There was but one Snapping Turtle in the pond, and he was the only
person there who had ever been heard to wish for another. He had not
always lived there, and could just remember leaving his brothers and
sisters when he was young. "I was carried away from my people," he said,
"and kept on land for a few days. Then I was brought here and have made
it my home ever since."
One could tell by looking at him that he was related to the Mud Turtles.
He had upper and lower shells like them, and could draw in his head and
legs and tail when he wanted to. His shells were gray, quite the color
of a clay-bank, and his head was larger than those of the Mud Turtles.
His tail was long and scaly and pointed, and his forelegs were large and
warty. There were fine, strong webs between his toes, as there were
between the toes of his relatives, the Mud Turtles.
When he first came to live in the pond, people were sorry for him, and
tried to make him feel at home. He had a chance to win many friends and
have all his neighbors fond of him, but he was too snappy. When the
water was just warm enough, and his stomach was full, and he had slept
well the night before, and everything was exactly as he wished it to
be,--ah, then he was a very agreeable Turtle, and was ready to talk in
the most gracious way to his neighbors. That was all very well. Anybody
can be good-natured when everything is exactly right and he can have his
own way. But the really delightful people, you know, are the ones who
are pleasant when things go wrong.
It was a Mud Turtle Father who first spoke to him. "I hope you'll like
the pond," said he. "We think it very homelike and comfortable."
"Humph! Shallow little hole!" snapped the one who had just come. "I bump
my head on the bottom every time I dive."
"That is too bad," exclaimed the Mud Turtle Father. "I hope you dive
where there is a soft bottom."
"Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't," answered the Snapping Turtle. "I
can't bother to swim down slowly and try it, and then go back to dive.
When I want to dive, I _want_ to dive, and that's all there is to it."
"Yes," said the Mud Turtle Father. "I know how it is when one has the
diving feeling. I hope your head will not trouble you much, and that you
will soon be used to our waters." He spread his toes and swam strongly
away, pushing against the water with his webbed feet.
"Humph!" said the Snapping Turtle to himself. "It is all very well to
talk about getting used to these waters, but I never shall. I can hardly
see now for the pain in the right side of my head, where I bumped it. Or
was it the left side I hit? Queer I can't remember!" Then he swam to
shallow water, and drew himself into his shell, and lay there and
thought how badly he felt, and how horrid the pond was, and what poor
company his neighbors were, and what a disagreeable world this is for
Snapping Turtles.
The Mud Turtle Father went home and told his wife all about it. "What a
disagreeable fellow!" she said. "But then, he is a bachelor, and
bachelors are often queer."
"I never was," said her husband.
"Oh!" said she. And, being a wise wife, she did not say anything else.
She knew, however, that Mr. Mud Turtle was a much more agreeable fellow
since he had married and learned to think more of somebody else than of
himself. It is the people who think too much of themselves you know, who
are most unhappy in this world.
The Eels also tried to be friendly, and, when he dove to the bottom,
called to him to stay and visit with them. "You must excuse us from
making the first call," they said. "We go out so little in the daytime."
"Humph!" said the Snapping Turtle. "Do you good to get away from home
more. No wonder your eyes are weak, when you lie around in the mud of
the dark pond-bottom all day. Indeed, I'll not stay. You can come to see
me like other people."
Then he swam away and told the Clams what he had said, and he acted
quite proud of what was really dreadful rudeness. "It'll do them good to
hear the truth," said he. "I always speak right out. They are as bad as
the Water-Adder. They have no backbone."
The Clams listened politely and said nothing. They never did talk much.
The Snapping Turtle was mistaken though, when he said that the Eels and
the Water-Adder had no backbone. They really had much more than he, but
they wore theirs inside, while his was spread out in the shape of a
shell for everybody to see.
He did not even try to keep his temper. He became angry one day because
Belostoma, the Giant Water-Bug, ate something which he wanted for
himself. His eyes glared and his horny jaws snapped, and he waved his
long, pointed, scaly tail in a way which was terrible to see. "You are a
good-for-nothing bug," he said. "You do no work, and you eat more than
any other person of your size here. Nobody likes you, and there isn't a
little fish in the pond who would be seen with you if he could help it.
They all hide if they see you coming. I'll be heartily glad when you get
your wings and fly away. Don't let any of your friends lay their eggs in
this pond. I've seen enough of your family."
Of course this made Belostoma feel very badly. He was not a popular bug,
and it is possible that if he could have had his own way, he would have
chosen to be a Crayfish or a Stickleback, rather than what he was. As
for his not working--there was nothing for him to do, so how could he
work? He had to eat, or he would not grow, and since the Snapping Turtle
was a hearty eater himself, he should have had the sense to keep still
about that. Belostoma told the Mud Turtles what the Snapping Turtle had
said, and the Mud Turtle Father spoke of it to the Snapping Turtle.
