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Tale of Timothy Turtle, The

<h2>XIII</h2> <h3>THE PLOT</h3> Of all the creatures that walked or swam or flew, Timothy Turtle liked boys the least of all. He said that if they ever did anything except throw stones he had never caught them at it. "It's a wonder"—he often remarked—"it's a wonder that there's a stone left anywhere along this creek. I've lived here a good many years; and no boy ever spied me sunning myself on a rock in the water without trying to hit me." Once in a great while some youngster was skillful enough to bounce a stone off Mr. Turtle's back. And when the old scamp flopped into the water he always heard a great whooping from the bank. At such times as likely as not Timothy had been awakened from a sound sleep. But when that jeering noise greeted his ears he knew at once what had struck him. It was a good thing for him that he had a hard back. Nevertheless it always made him angry to be disturbed when he was taking a nap. And some people said that if Timothy Turtle ever grabbed a boy by his great-toe, when he was in swimming, that youngster would limp for many a day thereafter. But the boys went in swimming just the same. Black Creek would have had to be alive with turtles to keep them out of it on a hot summer's day. Indeed Farmer Green often said that he wished his son Johnnie would spend half the time in the hayfield that he wasted around the creek. When questioned by his father, Johnnie said that there was an old turtle in Black Creek that he wanted to catch. "What are you going to do with him—make soup of him?" Farmer Green inquired solemnly. Johnnie shook his head. "I want to cut my initials on his shell and let him go," he explained. "Then if I catch him again when I'm grown up I'll know him when I find him.... I'll put the date under my initials, too," Johnnie added. Farmer Green laughed. "When you're grown up," he said, "you'll have something else to do besides catching snapping turtles. This afternoon you may carve your initials on the hay-rake and then take it over to the big meadow and play with it." For a few moments Johnnie Green couldn't help looking glum. He had intended to visit the creek that very afternoon. But now he knew that his father expected him to work—to work on one of the finest days of the whole summer! "I'll let you off all day to-morrow," Farmer Green said. "And you know there's that calf I told you I'd give you if you helped me with the haying." And then Johnnie actually smiled. <hr class="sorta" /> Well, the next morning was just as fine as the afternoon before. And Johnnie Green set off early for Black Creek, with his pockets stuffed full of cherries, because he was afraid he might get hungry. He ate a few of them on the way to the creek. But when he reached that delightful place he found something that made him forget what he had in his pockets. For there near the top of the bank, too far from the water to escape him—there lay Timothy Turtle himself, taking a sun-bath on the warm sand. <hr class="chapter" /> <h2>XIV</h2> <h3>CAUGHT!</h3> As soon as Johnnie Green saw Mr. Turtle he let out a loud whoop. And as soon as Mr. Turtle saw Johnnie, he scrambled up and made awkwardly for the water as fast as he could go. But Timothy's fastest, on land, was so slow that Johnnie Green stopped him in two seconds. Catching up a long stick, Johnnie thrust it in front of Timothy Turtle, who promptly seized it in his hooked jaws. Johnnie Green couldn't help laughing at him. "You're a stupid old fellow!" he cried. "You could bite that stick all day and not hurt me." But Timothy Turtle said never a word. He wished, however, that he could shift his grip to one of Johnnie's bare toes. He rather thought, if he could have done that, that Johnnie Green would give such a yell as had never before been heard in Pleasant Valley. But Johnnie was careful. After catching Mr. Turtle he hardly knew what to do with him. All summer long Johnnie had kept his jackknife sharp as a razor, ready to carve his initials on Mr. Turtle's hard shell whenever the chance came. The knife was in his pocket. There was Mr. Turtle before him on the sand. And yet Johnnie was puzzled. Close at hand his captive looked fiercer than he had appeared at a distance, lying on a rock in the creek. And his jaws had closed upon the stick in a vise-like hold. Johnnie winced when he tried to imagine how he would feel with Mr. Turtle fastened firmly to a toe or a finger. It was not a pleasant thought. But Johnnie Green soon had a happier one: why not turn the old scamp over upon his back? Johnnie