Chapter 2

Timothy glared at his teacher for a few moments. And Mr. Crow began to think that Jasper Jay had spoiled the fun. But at last Timothy Turtle plodded on. And when his back was turned old Mr. Crow flew over to the place where Jasper Jay was hidden and whispered to him that he had better keep still or there would be trouble for him.

VIII

TURNING TURTLE

So Timothy Turtle struggled up the steep face of the bluff. And as he neared the top Mr. Crow began to hop up and down upon the old pine stump. He was almost bursting with silent laughter. But he succeeded in keeping quiet. And now and then he made threatening motions toward Jasper Jay and his friends, who stuck their heads from behind limbs of trees and hummocks and bushes, lest they miss any of the fun.

Once on top of the great rock that capped the bluff and hung out over the creek, Timothy Turtle clung there and peered down at the gently flowing water below.

"What a long way it is down there!" he called to Mr. Crow.

"Don't think about that!" Mr. Crow cautioned him.

"Is this the way Mr. Alligator learned to fly?" Timothy Turtle demanded.

"Don't think about him!" Mr. Crow shouted. "Just jump out as far as you can!"

"I believe I don't care to fly to-day," Timothy Turtle faltered, drawing back from the edge of the rock. "I----I'll wait till some other time. You know, I'm older than you are."

"Tut, tut!" said Mr. Crow. "When I'm your age I shall still be flying as well as I do now. It's nothing, when you know how. Nothing at all!"

Urged by Mr. Crow, Timothy Turtle once more crept to the very edge of the cliff and stretched his neck out as far as he could, to gaze down at the black water. And at last, after making several false starts and drawing back to a place of safety, he stood up on his hind legs, shut his eyes, and hopped off into space.

Now, the moment Timothy Turtle leaped from the top of the bluff a deafening squawk broke the silence. Old Mr. Crow _cawed_ as loud as he knew how. But the racket he made was as nothing compared with the uproar of Jasper Jay and the noisy crew he had brought with him. They squalled with delight as Timothy Turtle plunged through the air like a stone. And when he landed upside down in the creek, striking the water with a great splash, the whole company shrieked louder than ever.

"_Ha! ha! ha_!" Mr. Crow cried, holding his sides and rocking backwards and forwards upon the old stump.

"_Jay_! _jay_! _jay_!" Jasper and his friends bawled, hopping up and down and cutting capers in the air.

As for Timothy Turtle, he made no sound at all. And neither did he make the slightest motion. The current of Black Creek caught him and bore him away down the stream. But at last he managed to paddle ashore. And he pulled himself slowly out of the water, and lay upon the sand and groaned.

Mr. Crow and his cronies gathered quickly about him.

"What's the matter?" Mr. Crow inquired. "Don't you like flying?"

It was some time before Timothy could answer.

"I've had an awful fall," he moaned finally.

"Where are you hurt?" Mr. Crow asked him.

"Everywhere!" Timothy Turtle told him. "I thought you said that water was soft to fall into."

"Well, isn't it?"

"It certainly is _not,_" Timothy Turtle declared. "I believe there's nothing harder in the whole world.... I've heard, sir, that you are very wise. But for once, anyhow, you've made a great mistake."

Old Mr. Crow coughed--and winked at his friends. "The trouble was"--he explained--"the trouble was, you lost your balance and landed in the creek upside down. And of course you couldn't fly in that position. It's what's called 'turning turtle,'" he added, "and I might have known--if I had stopped to think--that you'd be sure to do it."

"Well," said Timothy Turtle, drawing a long breath, "I'll tell you right now that I'll never, _never_, turn turtle again."

IX

A PLEASURE TRIP

Almost always the wild folk in Pleasant Valley knew that if they wanted to see Timothy Turtle they could find him somewhere in Black Creek. But once in a great while he liked to go on what he called "an excursion." By that he meant a pleasure trip to some spot not too far away--never outside of Pleasant Valley.

Nobody meeting Timothy Turtle on one of those journeys would have suspected that he was bent on pleasure. Or at least, nobody would have supposed that Mr. Turtle had found what he was looking for. Certainly if he was hunting for fun, he never looked as if he had discovered any. For no smile showed itself upon his face. Instead, he met every one with a frown. And if a body gave him a cheery "Good morning," just as likely as not Timothy would answer with a grunt, and pass on.

Naturally, when Timothy Turtle arrived anywhere and told people that he expected to spend a few days among them they did not feel any great joy at the news. On the contrary, they were quite likely to say to one another, "I hope he won't stop long," or "He looks more grumpy than ever." And some would even remark that they wished Timothy Turtle would go home and stay there.

