Ella clapped her hands. A ball of brown fur burst from the dense underbrush and tried to run up the rocky trail. “Be careful if you pick him up. He’s covered with burrs.” Samuel slipped a leather pack from his back. Earlier, he had tied two baskets to it. They dangled from the pack like tiny cradleboards. “I guess we should’ve left him home.” She knelt. The little dog wiggled into her arms and licked her face with sloppy kisses. She tucked his squirmy body under her right arm and walked over to Samuel. “He’s so playful.” She raised the hem of her brown skirt and hopped up on a flat rock. “How old is he?” “He’s three months and some, but too big for his britches. He acts like a full grown bear dog, and he’s been attacking Mother’s pet pig.” “He’ll learn.” She held the small dog up in front of her face. “He needs a doggy nap.” “He can nap while we pick.” Samuel pointed beyond the rocks. “There’s the berries. A hot fire burned out trees sometime in the past.
