Bartleby of the Big Bad Bayou Read Online Free

long.”
    Seezer smashed the water with his tail. The crack it made echoed over the water. “Ssstrong enough.”
    Bartleby waggled his little tail back and forth. “Seezer’s not afraid of any creature,” he bragged. He stretched out his neck and gazed at the quiet, sunny banks on either side of the stream. “Where are all the red-eared turtles? I thought there would be many of my kind here.”
    â€œRed-ears? Quite a few have, er, gone to lunch.” Grub bumped up against Seezer once more, nearly throwing Bartleby into the water. “I’m about ready for a bite—aren’t you?”
    Seezer gave his jaws a snap that made Grub back away. “Ssstop your ssshenanigans,” he growled.
    â€œOkay, bro’, I’ll wait.” Grub turned himself upstream. “See the great oak tree in the distance? The tall one at the edge of the water with a big knot in its middle? Old Stump’s cave is just under the bank there. We’ll have to ask him what to do with Lunch—that is, Bartleby.”
    Clinging tightly to Seezer’s hide, Bartleby edged closer to the gator’s ear. “What to do with me—what does that mean?” he whispered. He couldn’t keep his voice from shaking.
    â€œSssurely, after ssso much ssswimming, I am as ssstrong as any gator here,” Seezer hissed. “Just ssstay on my back and I’ll protect you.” He paddled closer to Grub. “Yes, I’d like to sssee this great gator for myself. Let’s ssswim over there.”
    Side by side the alligators began gliding upstream.
    â€œWh-why is he called Old Stump?” Bartleby asked.
    â€œBecause he’s thick as an old tree, and as stubborn to uproot as an old stump.” Grub reached his tail across Seezer’s back. He gave Bartleby a little shove that almost knocked the red-ear into the water. “Not like you.”
    â€œQuit it!” Bartleby snapped. He was holding on to Seezer so tightly, his webs had cramps. But his insides ached even worse. He wished he’d never come here. How could this big bad bayou be home?

4
    Old Stump
    From a distance, Bartleby could see four tree trunks lying in a line along the bank. He wondered if Old Stump had lashed them down with his powerful tail or chewed them down with his spiky teeth. But as he got closer, he realized that the tree trunks were really alligators. The biggest ones he’d ever seen.
    â€œSeezer, look over on that shore,” he whispered. “Perhaps those gators are relatives of yours.”
    Seezer turned his head to see. “Sssweet Ssswampland! I hope they are relatives and not enemies.” He took a long, deep breath. “Well, we will sssoon sssee. I sssuppose we have no choice.”
    When they were close enough, Grub called, “Excuse me, Great Gators. I’ve brought a guest to see Old Stump. Please—if you don’t mind. And if he’s not too busy.”
    The giant alligators all turned their heads toward Grub at once. “Of course he’s busy,” said the first one.
    â€œWhy should Old Stump want to see him—or you?” the second one asked.
    The third one narrowed his eyes to a slit. “What’s he doing in our water?”
    And the fourth one hissed, “If he wants to see Old Stump, he’d better hand over that snack on his back.”
    Grub sank a little lower in the water. “But, Great Gators, my companion is no ordinary alligator. He’s come all the way from a place called New York.”
    The first gator opened his jaws and yawned. His deep, dark throat reminded Bartleby of a cave—one he definitely did not want to explore. “Where’s that?”
    â€œMany rivers away,” Seezer replied. “Ssso far away, it’s where the geese fly to have their goslings each ssspring.”
    â€œHa. No alligator can swim that far.”
    Seezer snapped his jaws together sharply. The crack they made caused