At the start of the season, a Weasel was busily chasing bugs in a field.
A Snake, sunning itself high in a nearby tree by the stream, spied the Weasel from afar.
Descending gracefully from his lofty perch, the Snake slithered toward the Weasel. The Weasel, startled, leaped back and said, “Not so fast, clever Snake. Stay where you are. It’s hot and sunny, and why would you leave your high perch unless you intended to eat me?”
The Snake, eyes keen and sharp, replied, “You are indeed a wise Weasel. But today, I haven’t descended to eat you. I have been observing you from my tree all morning and noticed you haven't caught a single bug.”
The Weasel, embarrassed by the Snake’s observation, said, “If you have a better way, tell me. This is the only method I know. Though it consumes my entire day and all my energy, I manage to eat well enough.”
The Snake, smiling, spoke of a stream beneath his tree where bugs pass in abundance along a path. Many creatures use it. He taught the Weasel the art of using words and guile to hunt. Thus, the Snake revealed that through cleverness, patience, and persuasion, one could secure a meal with far less effort.
The Weasel, armed with newfound wisdom, set off with a renewed purpose: to work smarter, not harder, for his sustenance.
Shortly after, a Beetle was walking along the stream with his daily dung. He dreamed of poopier pastures beyond the far side of the stream, imagining mounds of manure where he could settle and raise a family. His true fate, however, was far from his mind.
As he walked whimsically, the Beetle encountered the wily Weasel, wicked and cunning. The Weasel said to the Beetle, “I see you walking with that dung. You are a good and useful Beetle. Do you dream of poopier pastures on the far side of the stream?”
The Beetle knew he should be wary of the Weasel, for they eat Beetles. But today, he was compelled by the Weasel’s apparent insight into Beetle Heaven. “Mr. Weasel, what would you know of the other side?”
The Weasel looked at the Beetle with kind, dark eyes and said, “Your cousin, the water Beetle, knows how to cross this stream. If he were you, he would be on the other side already, enjoying the poopier pastures.”
The Beetle, greatly offended, demanded the Weasel show him the way across the river. The Weasel told the Beetle, “Take a large leaf from the nearby trees, place it in the stream, and climb upon it, just like your water cousin.”
Following the Weasel's advice, the Beetle did this and drifted downstream until he was equidistant from either bank. At that moment, the Weasel swam into the stream, reached the Beetle, lifted the leaf, rolled it up, and ate the Beetle spring roll. Pleased with his ruse, the Weasel spent the rest of the day gathering wheatgrass, hoping to trade it for a tastier treat.
The next day, a Grasshopper hopped down the stream. As he admired the local flora and fauna, he came across the dastardly Weasel. The Weasel, seeing the Grasshopper’s fine taste for wheatgrass, knew hunger could grow in an instant with the right coaxing. The Weasel offered the Grasshopper his delectable shoots, saying, "Mr. Grasshopper, this wheatgrass is finer than any you’ve ever devoured; it glistens like fresh dew on spring dawn's light. Only kings, gods, and grasshoppers such as yourself eat this particular wheatgrass."
The Grasshopper, eyes perked up, replied affirmatively, “Mr. Weasel! I am a noble Grasshopper, and I must have some of your wheatgrass now, sir!”
“You cannot wait, can you, Grasshopper?” replied the Weasel, giddy with joy at his honed sales technique's effectiveness.
“Pardon my request, Weasel, but you still have not given me the goods. I cannot wait to try what you say is for gods and kings,” said the Grasshopper.
The Weasel led the Grasshopper to his store of wheatgrass. He had cleverly placed it on a bed of sap to trap the Grasshopper’s legs. The Grasshopper, upon seeing the magical product, voraciously dove for it and promptly got stuck. That night, the Weasel dined on sweet and sappy Grasshopper.
The Weasel was pleased, fed, and ready for another day of bounty. The next day, an Ant was walking along a fallen log, minding nothing but the feel of the moss underfoot and the sense of mystery ahead. He was searching for food and anything to strengthen the colony’s tunnels, which were devastated nightly by rains. The Weasel saw the Ant deep in thought and asked, “What troubles you, Ant? Why are you thinking so deeply?”
The Ant, thinking the Weasel a fine-looking digger, thinker, and fellow, replied with enthusiasm, “I’m searching for the thing that’s going to save my colony... and also looking for food! I’m to find a Hero like the Elder said!”
“What do you mean, Hero?” asked the Weasel.
“Every day we dig in the soft dirt and build our tunnels, and every night they get washed away by the rains. The Elder Ants sent me to find a Hero with a solution to save our larvae for good. Would you happen to be the Hero that can save us?”
The Weasel, grinning slyly, said, “Why yes, I am that hero. Lead me to your colony, and I will do everything in my power to cure the problem.”
The Ant, thinking this the best news he’d heard in a long time, gleefully led the Weasel to the colony and invited the whole colony to see the hero he’d brought. When the colony gathered, the Weasel presented himself as an expert digger and tunnel engineer. He instructed the Ants to build a series of tunnels leading into a reservoir to divert the floods. This all sounded very good to the Ants, so everyone, including the Weasel, helped complete the project before the night’s rains.
That night, when the rains came, the Weasel’s plan was revealed: all the tunnels flooded, and the entire colony was flushed into the reservoir. Trapped, the Ants were the perfect meal, which the Weasel lapped up in seven greedy gulps. The Weasel, now fat and content, fell asleep in the ruins of the ant colony under the old dead hollow tree.
The Snake, watching the Weasel from his tree the whole time, patiently waited for the Weasel to be sound asleep, dreaming, fat, happy, clever, and unaware. Then the Snake approached.
The Snake preferred fattened Weasels and enjoyed his weekly meal.
THE END.