Alaska is well-known for its wildlife viewing opportunities. From the wolves in Denali to the bears of Katmai to the moose ambling down the streets of Anchorage, visitors are eager to see these representatives of wilderness.

But as majestic and awe-inspiring as these large mammals are, I think that the small and unseen critters are equally glorious, though less appreciated. Winter brings a magic carpet of snow, transporting one to worlds previously unseen. Miniature trails appear all around the house and shop and into the surrounding willows, revealing the busy lives of microtines and their predators.

One of these predators is the short-tailed weasel. Weasels are the smallest member of the mustelid family, which also includes mink, otter, wolverine and skunk. The short-tailed weasel, or ermine (Mustela erminea,) is found throughout North America as well as in parts of Europe, where it goes by the common name of stoat. With its smaller relative, Mustela nivalis, or least weasel, the short-tailed weasel terrorizes the small rodent species of Alaska. A single weasel can decimate the rodent population of its home range, forcing a relocation. In one research study, a short-tailed weasel killed seventeen rats in twenty minutes.

It is this extraordinary predatory efficiency that has earned the weasel its poor reputation. Our language and stories reflect the popular image of the weasel as sneaky, devilish and untrustworthy. People who shirk responsibility or create elaborate excuses are said to “weasel out” of their commitments. In stories such as Brian Jacques’ Redwall series, weasels (stoats) are on the side of the “bad guys” who threaten the safety and good life the gentle creatures (mice, rabbits, badgers, etc.) of Redwall Abbey. In the movie “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” the mob-like gangsters who terrorize Roger and his friends are – you guessed it – weasels.

There is no doubt that weasels are efficient predators. Their long sinuous bodies enable weasels to follow rodents into their homes. A weasel will often use such a burrow for its own hideaway after devouring all the previous inhabitants, lining the new den with the fur from its kills. Not a very “nice” way to hunt, but it gives the weasel an enormous advantage over larger predators such as foxes and raptors that also hunt rodents. It is an advantage they need. With their high metabolic rate - they have a resting pulse of 400 to 500 beats per minute - keeping warm during an Alaskan winter requires an enormous amount of food. A weasel must eat five to ten rodent sized meals a day, consuming up to forty percent of its body weight. Perhaps it is this necessity that contributes to a legendary ferocity all out of proportion to size. The small size of this predator makes it fair game for fox and raptors itself, but its ferocity and quickness make it rarely so. Starvation is a much more terrifying predator .

If a weasel is able to avoid predators and has a reliable food supply, it can live up to seven years. Rarely do they reach such a ripe old age, however. Rodent populations can fluctuate widely from year to year, depending on weather patterns and food sources, and without a good food supply, the short-tailed weasel will succumb to starvation. The average life expectancy for the short-tailed weasel is one to one and a half years. Just enough time for a female to produce one litter of young in the spring. The litter size ranges from four to thirteen, but the average is six. Newborns are helpless - blind, hairless, toothless - but by the time they are ten to twelve weeks old, they are hunting for themselves. Females reach adult size as early as four months old, though males are not full grown until about ten months. The short-tailed weasel exchanges its brown summer pelage for a pure white winter coat with a black-tipped tail each year. As with other animals who use change their color to provide camouflage, short-tailed weasels are often difficult to see. Though bold creatures, they are also quick and busy, and one rarely gets more than a quick glimpse.

I have had the good fortune to observe an ermine at close range for extended periods of time. The ease with which he moved light-footedly across the snow, his long slender body radiating a natural grace a dancer would envy, captivated me. There was no hint of the evil villain portrayed in most animal stories. Rather, I was in the presence of a highly-skilled, curious, and intelligent creature going about the business of life.

Though weasels do not have the reputation or glamour of Alaska’s moose, bears, or wolves, they are fascinating critters that are enjoyable to observe should one have the opportunity.