So no one of the Beaver colony was glad when Timothy appeared in their pond one day and explained that he intended to be in the neighborhood at least a week. In the first place, the Beavers, as a whole, were a busy, cheerful family, who did not like disagreeable folk for company. And in the second place, they were spry workers; and they had little use for anybody as slow as Timothy Turtle, who never did any work at all.

It is no wonder, then, that as soon as the news of Timothy's coming spread up and down and across the pond, the busy Beavers stopped their work and said things about the crusty outsider who had forced himself upon them. And almost everybody went to call upon Grandaddy Beaver and asked him what he thought ought to be done.

Now, Grandaddy was a good old soul. And he told the hot-headed younger members of the colony to keep cool, which seems a simple thing for them to have done, swimming about as they were in the icy water, which flowed down from springs on the side of Blue Mountain.

"Timothy Turtle has been here before," Grandaddy Beaver announced. "I can remember my great-grandfather's telling me about his passing two whole weeks in our pond. And though everybody wished he would leave, he never harmed anybody, because people kept out of his way."

"Well, he ought to work while he's here," said a brisk gentleman, tugging at his moustache.

"Timothy Turtle will never lift his hand to do a single stroke of work," said old Grandaddy Beaver. "He has already spent a long life without working. And he'll be lazy if he lives to be a hundred years old--or even a hundred and fifty."

Now, a young chap called Brownie Beaver heard all this, as he stood in Grandaddy's doorway and peeped inside the house. And he thought it was a shame that _somebody_ couldn't make Timothy Turtle mend his ways. To Brownie Bearer it seemed that Timothy Turtle was old enough to behave himself.

X

A WARNING

Timothy Turtle's visit at the beaver pond was just like all of his outings. Wherever he went he was so disagreeable and snappish that there wasn't a single person in the whole village that didn't wish Timothy had stayed away from that place.

He was forever grumbling, complaining that the fishing was poor in the pond. And as for frogs, he declared that he hadn't seen even one.

"Why anybody wants to live here is more than I can understand." That was what Timothy Turtle told everyone he met. And of course it was a poor way of making himself welcome.

"Why do you come here, if you don't like our pond?" people asked him.

"It's a change for me," was Timothy's reply. "After I've spent a week with you I'll be pretty glad to get back home again. And I won't want to go on another excursion for a whole year--or maybe two.

"It's twenty years since I was here before. And I sha'n't care to come again for forty, at least."

Now, such dreadfully rude remarks hurt the Beaver family's feelings. And when Timothy Turtle seized a fat lady by the tail one day and wouldn't let her go until sunset, her feelings were hurt most of all. She cried that she had never been so insulted in all her life.

Timothy Turtle merely said that she ought not to object. He explained that he had been _giving her a rest_--for of course she couldn't cut down a tree, nor work upon the dam that held the water in the pond, while he clung fast to her tail.

Well, this fat lady happened to be Brownie Beaver's mother. And after her disagreeable experience with the stranger, Brownie made up his mind that he _would make Timothy Turtle work_. That was the worst punishment he could think of.

Whenever the members of the Beaver family were not sleeping, or eating, either they were gathering food by cutting down trees, or they were mending their dam.

The dam always had leaks here and there. And sooner or later every one of them had to be stopped, before it grew so big that the water would rush through it and tear a hole so great that the pond would be drained dry.

During his stay among the Beavers Timothy Turtle often crawled on top of the dam and stretched himself out and watched the Beavers at their task. He said that if there was one thing that he liked to see more than another it was "a gang of men working." But he complained that they ought to work in the daytime, when the sun was shining, because then it would have been "much pleasanter for him."

"Don't you want to help us?" asked the brisk fellow who had told Grandaddy Beaver that he thought Timothy Turtle ought to go to work.

That question actually made Timothy snort.

"_Me work_?" he snapped scornfully, as he glared at the speaker.

Everybody knew what he meant. And everybody knew how Timothy felt, too, when he edged along the dam and made a savage pass at the plump gentleman who had spoken to him.

Luckily the brisk Beaver jumped aside before Timothy Turtle's jaws closed on him. And he did not say another word to the stranger during the rest of his stay at the pond.

But Timothy Turtle became quite talkative. He stopped all he met--old and young both--and warned them that nobody need try to get him to work, for he never had worked, and he never intended to.

