“To me it was,” admitted the fat boy, unconcernedly. “I made up my mind I ought to capture that fellow. They say snappers are death to frogs, and ducks, and even fish; but as I didn’t dare touch the crawler, I hunted up a stout stick and tried to turn him over. My stars! he struck it hard, and held on like a bulldog, but I managed to drag him further up on the bank. I was wondering what I should do with him when Peleg came along, and saw what I had found. He told me you could eat snappers; and while I drew his head as far out as I could,—I mean the turtle’s, of course,—him holding on to the stick like grim death, why, Peleg used his knife to end his troubles. So here he is or she is, I don’t know which; and if Ralph says the same as Peleg did, and that snappers can be eaten, why we stand to have turtle steak and turtle soup.”
“He held on like a bull-dog.”
Ralph admitted that he had partaken of snapping turtle diet on more than one occasion, and found it fairly to his liking, though he did not really “hanker” after the dish any more than he did frogs’ legs.
“These other red-marked paddlers are better,” he told them. “Though I guess none of them come up to the green turtle found in the Southern waters near the coast, or the diamond-back terrapin of Maryland and Virginia. But I’m glad you got this one, Tubby, because these snappers do a heap of damage, and are of no earthly good. I’ve lost dozens of young goslings and ducks through this fellow and his kind.”
“One thing sure,” Tubby went on to say, with apparent delight, “today has been a red-letter day for hauling in a mess of food of all sorts from the water. Just to think, we’ve got fresh fish, frogs’ legs, and turtle to choose from.”
“Better jot it down in your diary as Marine Day,” laughed Andy.
“We’ll leave the turtle for tomorrow,” suggested Ralph. “Two kinds of fish ought to be enough for one meal. I’ll take the bass every time. But here’s Peleg, ready to do the job of getting them fixed for the pan,” as the half-grown farm boy made his appearance.
“’Tain’t fair, let me tell you,” complained Tubby. “Here I went and prepared my catch, all but the turtle, so they could be dipped in cracker crumbs, and dropped in sizzling hot lard, or else fried alongside salt port. You fellows get off too easy by having Peleg do the work.”
He forgot all about this, however, in asking after the particulars of the fishing trip; and, upon learning how the bass bit so fiercely, Tubby declared he would like to make one of the next party that visited the lake.