Read The Great Snapping Turtle Adventure for Free Online Page B

if I catch him,” said Fred.
    â€œThe key word in that last statement, folks”—said Max in his best game show host voice—“is if! ”
    â€œWell, it will be more a battle of wits if it’s me hauling him in than you,” teased Fred. He took the line carefully in his hand and listened. “Uh oh!”
    â€œWhat?” said Max, hurrying closer to Fred’s side.
    â€œWe have a customer.”
    â€œWe do?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œGreat,” whispered Max. “Now what?”
    â€œThe net.”
    â€œThe net?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œOh, gosh.”
    â€œWhy, where is it?” said Fred, glancing over at Max.
    â€œIt’s back at the truck.”
    â€œWell, it’s not going to help us bring in blue fins over there,” said Fred. “Hurry up and get it while I try not to spook him away.”
    â€œSorry, Fred,” called Max over his shoulder as he ran to get the net.
    â€œThat’s ok, just hurry, there’s no telling how long the bait will last.”
    Max flew to the truck and back again.
    Charles looked up from his underwater exploration just in time to see Max’s mad dash.
    â€œWhat’s up?” he called.
    â€œPossibly dinner!” yelled Max.
    â€œGreat. Hope it’s fatter than the one I hauled in,” quipped Charles.
    â€œThat would be nice.”
    Max arrived, out of breath. “Is…he…still there?”
    â€œYep, want to feel?” asked Fred, holding the line out toward Max.
    â€œThink there’s still time?”
    â€œMaybe a second, if you’re fast.”
    Max carefully took the line from Fred. He rested it across his palm, as he had seen Fred do.
    â€œWow! I can feel him. Boy, is he vicious. He’s really going after that chicken bait.”
    â€œYeah, hungry,” said Fred.
    â€œKind of like a fish, just like you said.”
    â€œBut a fish nibbles politely. A crab pulls and yanks and is much more demanding,” said Fred.
    â€œNow what?”
    â€œNow, the hard part: bringing him up without his knowing it. We have to ease the line ever so gently as if the tide were moving it. Up, up and as soon as we have him where we can see him, then we get the net under and scoop.” Fred continued to slowly pull the line up.
    â€œWhat’s that?” asked Max suddenly as a white-gray-pink jelly mess came up with the line.
    â€œJellyfish. Have to watch out for them, they sting a little. One of the hazards of crabbing or swimming in these waters.” Fred continued to pull and the jellyfish dribbled off the line like egg white, gooily dripping into the water.
    â€œYuck!”
    â€œYep.” Fred pulled on the line. Suddenly he stopped. “Look, can you see?” He tilted his head toward the line.
    â€œThe crab! Huge!” whispered Max.
    â€œActually, two crabs and they’re battling over the bait. That may be to our advantage. They’ll be so busy trying to keep the chicken away from each other that they won’t notice the net—maybe. Here, you hold the line. Don’t pull it. I think I can dip them in just the way it stands right how.”
    â€œThink so?”
    â€œWe can hope,” said Fred as he shifted the line into Max’s hands and took the net.
    The net had a long wooden handle, maybe six feet long. At the end, the net itself was a loop of wire about nine or ten inches in diameter with white string tied in two-inch squares. It was heavy and awkward, but Fred handled it as if it were the size of a tennis racket: his movements were quiet and controlled.
    Fred slowly eased the net into the water until it was about a foot from the crabs. He was careful to keep his shadow and the shadow of the net away from the crabs. He didn’t want to spook them.
    â€œReady!” said Fred. “Just keep the line as you have it.”
    â€œOk,” said Max.
    Fred quickly scooped the net under the crabs, slicing the