trees of exactly the same size. Each person in the contest had to try
to bring his tree to the ground first. And that caused some trouble,
too, because some claimed that their trees were of harder wood than
others--and more difficult to gnaw--while others complained that the
bark of their trees tasted very bitter, and of course that made their
task unpleasant.

Those six trees, falling one after another, made such a racket that
old Mr. Crow heard the noise miles away and flew over to see what was
happening.

After everybody crept out of his hiding-place some time afterward
(everyone had to hide for a while, you know), there was Mr. Crow
sitting upon one of the fallen trees.

"What's going on?" he inquired. "You're not going to cut down the
whole forest, I hope."

Then they told him about the celebration. And Mr. Crow began to laugh.

"What are you going to do next?" he asked.

"We're a-going to send Brownie Beaver over to Pleasant Valley to thank
Farmer Green for his kindness in putting an end to hunting and
fishing," said old Grandaddy Beaver. "And he's a-going to start right
away."

Mr. Crow looked around. And there was Brownie Beaver, with a
lunch-basket in his hand, all ready to begin his long journey.