Mr. Beaver sighed. “Yes, yes, that’s very good of you, Roz. But I don’t understand what any of this has to do with us.”
“My son and I need a home, and Loudwing said you would help us build one.”
“Of course she did,” Mr. Beaver muttered to himself. “Loudwing gets me out of one lousy jam, and I spend the rest of my days doing her favors.”
Mrs. Beaver glared at her husband.
“Sorry,” he said, realizing he was being stubborn and rude again. “Stay right there, Roz. We need to have a family meeting.”
The three beavers slipped under the water, and a moment later their muffled voices could be heard inside the lodge. The robot stood on the dam and patiently waited with her son.
“Mama! Mama!”
“Yes, Brightbill, I am trying to act like a good mother.”
A ripple, and Mr. Beaver’s head appeared above the water. “If you bring us four more trees—good, healthy ones—maybe I’ll have time to help you and the gosling.”
“That is wonderful!” said the robot. “We will be right back!”
CHAPTER 30 THE NEST
“I’ve built my fair share of lodges over the years.” Mr. Beaver stood at the water’s edge. “But I can’t say I’ve ever built one for a robot and a gosling. So, just what exactly do you need?”
“We need a lodge big enough for us both,” said Roz. “It should be comfortable and safe. And it should be near the pond.”
“How long do you plan on living in this lodge?”
“I do not know.”
“Then we’d better make sure it’s strong and sturdy.” Mr. Beaver stroked his whiskers as he thought. “Do you plan on having friends over? The missus loves to entertain guests.”
“I do not have any friends.”
“No friends? Well, you seem pretty likable for a monster. I mean, a robot. But if you want my advice, you should grow yourself a garden. Your neighbors won’t be able to resist fresh herbs and berries and flowers. Just you wait and see! So we’ll make sure there’s a place for a garden, and we’ll give your lodge some extra space for all the friends you’ll be hosting.” The beaver winked. “We also need to find a way to keep your lodge comfortable when it’s cold outside. Our lodge is heated by our own bodies. But I think we’ll have to find another way to heat yours.”
The beaver and the robot thought about heat for a while. The first thing that came to Roz’s mind was the sun. But then she remembered the hot sparks she had felt while sliding down the mountain peak.
“I could heat our lodge with fire,” she said.
Mr. Beaver blinked his little eyes.
“I will need to experiment,” Roz continued. “But I think there is a way.”
“You go right ahead, Roz,” said the beaver. “But would you try not to burn down the entire forest?”
“Do not worry. I will be careful.”
“Let’s move on.” Mr. Beaver sighed. “The next order of business is to find a site for your lodge. That meadow across the water would be perfect, but the hares will have a fit if we try to build there. I think we should clear out some trees and build right in the forest. And I know just the place!”
The beaver took them along the water and up to a dense section of forest that jutted into the pond.
“It needs some work,” said Mr. Beaver, trudging through the thick weeds, “but this ought to do the job.”
“Yes, this ought to do the job,” said Roz, in her friendliest voice.
“Job!” said Brightbill.
Mr. Beaver was incredibly skilled at taking down trees, but even he couldn’t keep up with Roz’s powerful chopping hands. So he let the robot do the hard work. He pointed out the trees and shrubs that needed to go, and Roz started hacking away. By sunset, they were standing in a newly cleared site, and they had more than enough wood to build the lodge.
“You did some fine work today, Roz.” Mr. Beaver yawned. “I’ll return in the morning, and we’ll pick up right where we left off.”
“What would you like me to do?” said the robot.
“Tonight? So you still feel like working, do you? Very good! Well, you can start by digging out these tree stumps. And you can collect all those large, flat stones over there. And you can smooth down this patch of dirt so we have a level place to build. That should keep you busy!”
The next morning, Mr. Beaver returned to find that Roz had been very busy indeed. All the tree stumps had been dug up, and their holes filled in with dirt. Twenty large stones had been stacked. And the ground was now perfectly level. But what most astonished Mr. Beaver was that Roz and Brightbill were huddled around a small crackling campfire.
Mr. Beaver moved his lips, but no words came out.
“Brightbill was cold last night,” said Roz. “So I taught myself how to make a fire.”
“But—but—but how?”
“I discovered that when I strike these two stones together, they create sparks, like this. I directed sparks onto dry leaves and wood until they ignited. Once I had a fire, it was easy to keep it going. And if I need to put it out, I can just add water!”
Mr. Beaver sat and warmed his paws. “I’ve never seen fire in such a neat little bundle.” He stared into the flames. “I’ve only seen it blazing through the forest, burning everything in its path. But this is marvelous!” He took another minute to enjoy the warmth. Then he and the robot got back to work.
Mr. Beaver asked Roz to dig a trench here, to place large stones there, to arrange logs this way, to smear mud that way. Birds and squirrels perched in the trees and watched the new lodge take shape. It resembled the beaver lodge, but it was larger, a great dome of wood and mud and leaves. A simple opening in the wall served as the entrance, and the door was nothing more than a heavy stone that the robot could slide out of the way.
Inside, the lodge was one big, round room. The arched ceiling was high enough that Roz could stand upright. A fire pit was set into the center of the floor, and a mesh of thin branches above acted as a vent. Long stones lined the interior walls, like benches, and were covered with thick cushions of moss. There was even a hole for storing food and water for Brightbill.
“You’ve got yourself a beautiful pond-view property!” said Mr. Beaver. “What are you going to name it?”
“I do not understand.”
“Why, a beautiful lodge like this deserves a name! We call our lodge Streamcatcher.”
The robot’s computer brain didn’t take long. “The lodge is for Brightbill. Brightbill is a bird. Birds live in nests. Could we call this lodge the Nest?”
“Huzzah!” squeaked the beaver. “The Nest is a fine name for your lodge!”
“Nest! Nest!” laughed Brightbill.
They stood outside the Nest and admired their handiwork until Mr. Beaver’s belly began to grumble. “That sound means it’s time for me to go get dinner.”
“Thank you very much for your help,” said Roz. “We could not have done this without you.”
“You’re quite welcome!” said Mr. Beaver, smiling. “For your garden you’ll want to speak with Tawny, the doe who lives over the hill. She’ll know just what to do. And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to hurry home before Paddler eats all the best leaves. Enjoy your first night in the Nest!”
CHAPTER 31 THE FIRST NIGHT
The stars were out. A fire was crackling in the fire pit. Roz and Brightbill were settling into their first night in their new home.
“This lodge is where we will live from now on.” The robot plucked her son from his little woven nest and placed him on the floor. “I hope you like it.”
The gosling did like it. He liked that it was big and warm and peaceful. And he liked knowing that the forest and the pond were just outside. He waddled around, peeping to himself and exploring every little corner of the lodge until it was time for bed. His mother carefully laid him on a soft cushion of moss. But he didn’t want to sleep there. So she put him back in his little nest, but he didn’t want to sleep there either.