Read Matty and Bill for Keeps for Free Online Page B

of their diet.’
    â€˜What does it taste like?’ asked Crispin.
    â€˜Raw or cooked?’ asked Nan.
    â€˜Cooked, of course.’
    â€˜Well, if you cook it lightly in hot ashes, it tastes chickeny on the outside and like fried egg on the inside,’ explained Nan. ‘But it’s much more nutritious raw.’
    â€˜You have to have it raw, Crispin,’ said Mat in a stern voice.
    â€˜Surely that’s a bit cruel?’ suggested Crispin, searching desperately for a way out of eating an uncooked grub.
    â€˜Not at all,’ said Nan. ‘Much more cruel to throw it in hot ashes.’
    Bill was feeling sorry for Crispin. He was remembering back to the time he had to eat a snake. He was so scared he’d be poisoned. On the other hand, at least he’d been allowed to eat the snake after it had been fried. And it tasted like roast chicken.
    â€˜Bush tucker tastes much better than you’d expect,’ said Bill encouragingly. ‘Maybe you could just have a nibble.’
    â€˜No nibbles,’ objected Mat. ‘He has to eat the whole thing. Minus the head, of course.’
    â€˜That grub has a head?’ asked Crispin, unable to hide his horror.
    â€˜Naturally!’ said Nan. ‘It’s an insect at the pupae stage. It eventually turns into a moth.’
    â€˜I have to eat a grub that will turn into a fluttering winged creature?’
    â€˜Stop thinking about it,’ said Mat. ‘You’re just making it worse for yourself.’
    â€˜Come on,’ said Nan, holding the witchety grub closer to Crispin. ‘Take hold of it.’
    Crispin screwed up his face as he gingerly took the grub.
    â€˜Thatta boy,’ said Nan. ‘You’re holding it just right – by the head. Now hang it over your mouth and bite it. But do it respectfully. It’s sacrificing its life so that you can live. Every living thing we eat should be eaten with respect.’
    â€˜I’d rather the witchety grub wouldn’t go to so much trouble,’ said Crispin, trying to hand back the grub to Nan. ‘Both he and I would be happier if he didn’t sacrifice himself.’
    â€˜Stop talking and put it in your mouth,’ said Mat.
    Crispin dangled the witchety grub over his open mouth. He paused. His mind was desperately searching for a way out of this torture. He had a sudden inspiration. ‘Grub!’ he said. ‘Maybe I’m eating your family totem. This could bring bad luck on everyone.’
    â€˜Grub is an English name,’ explained Mat in an exasperated voice. ‘It’s from Saxon times. Dad’s father, Charles Henry Grub, came out on a ship from England in 1949. Stop stalling, Crispin.’
    â€˜Well, it just seems very unfair on this poor grub,’ said Crispin. ‘I’m so much bigger than it is. It doesn’t stand a chance.’
    Nan laughed. ‘If you keep on with your excuses, that grub stands a very good chance!’
    â€˜Crispin,’ said Mat. ‘You are going to get strong support from me and Bill if you make it into our club. But I can’t promise you the same level of support if you fail your very first test.’
    Crispin weighed up his situation. The witchety grub was hideous. But Isabelle Farquay-Jones and her parents were planning an even more hideous revenge for him. Crispin shut his eyes, lowered the grub into his mouth and crunched. At the same time, he hurled the head away. He had a momentary taste sensation of eggs and almonds, but he wasn’t about to savour the taste. He swallowed. Then he bellowed, ‘Aaaargh!!!’ for such a long, long time that it echoed around the valley. Uncle Len got really excited. He ran in tight circles and started howling.
    Mat observed Crispin: feet slightly apart, arms rigidly straight, hands clenched by his sides, and his fiery red head thrown back as he yelled his lungs out. She thought how very much he must look like a Viking in the