The beaver flood has finally frozen perfect ice, without a bump or a ripple. For the kids in town, it s Christmas in November. They wait, impatiently, for the right moment. Finally, it arrives: the full moon. They huff and puff through logging trails, farms, back roads and tamarack swamps, the powdery snow soaking pant legs and boots, till they see it their perfect ice, waiting. And the game is on.