story about his family’s history and the beginnings of The Beaver Creek Meadow. He said the beavers were the first settlers to the area. When they arrived they chopped down small birch trees. They used the trees to build sturdy dams to slow down the fast moving mountain streams. A beautiful grassy meadow was formed with several beaver ponds and a clean, clear running creek. Surrounding the meadow were mountains, forests, woods, wetlands and the prairie. Soon other animals came to enjoy the area and named it The Beaver Creek Meadow in honor of the first settlers. Since that time, Fred’s family has been in charge of the ponds. He said that he’d been taking care of this main pond since the day his dad couldn’t paddle anymore. Fred will hand the job over to his sons when he can no longer paddle.

“The dams must be kept in good working order for the sake of the meadow,” explained Fred. “This dam controls how much water flows into The Beaver Creek Creek that runs through the heart of our meadow.

There’s a big red fox named Pierre Le True, who runs the Power Paddle Wheel just a short distance down stream from here. Pierre is everyone’s true friend. He gets real upset if there’s not enough water flowing to turn his paddle wheel. He also gets upset when there’s too much water flowing and his paddle wheel start spinning out of control. After the Power Paddle Wheel, the creek runs through Barley & Iris Miller’s Flour Mill. Barley and his wife Iris are cute friendly chipmunks. They have beautiful brown furry coats with white stripes and long fluffy tails. The water turns Barley’s big round flat stone, which grinds our seeds and grain into flour. Iris bakes breads and cakes that make your mouth water just thinking about them. We all want to make sure we keep Barley & Iris Miller’s Flour Mill running smoothly. So you see, this dam is very important. Hey, what was it you’re looking for?”

“Oh, I came to get some trees for the lumber I need to build my new house.” I said.

“Oh good, cutting trees and turning them into logs for lumber is what I do best,” said Fred. “I’ll be glad to do it since you helped me save my dam and The Beaver Creek Meadow from getting flooded. I’ll ask Sawdust Miller where I can get some large Silver Oak trees. We don’t cut any trees without asking him first. They’ll make you a strong beautiful house that’ll last for a long time. After you pick up the logs, you can take them to Sawdust. He’s a dusty ol' woodchuck who’s built low to the ground. He’s not much to look at but he’s very important. He’s the caretaker of our woods and forest. He has a sawmill in the East Woods and will turn your trees into beautiful straight lumber.”

“That sounds great,” I said.

It was starting to get dark so I thanked Fred, said good-bye and headed home to my bed in the East Woods. On my way back, I was feeling really good inside. It’s the kind of feeling you get when you’ve helped a neighbor and made a new friend.

Well, that’s the story of how I met Fred Beaver who’s in charge of all the dams in The Beaver Creek Meadow. Fred comes to visit me now and I still take walks up stream to his dam. Sometimes on my way I lie by the creek in the soft meadow grass and take a nap. Unless, of course, that noisy redheaded woodpecker is knocking on a tree again!

In my next story we’ll go into the East Woods and find Sawdust Miller’s Sawmill. It’s time to get the lumber I need so I can build my farm!

 

Keep Growing,

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Questions:
1. Name the main road that runs through Beaver Creek?
2. Who did Jack Sprout meet on the trail in the East Woods?
3. What did Jack Sprout help Fred Beaver do?
4. Where did the water go after it left Fred Beaver’s Dam?
5. Do you remember Fred telling me about his friend Sawdust Miller? Well, my next story will be about the time I met Sawdust at his sawmill in the East Woods.

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