By that time the Snapping Turtle was feeling better natured and was very
gracious. "Belostoma shouldn't remember those things," said he, moving
one warty foreleg. "When I am angry, I often say things that I do not
mean; but then, I get right over it. I had almost forgotten my little
talk with him. I don't see any reason for telling him I am sorry. He is
very silly to think so much of it." He lifted his big head quite high,
and acted as though it was really a noble thing to be ugly and then
forget about it. He might just as sensibly ask people to admire him for
not eating when his stomach was full, or for lying still when he was too
tired to swim.
When the Mud Turtle Mother heard of this, she was quite out of patience.
"All he cares for," said she, "is just Snapping Turtle, Snapping Turtle,
Snapping Turtle. When he is good-natured, he thinks everybody else ought
to be; and when he is bad-tempered he doesn't care how other people
feel. He will never be any more agreeable until he does something kind
for somebody, and I don't see any chance of that happening."
There came a day, though, when the pond people were glad that the
Snapping Turtle lived there. Two boys were wading in the edge of the
pond, splashing the water and scaring all the people who were near them.
The Sticklebacks turned pale all over, as they do when they are badly
frightened. The Yellow Brown Frog was so scared that he emptied out the
water he had saved for wetting his skin in dry weather. He had a great
pocket in his body filled with water, for if his skin should get dry he
couldn't breathe through it, and unless he carried water with him he
could not stay ashore at all.
The boys had even turned the Mud Turtle Father onto his back in the
sunshine, where he lay, waving his feet in the air, but not strong
enough to get right side up again. The Snapping Turtle was taking a nap
in deep water, when the frightened fishes came swimming toward him as
fast as their tails would take them. "What is the matter?" said he.
"Boys!" cried they. "Boys! The dreadful, splashing, Turtle-turning
kind."
"Humph!" said the Snapping Turtle. "I'll have to see about that. How
many are there?"
"Two!" cried the Sticklebacks and Minnows together.
"And there is only one of me," said the Snapping Turtle to himself. "I
must have somebody to help me. Oh, Belostoma," he cried, as the Giant
Water-Bug swam past. "Help me drive those boys away."
"With pleasure," said Belostoma, who liked nothing better than this kind
of work. Off they started for the place where the boys were wading. The
Snapping Turtle took long, strong strokes with his webbed feet, and
Belostoma could not keep up with him. The Snapping Turtle saw this.
"Jump onto my back," cried he. "You are a light fellow. Hang tight."
Belostoma jumped onto the Snapping Turtle's clay-colored shell, and when
he found himself slipping off the back end of it, he stuck his claws
into the Snapping Turtle's tail and held on in that way. He knew that he
was not easily hurt, even if he did make a fuss when he bumped his head.
As soon as they got near the boys, the Snapping Turtle spoke over his
back-shell to Belostoma. "Slide off now," said he, "and drive away the
smaller boy. Don't stop to talk with these Bloodsuckers."
So Belostoma slid off and swam toward the smaller boy, and he ran out
his stout little sucking tube and stung him on the leg. Just then the
Snapping Turtle brought his horny jaws together on one of the larger
boy's feet. There was a great splashing and dashing as the boys ran to
the shore, and three Bloodsuckers, who had fastened themselves to the
boy's legs, did not have time to drop off, and were carried ashore and
never seen again.
[Illustration: THERE WAS A GREAT SPLASHING AND DASHING. _Page 117_]
"There!" said the Snapping Turtle. "That's done. I don't know what the
pond people would do, if you and I were not here to look after them,
Belostoma."
"I'm glad I happened along," said the Giant Water-Bug quietly, "but you
will have to do it all after this. I'm about ready to leave the pond. I
think I'll go to-morrow."
"Going to-morrow!" exclaimed the Snapping Turtle. "I'm sorry. Of course
I know you can never come back, but send your friends here to lay their
eggs. We mustn't be left without some of your family."
"Thank you," said Belostoma, and he did not show that he remembered
some quite different things which the Snapping Turtle had said before,
about his leaving the pond. And that showed that he was a very wise bug
as well as a brave one.
"Humph!" said the Snapping Turtle. "There is the Mud Turtle Father on
his back." And he ran to him and pushed him over onto his feet. "Oh,
thank you," cried the Mud Turtle Mother. "I was not strong enough to do
that."
"Always glad to help my neighbors," said the Snapping Turtle. "Pleasant
day, isn't it? I must tell the fishes that the boys are gone. The poor
little fellows were almost too scared to swim." And he went away with a
really happy look on his face.
"There!" said the Mud Turtle Mother to her husband. "He has begun to
help people, and now he likes them, and is contented, I always told you
so!"