As with all beavers, Dooro was endowed with an almost miraculous ability to stay underwater. He had outer ears he could fold shut and flaps of skin in his nose he could close to keep water out. His oversized lungs allowed him to submerge for as long as fifteen minutes and to swim underwater half a mile. When he dove his heartbeat slowed automatically and his body prepared to absorb what to other animals would be poisonous amounts of carbon dioxide. But Miena was not so endowed. Certainly she was able to dive for minutes at a time, but that was under conditions where she could see her surroundings and had immediate access to the surface. Dooro realized there was a problem well before he had reached the entrance to his lodge.
Almost halfway through the tunnel Miena panicked. Pushing against the walls with her webbed toes, she sought to swim faster but only stirred up mud, twigs and debris that clouded the passageway. And once she couldn't see she became disoriented, thrashing about in terror. Sensing trouble, Dooro turned and swam back to her, pushing and guiding her back out of the tunnel with his chest and forepaws until she was into clear water. She stopped floundering and hesitated only a moment before rushing to the surface to draw in deep breaths of air. She made her way to the bank and lay exhausted.
It didn't help that Dooro caught a disapproving glance from his father who was working on the dam. Dooro was overwhelmed with shame. "Miena," he exclaimed. "I really thought you could do it."
"Ohhhh," she gasped. "I'll never do that again. Even if I was chased by 100 turtles I could never, ever enter a tunnel again."
"I'm sorry." Dooro didn't know what else to say.
"I know you're sorry," Miena reassured him. "You just thought ducks are like beavers -- and we're not. I'm not. Just don't ever mention that horrible place again.