“ow, ow, ow!” wailed tad from way up the bank in the pickery things. and he had the tip of his tail in his mouth, so you could hardly make out what he was saying. “ow, ow, my tail’s bitten right off!” “do you think it’s really as bad as all that?” asked nibble anxiously. tad’s eyes were bulging so wide that they showed white all round them when he went bouncing off the flat stone. if he were really truly hurt it wouldn’t seem so funny. they liked him.
“let’s go and see,” said the doctor, and he scuffled up the bank as fast as he could travel. “did that turtle really bite you?” he asked. “let me look so i’ll know what kind of a remedy to go after.”
so tad took his tail out of his mouth and showed it to the doctor. he wouldn’t look at it himself for fear there would be blood on it. tad’s very timid that way. and doctor muskrat examined it carefully. at last he said: “why, tad coon, there’s nothing wrong with this tail.”
“isn’t there?” asked tad in a relieved voice. “it felt as if there was. it truly did.” so he took back his tail and combed the hair out and examined it most carefully with his little handy-paws, but all he could find was a tiny weeny bare spot at the very tip where grandpop snapping turtle had pulled the hair out. “that’s good,” he smiled with a satisfied air. he wasn’t the least bit ashamed of having made such a fuss about nothing.
he wasn’t even thinking about it. pretty soon he burst right out laughing. “ho, ho! that old turtle’s got tickly coon hairs in his mouth. i hope they set him choking.” then he cocked his head on one side and the most mischievous sparkle came into his dark brown eyes which peer out from a band of dark brown fur that lies across his nose like a pair of goggles. “i’ll get even with him,” he chuckled. “i’ll find his nest when his wife comes out to lay her eggs on the beach and i’ll eat every last one of them.”
“that won’t be till june,” answered doctor muskrat. “you’d better find something else in the meantime. i know where there are some marshmallow roots and we’ll all share them.”
“that sounds fine,” tad agreed. “just wait a minute.”
“what do you s’pose he’s up to now?” asked nibble curiously.
but he knew in just a moment. tad found himself a nice big rock. and he shoved and pushed and tugged and grunted until he worked it out on the edge of the flat stone and sent it crashing down on top of grandpop snapping turtle.
kerchug! went the rock. and that was the last straw that broke grandpop snapping turtle’s temper. he came flopping up on land as fast as he could travel. and he had his wicked eye on tad coon.
swish, went doctor muskrat back into the water. that was the safest place for him because he can swim as fast as any one and a little bit faster than any turtle who ever flipped a paddle. bounce, went nibble rabbit clear through the woods and past the brushpile and out into the head of the broad field before he stopped to listen. scritch, scratch, went lazy tad coon to the top of a big stump where grandpop snapping turtle couldn’t reach him. and that turtle was digging in his claws and tearing up the earth as he marched round and round it, reaching up his long neck and hissing: “just you wait till i get hold of your leg with my bite that never lets go!”
“grandpop’s lost his temper,” said nibble to himself. “something’s sure to happen. it always does. it happened to chatter squirrel and silvertip the fox, and mrs. hooter, and the red cow——” here he pricked up his ears, for watch the dog was barking at the other end of the pasture. and watch had tommy peele and tommy’s big cousin sandy and trailer the hound with him. so he signalled watch to hurry. then he hurried back to hide in the pickery things where he could see what that happening was going to be. he was so curious he forgot all about tad coon.
but tad coon hadn’t forgotten about himself. he hadn’t lost his temper. as soon as he heard the dogs coming he watched his chance while grandpop snapping turtle was on the far side of the stump and jumped over to the nearest tree. and you should have seen his little handy-paws shin up it!
so all tommy peele and his cousin sandy found was a spitting, swearing old shellback marching round and round that stump.
“oh-h-h!” shouted sandy. “turtle soup for supper. um-m!”
“don’t hurt him!” cried tommy. “he doesn’t do any harm.”
“doesn’t he?” exclaimed sandy. “he just spoils all the fishing in your pond, and he’s simply death on muskrats.”
of course that settled tommy peele, because doctor muskrat was his friend.
so sandy took up a long stick and held it out in front of grandpop snapping turtle. “ah-h-h!” he hissed triumphantly. and he grabbed it right in the middle with his bite that never lets go.
“pick up the other end,” said sandy. tommy did, and there they had the turtle hanging between them, so blazing angry and so proud of his bite that won’t let go, that he never noticed that they were carrying him farther and farther away from his pond. and that was the last nibble ever saw of him.
