The Great Snapping Turtle Adventure Read Online Free Page B

baskets, bait and nets. Enough equipment to keep them busy making several trips back and forth from the truck to the small beach.
    When all the equipment was on the beach, Fred began measuring out lengths of cord, each about twenty feet long.
    â€œCord?” asked Max. “We could’ve used it for the turtle.”
    â€œNot strong enough, I don’t think,” said Fred.
    â€œWhat’s it for?” asked Charles.
    â€œWell,” said Fred in a voice made softer by the rush of sea breezes, “at the end of each of these strings will be something crabs think is a wonderful treat… chicken parts.”
    â€œHuh?” asked Max.
    â€œThat doesn’t sound so bad. Mom cooks chicken parts quite often,” said Charles.
    â€œBut usually they’re a bit fresher than these.” Fred held up an old chicken neck. “And rarely does your mother fry their feet,” he added, holding up three chicken feet.
    â€œYuck!” said both boys at once.
    â€œAhhh, but to the crabs, ‘bon appetit’!” said Fred with a smile.
    â€œWe’ll see,” said Charles. He couldn’t imagine even a crab finding chicken feet a delicious appetizer to nibble on.
    â€œReady to tie some on?” asked Fred, attempting to hand a neck to Charles.
    â€œI’ll pass. I think my calling is the long-handled net. I think I could be a real ‘cracker jack’ at it…just like Ham.”
    â€œWell, you can try, but it’s not easy. First you need to get one of those baskets—one that has an inner tube around it. Next, tie a piece of cord onto one of the basket handles. Tie the other end to your belt loop. That’s so you can pull up the basket filled with the crabs you caught. The basket in the inner tube will follow you around as you move through the water. But be sure you’ve tied the string tight on both your basket and your pants or else it will be ‘rub-a-dub-dub, lost crabs in a tub.’”
    â€œOk,” said Charles.
    â€œMax, better get the snapping turtle and soak her down,” called Fred.
    â€œGeez, I’d almost forgotten her,” said Charles, looking up from the string.
    â€œI don’t think I can manage that turtle by myself, even if she is in the basket,” said Max in a skittish voice.
    â€œPerhaps you’re right,” said Fred. “She is a pretty feisty lady.”
    â€œWell, I’m strong, but with all that seaweed and stuff, the basket might be pretty slippery…”
    â€œYeah, you’re just afraid that snapper will shrink down and slither out through the holes in the basket like a frog. Just shrink down to about the size of a large tadpole and come after you,” said Charles, obviously enjoying the fact that Max was afraid of the snapper.
    â€œI’d like to see you take the basket out of the truck, Mr. Snapper Pro,” smirked Max.
    â€œOk, ok, you guys. Come on, Max, I’ll help you. Charles, get back to your job.”
    Max and Fred hoisted the basket with the snapper in it out of the truck and carried it over to the water’s edge.
    â€œLike Cinderella in her pumpkin coach,” said Max. “This isn’t so bad, huh, Fred?”
    But before Fred could answer, the snapper shifted her weight, and there was a wild scratching of claws against the sides of the basket.
    â€œBetter not say anything, Max. I think the princess is listening,” chuckled Fred.
    Max was silent.
    After the snapper, or Cinderella, as she was known from that moment on, was safely placed with cool water lapping at her, Fred returned to the chicken necks and feet and the string.
    â€œI guess I’ll help you with the crab bait after all,” said Max, squatting in the sand beside Fred and the large plastic container filled with chicken parts. “No sense in coming all this way without getting the down and dirty feel of what it’s like to be a waterman.”
    â€œGood for you,