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Hello, everyone. This is Rhea

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with a quick note. This

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Now onto the show. This

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is Rhea. Welcome to Little Stories

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for Tiny People. When I was

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a kid, you could leave my

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house through the back door, tramp

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through the yard, make

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your way past the weeping

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willow tree, scramble

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down a rocky path, and

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find yourself at a creek. If

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you focused solely on the

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little fish darting through the

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water, you could imagine you

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were in the real wilderness,

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especially in the height of summer

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when everything was green and

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the leaves hid the houses

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beyond the trees. Our

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story takes place at

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a point where people and

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wilderness meet in the

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form of a forgotten

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object. Let's hear it.

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It's called Another Treasure

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in the Forest. Take it

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away Elise. Remember, there are no

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pictures. You're going to have to

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imagine them in your mind. You

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can imagine them however you want.

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Okay, here we go. The

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boys traced through the summer

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forest, their boots kicking up

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dust from the trail that

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wended through overgrown brambles. It

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was late afternoon, and the

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two brothers had been out

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all day exploring. They

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drank most of their water, eaten

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all of their snacks, and

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it seemed, exhausted

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their supply of

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laughter and conversation, too. They

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went along in comfortable

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silence. The

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elder boy, a natural leader,

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stepped and sat on

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a fallen log. Knowing

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his brother would follow, he withdrew

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his compass from his backpack

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and studied it, making

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sure they were on the right trail.

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The younger brother emptied everything

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from his pack, setting

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things on the ground here and

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there, rummaging for a forgotten bit

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of food to tide him over.

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Finding nothing, he collected his

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things and zipped his pack.

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The older boy took a last

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glance at the compass, and

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together they carried on through

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the woods. Neither

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of them noticed the object

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the younger boy had missed,

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the one that had rolled under

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the curve of the log. If

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it had been just a couple hours

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later in the day, he would

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have certainly noticed its absence.

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It's funny how we can overlook things

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when we don't see an immediate use for them.

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On guard, Raccoon called,

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hours later. later, brandishing a

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stick at a snail as it

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inched along a log under the

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light of the moon. Raccoon

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could have eaten the snail, would

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have eaten it just an hour earlier, but

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he had done so

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well at hunting, had in

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fact caught a frog, then a

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toad, then a grub in quick

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succession, that he'd switched to

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playing instead. The

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snail turned towards Raccoon,

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then teni quivering. No

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thank you, the snail said. No

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matter, Raccoon would find someone else

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to play with. He knew

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creatures often crept near the underside of

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logs. He'd caught plenty

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of toads this way, but

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as he ran his paw along the

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curve of the log, he

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hit up against... Not

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someone, but something.

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He knew without even getting a look at

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it, without even holding it,

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that it was not of

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the forest. The forest

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produced a dazzling array

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of things, thorns

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on brambly vines, the

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delicate hairs on a

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caterpillar, lost antlers,

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but it was rare to find an object

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this smooth. Raccoon

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grabbed it up to get a

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better look. With

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the moon's soft light bathing

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the forest, you could see it

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was bright red and made

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of a smooth, shiny material

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that did not come from

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trees. It had

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the shape of a branch, but

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it was all one thickness, and

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he could put his claws nearly all the way

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around it. At one

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end was a different material. Raccoon

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tapped a nail against

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it. Hmm. Vaccoon

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scanned the area around him.

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He felt protective of this mystery

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object, though he wasn't quite

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sure why. It

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was immobile, lifeless in

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his paws. It gave

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nothing away. He

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turned it over in his claws

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and found that there was something

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small and ridged, jutting

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out from it. Vaccoon

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pressed against the ridged area with

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a claw. Nothing happened.

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He tried to nudge it, and

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Raccoon had been completely absorbed

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in his task. Upon

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hearing a growl behind him, he

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whipped around, and at

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the same moment, his claw

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shifted the little ridged section

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on the object, and

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a tremendous beam of light

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came shooting out of it.

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Ha! Raccoon cried, and

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in that moment, in

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the span of perhaps one

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second, several thoughts

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moved through Raccoon's

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brain all at once.

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For one thing, he realized

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the growl had come from

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a bobcat who was now

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squinting in the harsh light. Secondly,

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Raccoon understood that he was

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holding a rather magical instrument.

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He had been right in

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imagining it was special, and

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the third thought that came to

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him was simply,

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I'll never

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get to keep this. Raccoon

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knew precisely what happened to

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things like this, what

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happened to treasures found

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in the forest. He

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was so caught up in this last

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thought of his that he

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barely noticed the bobcat

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who had been undoubtedly planning to

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eat it. him, scramble to

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its feet, and run

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away from Raccoon's magical light

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sword. Yes, magical

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light sword. That's what

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it was. Raccoon decided time

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was short. As soon

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as the committee… Oh, but

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Raccoon didn't want to think about that.

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Not yet. He decided

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to get as much time with

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his new found magical light

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sword as he possibly could. He

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went about having the time

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of his young life. It

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was especially fun to cast

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his beam of light on

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unsuspecting creatures. He'd turn it

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off by shifting the splits on

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the side, scamper about, spy a

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squirrel or something moving in the

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trees, point the thing at the

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creature, then flick it on, adding

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a helpful, unguard,

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with each surprise attack. It

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was funny to see the animal's

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reactions. Raccoon spotted

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an opossum gathering insects

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to eat. When the light

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switched on, the creature leapt a foot in

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the air. A look

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of utter terror on his

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face before running off, shrieking.

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Raccoon had excellent

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night vision. He could

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spot movement in the midnight forest

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many tree lengths away, but he

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still sometimes missed the details

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of things. So when the

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sun came up, after a night

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spent with his treasure, he was

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not surprised to find a detail

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had escaped him. There, on the

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bottom of the object, was

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a square cut into the

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smooth material. Raccoon

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went to the log where he'd

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found his treasure and sat

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down. He laid the

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object in his lap and

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clawed at the square with both paws.

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By now, the sun was up, and

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it was past time he'd usually be in

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bed. His mind was not

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as sharp as it was at midnight, his

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movements less precise. He

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felt sluggish as he struggled with

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the puzzling square. But

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Raccoon had a strange sense

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that this cut-out area

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on his magical lightsword was

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rather important, so he

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kept clawing at it. He'd

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been nowhere until he

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heard a rustling behind him and

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then a voice. What

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do we have here? There

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is so much more to this

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story. You can

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hear the full episode

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by becoming a Little

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Stories Premium subscriber. Visit

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littlestoriespremium.com to join. And

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thank you, as always,

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for listening in.