had heard that a turtle was helpless when upset in that way. And he had already made up his mind to flop this one over when he realized that even with his captive upside down there was still a certain difficulty. To be sure, Mr. Turtle couldn't walk away. But he could bite just the same. And how was a boy going to carve his initials on anybody's back, when that person was lying on it? Johnnie Green saw that that plan wouldn't do at all. But he turned Timothy over, just for fun, upsetting him neatly by lifting him on the stick—for Timothy had not sense enough to let go of it in time to save himself. Johnnie stayed there only long enough to make sure that Timothy Turtle was unable to move. And he soon decided that the savage old rascal would have to lie on his back until somebody came along and tipped him over. Then Johnnie Green scampered away. To be sure, Mr. Turtle wriggled his legs, and twisted his neck about. But all his wiggling and twisting were of not the slightest help to him. It was the first time in his long life that he had ever found himself in that position on land. And he was both frightened and angry. Old Mr. Crow, who had a way of knowing when there was anything unusual going on, arrived in time to hear Timothy's remarks. And what he said about boys—and especially about Johnnie Green—made Mr. Crow catch his breath. <hr class="chapter" /> <h2>XV</h2> <h3>THE REDSKINS' WAY</h3> Of course Timothy Turtle was glad that Johnnie Green was gone. But he was far from happy, lying helpless on his back on the bank of Black Creek. He told Mr. Crow that he hoped Johnnie would forget to come back again—a remark which made old Mr. Crow laugh. Being very wise, he saw at once that Timothy Turtle knew next to nothing about boys. "I should think," Mr. Crow told Timothy, "you'd want Johnnie Green to return." "Why?" Timothy snapped out his question in an angry tone, as he lay there upside down and stared at old Mr. Crow, who sat in a tree near-by. "Well," Mr. Crow answered, "who'll set you on your feet again if he doesn't?" "Don't you worry about me!" Timothy Turtle sneered. "I'll right myself as soon as there's a freshet. If there's a big enough rain the creek will rise as high as I am now. And nobody could keep me on my back in the water." Old Mr. Crow actually snickered. "You might have to wait till next spring for a freshet," he said cheerfully. "And what would you eat meanwhile?" Having had a hearty meal of fish just before leaving the creek, Timothy Turtle hadn't once thought of eating. And naturally Mr. Crow's question troubled him. So he frowned frightfully. And he snapped his hooked jaws together, for he had to take something in his jaws and bite it, if it was no more than the air. "I suppose"—Mr. Crow remarked—"I suppose you would call that taking the air, eh?" And there was a merry twinkle in his eye. "Go away!" Timothy Turtle growled. But his guest declined to leave. "There's likely to be some fun here," he thought, "and I don't intend to miss it." <hr class="sorta" /> If Timothy Turtle was surprised, Mr. Crow certainly was not, when a little later Johnnie Green and another boy whom he called "Red" (on account of his hair) came hurrying up to the spot where Timothy Turtle lay. Upon the ground they dropped a number of things, such as pieces of rope, an old grain-sack, and an axe. "Goodness!" said Mr. Crow to himself, as he looked on. "I'm glad I'm not Timothy Turtle. It appears to me that he's going to have a terrible time." And Timothy himself seemed to think the same. He made savage passes at Johnnie and Red whenever they came near him. But they took good care to keep beyond his reach. On the whole their captive behaved in a most foolish manner. Instead of drawing his head as far as he could into his shell, he thrust his neck out as far as it would go. And that was exactly what the boys wanted him to do. Before Timothy Turtle—who was somewhat slow-witted—before he realized what their plan was, Johnnie Green and his friend Red had slipped one noose around his head and another around his body. And after turning their captive right side up they staked him out upon the sand so that he could not move. "There!" Johnnie Green cried when they had Timothy Turtle where they wanted him. "That's the way the Redskins do with their enemies." And his friend the red-haired boy danced something that might have been an Indian war dance. Anyhow, neither old Mr. Crow nor Timothy Turtle had ever seen anything like it. <hr class="chapter" /> <h2>XVI</h2> <h3>JOHNNIE GREEN'S INITIALS</h3> Timothy Turtle found himself in a very uncomfortable