The Snap of a Jaws of A Trap

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story about a family of beavers and a chance encounter with a hunter's trap.

Submitted: September 01, 2019

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Submitted: September 01, 2019



A Snap Of The Jaws Of A Trap


By Matthew Bissonnette


When I heard the snap of the jaws of that trap, a rusty sudden sound, then my mate cry out in pain; I realized that my life was about to change for the worst. When I saw Flat Tail look at me in agony as her paw was now caught in the jaws of a hunter’s trap; I knew I might lose her and my two children might lose their mother.

My name was Square Tooth; I was a male of a species that the man beast called beaver. I had been born in the safety of a lodge, a child of two strong parents that both provided and protected I and my siblings. Both my mother and father worked together to keep both I, my brothers and sisters alive.

The world I was born into was a lake in a land devoid of man for as long as my lineage could remember. A river that my kin had damned up long ago, a dam of trees and logs and that my ancestors had built in this land of green forests and empty valleys. On one side of the damn was a flooded area of the forest; in the murky water as lodges; partially submerged dens of beavers made out of wood where inside where families of my race where their young was protected. Fathers and mothers worked together to feed their young and maintain and repair both the dams and their lodges. It was only this that allowed us to survive, males and females in monogamous pairs where bonds where strong and there was a sense of duty to provide and protect their young.

I, Square Tooth, one night two years ago had been swimming in the flooded part of the forest one night. A heard the splash of water; I knew it to be the sound of a beaver splashing water with its tail to warn others of a looming threat. I swam towards the sound and realized that the sound had been made by a female known as Flat Tail. We grew to care for each other quickly; for we both shared a love for this domain of our kind and a sense of devotion when it came to family.

The year before I had inherited a lodge from my father with his passing and it was in the darkened innards of that lodge where I and my mate started a family. By year’s end we already had a litter and now had many young who depended on us. Flat Tail found much joy in being a mother; and her happiness meant more to me then my own.

But this day, everything almost went from joy to and sense of tragedy.

My father told me when I was young of men who called themselves hunters and how they laid metal traps to capture a beaver then kill and skin it, selling the pelt for what humans called money; I had never seen a trap myself.

Early this morning; I and Flat Tail left our lodge where our young where protected and planned to spend the day using our teeth to strip bark off trees in the forest beside our lodge and feed our young.

I had my mate scampered across the muddy ground of the forest where trees towered over us, a mist had rolled across the land and now the forest was thick with a surreal fog.

A moment after we looked at each other; I heard the metallic snap and the squeal of pain Flat Tail made. And now we looked into each others eyes which both shed tears, Flat Tails paw caught in a steel trap and us both knowing that soon we would part ways and I would have to care for and raise our young without her.

I looked at her then closed my eyes as I pressed the bridge of my nose against hers and weeped as I prepared to leave her.

The from the mist came the voice of the man beast; his image concealed by the rolling fog. When I opened my eyes; I saw a man; some withered older human dressed in dark clothes made of leather and with thick beard and long hair.

He said, “What is that pitiful sound.”

I looked at him with hatred filling my heart; if we spoke the same language I would have told him to explain to my young that they would never see their mother again.

He walked towards us and now was standing over us and looking down on myself and my mate.

He then said, “Damn hunters.”

I watched as he knelt down and forced the jaws of the trap open and my mate’s paw was free. We both looked at him when then he stood up, shrugged and walked away.

He disappeared into the mist.

I and Flat Tail looked at each other for a moment, then I and she walked home as Flat Tail limped.

The mercy of that man who I would never see again, had saved my mate and spared our family profound grief. He had saved my family; and never could I thank him enough.


© Copyright 2019 Matthew Bissonnette. All rights reserved.

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