Number Two pushed him back. “No, you!”
The two gators turned to Number Three. “I’m not diving in there,” he said, backing away.
Old Stump ignored them. “Do you know what, Present? Old Stump is glad he waited to eat you. Red-ear is one of his favorite treats.” He took his claw off Lucky Gal.
“You’d better look behind you,” she said.
“Oh, no. Old Stump isn’t falling for another one of your tricks.” He opened his great jaws and caught Lucky between his teeth.
“It’s no trick,” said a voice behind him.
Old Stump whirled around. Shoulder to shoulder, Seezer, Grub, and Number Four faced him. Bartleby was on Seezer’s back. The rest of the friends were gathered behind them.
“Let Lucky Gal go now!” Bartleby demanded.
Seezer clapped his jaws. “Or this time, I’ll finish what I ssstarted.”
Grub snapped his tail. “And I’ll help, bro’.”
“S-so will I.” Number Four was shaking so hard, Bartleby thought he heard his teeth rattling.
“You dithering traitor!” Old Stump whipped his tail at Number Four. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Go join your brothers over there!” He flicked his tail toward the three guard gators that were hovering on the rocky ledge.
Still trembling, Number Four stepped forward. His tail dragged along the ground as he turned toward the rock where the others were waiting. Bartleby was disappointed in the cowardly gator, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, too.
As Number Four passed by the glowering Old Stump, he raised his yellow-tipped tail as if he were surrendering. Crack! Before the old giant guessed what was happening, Number Four snapped his tail across the great, smelly snout.
“Yeeeeooow!” Old Stump bellowed. As his jaws opened, Lucky Gal dropped onto the mud bank. Dragging her injured web, she scuttled out of reach.
“MY PRESENT!” Old Stump sprang toward Number Four. But before he could sink his jaws into the smaller gator’s neck, Seezer leaped between them. Old Stump’s teeth bit into Seezer’s neck instead. Seezer bellowed and tried to pull away. But the giant gator had him pinned down.
At the sound of Seezer’s shriek, Grub jumped on Old Stump’s back and bit the gator’s tough neck. “Hey, Four! C‘mon, bro’!” he called.
Number Four leaped onto Old Stump’s tail. The appendage was like a creature with a mind of its own. It battered Number Four’s back. It bashed his skull. But Number Four kept his jaws tightly clenched on it.
Still Old Stump didn’t let go of Seezer. Bartleby saw a stream of dark, red blood running down his friend’s throat.
“Lucky! The outer toes on his hind feet are his tender spots. You take one and I’ll take the other,” Bartleby shouted. He scrambled around the back of the alligator and tried to latch onto the sensitive toe. Old Stump’s nails clawed and stabbed at Bartleby. But the red-ear kept trying until he got a firm grip with his jaws. Then he chomped as hard as he could.
“YEEEOOOWWWW!” As Old Stump shrieked, his jaws opened and Seezer rolled free.
Bartleby and Lucky Gal kept on biting down. So did Grub and Number Four. With his webs, Big-Big began smacking the giant gator’s snout. Quickfoot jumped on his head. Curly wrapped herself tightly around his neck. Plume and Billy dove down and pecked at his back. Digger and Baskin snapped at his belly.
“LET ME GOOOOOOOOOOO!” Old Stump burst free and began running toward the river. Bellowing, honking, grunting, and croaking, the friends chased after him. When the terrible trio saw them coming, they dove into the water. Number Four gave Old Stump a last bite on the tail—and the reeking gator leaped in after them.
Splash! A great wave slopped over the bank. Below, the water foamed and churned. Then the river began rolling steadily once more.
“Welcome, Cousins,” came a voice from the river. “Won’t you come down to the bottom and help me eat the tender young crappie I’ve caught?”
32
True Home
Under a pink-and-purple sunset, the residents of Friendship Hole gathered on the mud bank. As he gazed at the quiet water, Bartleby felt a contentment he’d never experienced before. He was finally beginning to understand what it meant to be a real bayou turtle. Not that it was easy! Life here was full of challenge and danger. The creatures didn’t always get along. But figuring out how to overcome problems and outsmart enemies made Bartleby happy to be alive.
“I want to thank you all for coming to my rescue,” Lucky Gal said. “I thought I might not live to see my eggs hatch.”
“Eggs!” Big-Big leaped up and down on the bank. “Where are they?”
“In a nest not too far away. We must try to keep the Claw, the Paw, and the Jaw far from here until they are hatched. Once the babies get to the pond, we’ll be able to protect them.”
“I sssuspect Old SSStump and his gang will ssstay away for a very long time,” Seezer said. “His tender toes will be a sssore reminder of what will happen if he ever tries to sssteal our home away from us.”
“How many eggs are there?” Curly asked.
“Eight.”
“Harrumph! Only eight? A bullfrog mother can lay thousands at a time,” Big-Big boasted.
“Yes, but eight won’t crowd our pond. There will still be plenty of room for puffed-up creatures like you,” Quickfoot said as she munched sweetgrass.
“Eight tiny turtles will be able to bask comfortably on my tail,” Grub said.
“Or mine,” Number Four added.
“They can sun with us on our log if they’d like,” Digger offered.
“But only if they’re quiet,” Baskin grumbled.
“Quag-quog! Quag-quog! What will you call them?” Plume honked from the branch overhead.
Lucky Gal turned to Bartleby. “If it’s all right with you, I’ve been thinking that we should let everyone help name them.”
“Yes,” Bartleby agreed. “You will all be their family.”
Big-Big blew a huge bubble under his chin. “I think Little Big-Big is a very good name.”
The creatures of Friendship Hole talked, played, ate, and sang until they grew tired. Then, one by one, they went to their nests, dens, logs, and lily pads to sleep for a while. Together, Lucky Gal and Bartleby settled down in the shallow water among the tall reeds. And as the stars came out, they dreamed of eight little hatchlings with bright red ear patches and brave, true hearts.
Bartleby of the Big Bad Bayou Page 13