position, staked out as he was on the bank of Black Creek, with one rope about his body and another about his neck. And even then Johnnie Green was not satisfied. Though his friend Red insisted that their captive could do them no harm (saying, "How can he bite when he can't move his head?") Johnnie Green replied that he would "fix him" so there couldn't possibly be any accident. And taking the old grain-sack he had brought back with him, he wrapped it carefully around Timothy's head, till he looked for all the world as if he had the earache. "There!" Johnnie Green said, when he had finished. "He'll have to bite through that bag before he bites us; and I guess he'll find he has a pretty big mouthful." Then he pulled out his jackknife and felt its sharp edge with his thumb. "Lemme do it for you!" Red begged him, holding out his hand for the knife. But Johnnie Green had no such idea. "No!" he said firmly. "I've got to cut my initials myself." "He might get loose and grab you," the red-haired boy remarked hopefully. But Johnnie Green told him that he would risk that. "Which way are you going to cut them?" Red asked him. "What do you mean?" Johnnie inquired. "Are you going to make 'em read when he's going or coming?" Red explained. "I hadn't thought of that," Johnnie Green replied. "But I guess going would be better. Then if he stands up you can read 'em just the same, without any trouble." So Johnnie kneeled down beside Timothy Turtle. It took him some time to decide just where he would carve his initials on Timothy's shell. And he had about decided that the best place to put his mark on Mr. Turtle's back would be exactly in the middle of it, when he cried all at once, "Look, Red! Look!" "Whassamatter?" the red-haired boy wanted to know. "This is the queerest thing I ever heard of!" Johnnie exclaimed. "Here are my initials already cut!" Red could not believe him, until he had peered at Timothy's shell himself. And then he saw that what Johnnie had said was true. "There's a date, too," Johnnie pointed out. And he read it aloud. "That's more'n thirty years ago," he declared. But the red-haired boy laughed boisterously. "Shucks!" he jeered. "Somebody's been playin' a joke on you. Somebody knew you were lookin' for this old turtle and put your initials and that old date on him just to puzzle you." Johnnie Green didn't know exactly what to think. But probably he was no more upset than was Timothy Turtle, who was not having a good time at all. "I don't care if some one did catch this turtle first," Johnnie said at last. "I'm going to carve my mark on him just the same." So he began to cut "J. G." in the exact center of the back of Timothy Turtle, much to that old fellow's rage. And when Johnnie Green had finished the letters he cut the date below them. "What you goin' to do with him now?" Red asked Johnnie then. "Turn him loose!" Johnnie replied. "Aw—don't do that! Lemme have him!" Red coaxed. Johnnie Green said that he was sorry—but he intended to set his captive free, just as he had planned. He soon found that turning Mr. Turtle loose was no easy matter. Strange to say, Timothy Turtle did nothing to help. On the contrary, he made the task as hard as he could for Johnnie Green, trying his best to bite that young man. In the end Johnnie had to cut the rope that held Timothy's head. And when that furious old fellow at last found himself in Black Creek once more he still wore a noose of rope, like a collar, around his neck. <hr class="sorta" /> When Johnnie Green told his father about his adventure with Timothy Turtle, he had a great surprise. Farmer Green said that when he was just about Johnnie's age he had cut his initials on a turtle, down by the creek. Now, since Johnnie was named for his father, their initials had to be alike. So the J. G.—and the old date—that Johnnie had found must have been carved by Farmer Green when he was a youngster. Somehow, Johnnie found it very hard to imagine that his father had ever been a boy like himself and had spent his time playing near the creek, and carving his initials on the back of a turtle. "How old do you suppose that turtle is?" he asked his father. "Oh, he must be a regular old settler," Farmer Green declared. "He may have been around here when your grandfather was a boy, for all I know." "Do you really believe that?" Johnnie exclaimed. "Well," his father answered, "there's only one way to find out." "What's that?" Johnnie inquired eagerly. "Ask Mr. Turtle himself," Farmer Green replied with a smile. <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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