Orphan beaver kit in July 2016 (Courtesy Wet Mountain Wildlife).
Beavers normally live in family groups, "colonies that may contain 2 to 12 individuals. The
colony is usually made up of the adult breeding pair, the kits of the
year, and kits of the previous year or years" (Source here).
You can't just drop a strange beaver in and expect it to be accepted.
So how can orphaned beavers be returned to the wild?
This month the Colorado Division of Parks and Wildlife returned this beaver and some others to a stream where no beavers currently live, but which is good potential habitat.
Supervised (not pursued!) by a game warden's dog, the beaver swims away (Colorado Parks and Wildlife).
It checks out its new habitat (Colorado Parks & Wildlife).
The reintroduced beavers are all unrelated, of course. They normally mate in mid-winter, with kits born in the spring. So what we have here is a sort of a singles bar for Castor canadensis, with the hope that at least one or two breeding pairs will be created.
This is the time of year when M. and I are back and forth to the little wildlife rehabilitation center not far away. One day last week it was to drop off cuttings of willow and lanceleaf cottonwood for the beaver they are rearing.
Gus peers into the beaver's enclosure. Is he jealous?
Gus the badger came earlier this spring. For a time he was the only animal — then came the beaver, some raccoons, a tiny bear cub, and the usual group of fawns (dropped off one of the last on yesterday, in fact).
He took time off from enlarging the den under a boulder in his enclosure to mumble at us through the fence between his home and the beaver's. Does he think that people should be bringing him treats (frozen mice) first?
I can't look at a beaver kit without thinking of Archie "Grey Owl" Belaney, though. An Englishman who re-invented himself as half-Apache, then lived among the Mohawks and married a Mohawk woman (wife #2 of three), he was born in East Sussex in 1888 and died in 1938 in Saskatchewan. He worked a number of years as a trapper, except for military service during World War One. As one biography notes,
Finally, Belaney became disgusted with the brutality involved in
trapping. This disgust was triggered by the revulsion his new companion,
a Mohawk woman named Gertrude Bernard, felt for the practice. When
Bernard, otherwise known as Anahareo, adopted and raised a pair of
beaver kittens whose mother had been killed in a trap, Belaney came to
recognize that animals he had trapped for most of his life were highly
intelligent and affectionate beings. After establishing a close bond
with the kittens, Belaney vowed never to trap another beaver and to work
to stop the wholesale slaughter of beavers.
Belaney henceforth devoted himself to writing of his experiences of the Canadian wilderness and of Native
culture in order to forward his conservationist message and to provide
an income to replace the one he had formerly earned by selling beaver
pelts. Belaney’s vision was to establish wildlife sanctuaries throughout
the North. He was also interested in prohibiting commercial traffic in
animal skins to protect animal life and to prevent native culture from
becoming commercialized and driven by European fashion trends. Belaney
thought that Native peoples, instead of killing animals for profit,
could work as conservationists and forest rangers in wildlife
sanctuaries.
In his own writings
Archibald Belaney presented himself as Grey Owl, a half-breed who was
more Indian than white. The popularity of his writings led to extended
lecture tours for Grey Owl in Britain and in North America. Grey Owl
played up his Indianness for these lectures, darkening his hair and skin
as was his custom and dressing in Native apparel. The Canadian
woodsman, with his fringes, feathers and beads provided a thrilling
sight on the streets and stages of England of the 1930s. (Although,
ironically, some of Grey Owl’s Indian costume was actually bought in
England, where it was sold as an exotic novelty from the colonies.) His
message was thrilling to an audience jaded with and troubled by many of
the traits of modern Western culture: "You are tired of civilization. I
come to offer you, what? A single green leaf."
Today, of course, he would be ripped up and hung out to dry by the Culture Police, his actual English identity spashed on websites like FakeIndians.
There were indeed some questions at the time as to how this "half-breed" could produce well-written books like The Men Of The Last Frontier, but people who wanted to believe, believed.
Buthis defenders can always point out that he did major work as a wildlife conservationist, both hands-on and as a writer and lecturer. (And there were few Apaches in 1920s Ontario and Manitoba to challenge his assumed identify, I suppose.) He was the first "celebrity conservationist" in Canada.