. . . I came to a place where a grizzly had torn up some sod in digging for a ground squirrel, and I took note of it, but then I came to where the bear had gone after a squirrel seriously. It was an excavation. The tremendous power of the bear was evident, and I was uneasy. I was glad I had my rifle.
Then heading home, I dreamed. As I was walking down through a grove of spruce, I imagined myself stopping for a rest. I imagined a wolf. The wolf trotted through the forest toward me, unaware of my presence. He came very close. "Hello brother wolf," I said, surprising myself. It was not a natural thing for me to say. I am not good at conversing with animals, but I have a brother who is, and I spoke mostly for him. I also wanted to say something before the wolf came too close. The wolf looked up startled, and turned to run off, but paused for an instant. He must have been held by some quality of my voice. There was something in his attitude, in that instant of arrested motion that struck me.
"Reincarnation?" I said aloud. It may have been the wrong word. I was not sure that reincarnation was what I had seen. I spoke partly because I was a little scared of the wolf -- just whistling in the dark -- and partly because I wanted to say something more to him before he ran off. . . .--KENNETH BROWER
[Photograph: Gilbert Staender Male short-tail weasel(Arctic Ermine)]