Beaver
(This
1082nd Buffalo Sunday News column was
first published on December 18, 2011.)
Absent
through the past decade, beaver have reappeared in the Buffalo Audubon Society
Beaver Meadow Sanctuary in Java. They have built two dams, one separating the
upper and lower ponds and the other further downstream. Their lodge is on Ghost
Pond, recently acquired by the society.
When
society executive director Loren Smith told me that he is delighted to have
them back, I was a bit surprised. I have become accustomed to landowners
complaining to me about beavers damming up local creeks and flooding their
property.
But
Smith has every reason to welcome them to Beaver Meadow. Over the years they
have been absent lake levels receded several feet and their dams are
replenishing that water. "And we have plenty of trees to feed them,"
he adds.
This
beaver family is replaying in a small way the history of the species in North
America. Early trappers found them widespread and very common. In 1624, two
years before Manhattan Island was purchased from local Native Americans, 1500
pelts were shipped to Europe by Dutch traders and that number rose to an
estimated 80,000 pelts a year by 1700.
The
fur was removed from the pelt leaving a thin felt that was shaped into hats.
The stovepipe hat was just one of the beaver hat styles that were popular for
three centuries ending in about 1850 when silk hats replaced them. Expense
probably played a role in the decline of their use because by the mid-1800s
beaver were already extirpated from much of their former range. By about 1910
only a few beaver remained in remote areas. Even in the Adirondacks they were
unknown to many local guides.
Game
managers aided their repopulation through trap and transfer programs and
harvest restrictions. Unfortunately, this got out of hand and by the mid-1990s
the estimated 17,500 beaver colonies were already well over the statewide goal
of 14,000. In 1993 alone, beaver damage was reported at 2000 sites resulting in
an estimated $5.5 million in property losses and those numbers have increased
since then.
One
reason beavers have thrived is the fact that their predators are mostly gone.
Beavers are big animals, usually weighing from 30 to 75 pounds. They are also
excellent swimmers able to stay underwater as long as 15 minutes and they
rarely stray far from water so adults are safe from all but the odd bear -- and
us.
That
is the downside of our state mammal. On the other hand, anyone who has watched
their dam building or observed one swimming until, alerted by your presence it
suddenly slaps its tail and dives, has to feel affection for these industrious
animals. As is so often the case with humans as well as animals, a few are okay; big numbers not so great.
The
Beaver Meadow pair has already erected its house and dug an underwater entrance
tunnel that rises into two above water level chambers: the first a vestibule
where the animals dry out, the second a cozy room well protected by the mound's
thick walls. Like the bricks of the third pig's nursery rhyme house, those
walls serve the beavers well. Once they are frozen they have the consistency of
cement. A small ceiling air vent provides necessary oxygen.
The
beavers will be safe in their lodge until spring unless the nearby water
freezes all the way to the bottom of the lake their dams have formed. Beavers
do not hibernate and remain active all winter. They feed on the inner bark of
trees, usually saplings that they have cut down with their sharp teeth and
pulled into their pond near their home. They also eat cattails and water lilies
but not fish.
Winter
is also the season for beavers to make love. They pair for life and, if they
are three years old or more, they will mate very soon. For them,
"Tonight's the night," has real meaning for the female comes into
estrus just 24 hours each year. Her gestation will then last for a bit over
four months and in May or June she will bear between two and six kits.
Hopefully,
next summer Beaver Meadow visitors will be able to watch the activities of
these new offspring.-- Gerry
Rising