Little Weasel’s Dream

Little Weasel’s Dream by Halladay Quist
It was late fall. The whortleberries were ripe for picking. A party of Kootenai women decided to travel on horseback
way up in the mountains behind Lone Pine, where the children could play and the berries were particularly sweet.
After hours of picking, one of the women noticed that she hadn’t seen her son, Little Weasel, for quite some time.
She scanned the horizon with no sight of him.  Little Weasel was having such a marvelous time in the forest, playing
in the bear grass, dangling from the branches, chasing the beetle bugs, such a time that he hadn’t realized he had
wandered off, far in the woods.
Little Weasel’s Dream
When he realized he was lost he began to call out desperately. He ran through the woods, searching for his mother,
for anyone, for anything that could point him in the right direction.  He ran to the top of closest ridge and saw nothing
that even looked familiar.  He soon became exhausted and sat down to cry.
Little Weasel’s Dream
Without warning, a big black bear came running towards him, out of the woods, branches breaking and crackling
along the way. Little Weasel cried out, an echoing screech that traveled through the forest.
Little Weasel’s Mother heard him and ran to him.  She found him in the bear grass, fast asleep in the midst of a bad
dream. She picked him up and held him gently in her arms, happy that he was safe.
Aren’t you glad it was a dream, Little Weasel
Not everything is what it seems,
Hope this time you learned your lesson, oh little weasels
Not everything is what it seems
Little Weasel’s Dream
Little Weasel’s Dream