“Yes, so it is,” agreed his father. For he had pulled up enough of the anchor and rope to show a great snapping turtle with one of his flippers caught on the rope, just where it was fastened to the “mud hook,” as sailors sometimes call an anchor.
“Can you pull him on board, Daddy?” asked Teddy.
“I don’t know that I want to,” was his father’s answer. “He looks like a pretty ugly customer.”
A moment later the turtle gave a wriggle and dropped off into the water with a splash. Pulling him up had loosened his hold on the anchor rope. Then Mr. Martin let go the rope, the anchor dropped back to the bottom of the river and held in the mud, bringing the boat to a stop.
“Now I guess we’re all right,” said Mr. Martin, as he went down with Ted, who looked to see the turtle rise again, but it did not.
“What was it?” Mrs. Martin wanted to know.
“A big snapping turtle, crawling along on the bottom of the river, got caught in our anchor and rope,” explained her husband. “He kept right on crawling, pulled up our anchor from the mud, and swam away.
“He was so powerful that he was able to tow our boat,” went on Mr. Martin. “It wasn’t hard to do, once he got it started, and being on the bottom he could get a good hold for his feet, which have claws on them. When I pulled up the rope I loosened his hold.”
“If we could keep that turtle, and train him, he would pull the boat for us, and we wouldn’t have to use gasoline,” said Teddy.
“I’m afraid we’d be several years getting where we want to go,” laughed his father. “A turtle is pretty slow.”