XI

ON THE BEAVER DAM

Timothy Turtle was so angry that he went about snapping at everybody and everything. And since the whole Beaver family kept carefully out of his way, he had to content himself with setting his jaws upon roots and sticks.

Now, the Beavers' dam was made of sticks and mud. So Timothy found plenty of chances to bite. And because he could not hurt the sticks, no matter how much he tried, nobody cared.

Really he acted in a most silly, surly fashion.

Out of a corner of his eye Brownie Beaver watched Timothy Turtle closely. Brownie had not forgotten how Timothy seized his mother by the tail. And while he was helping his elders on the dam, at the same time he was trying to think of some way to outwit Timothy Turtle.

It happened that just at that time the dam needed a great deal of mending. There were so many holes to be filled that the Beavers worked all night long. And in spite of all their efforts they saw that even then a few leaks would have to go unmended. But they did not get snappish nor lose their tempers. They were not like Timothy Turtle. Though he slept a great part of the night, and waked up to watch the workers early in the morning, his temper was worse than ever.

He was paddling through the water close to the dam when Brownie Beaver called to him.

"You see that stick??" said Brownie, pointing to a stout piece of box elder that stuck out of the dam.

"I'm not blind," Timothy Turtle snarled back at him.

"Well, please don't bite it, anyhow!" Brownie Beaver begged him.

That was enough for Timothy Turtle. The mere fact that he thought somebody didn't want him to do a certain thing was sure to make him do it. So without saying another word he seized that stick in his powerful jaws. And bracing his feet against the inner side of the dam, half in the water and half out, he pulled with all his strength.

Now and then he turned his beady eyes toward Brownie Beaver and frowned at him, as if to say, "Don't give _me_ any orders, young fellow! I shall do just as I please; and nobody can stop me."

Timothy noticed that Brownie went to a number of the other workers and whispered to them. And when everyone to whom he spoke called to Timothy and asked him if he wouldn't just as soon let go of that stick and grab another one, that crusty old codger made up his mind that nobody should move him from that spot. He took an even firmer hold and tugged as if he meant to tear the whole dam down.

But the Beaver family knew that he couldn't do any damage. And as soon as it was light enough they all went home to take a nap, leaving Timothy Turtle to pull away to his heart's content.

XII

KIND TIMOTHY TURTLE

All day long Timothy Turtle stayed on the Beaver dam. And when the Beavers returned in the evening, to resume their work, they found Timothy still clinging to the box elder stick.

To Timothy Turtle's deep disgust the plump workers gathered round him and laughed. He could never bear to hear people laugh--laughing was so silly, he always said. And now Brownie Beaver laughed louder than all the rest.

"Look!" Brownie cried, pointing straight at Timothy Turtle. "Isn't he kind? He has stopped up that big hole for us all day.... And now"--Brownie added, turning to Timothy Turtle--"now if you'll kindly _stop working_ for us and move aside we'll fill that hole that's right under you, with mud."

Timothy Turtle never felt more ashamed in all his long life. There he had been working all day long, helping the Beaver family by plugging a hole in their dam with his flat body--and he had never guessed what he was doing!

He let go of the stick and sank hastily in the pond, where the water was deepest, to bury himself in the soft bottom. And there he stayed and sulked for the rest of the week, until his visit was done. If he stuck his head out of the water now and then for a breath of air, he was careful to let no one see him.

He did not even bid the Beaver family good-by at the end of his visit, but left in the middle of the day, when everybody was sound asleep.

Grandaddy Beaver said it was no more than one could expect of a person so rude as Timothy Turtle.

"He was just like that in my great-grandfather's time," the old gentleman explained.

And all the rest of the villagers remarked that Timothy Turtle was old enough to have better manners. Certainly, they said, the youngest Beaver child knew better than to treat people in such a rude fashion.

Brownie Beaver's mother especially announced that she had never in all her life met a gentleman who had treated her so disrespectfully as old Mr. Turtle. And she grew red and pale by turns as she recalled how he had seized her by the tail and held her fast for a whole day.

"I hope," she said, "that by the time he comes here again he will have learned how to behave himself."

But Grandaddy Beaver shook his head.

"Timothy Turtle," he declared, "will be no different even if he lives to be a thousand years old."

And everybody said that it was a great pity.

XIII

THE PLOT

Of all the creatures that walked or swam or flew, Timothy Turtle liked boys the least of all. He said that if they ever did anything except throw stones he had never caught them at it.

"It's a wonder"--he often remarked--"it's a wonder that there's a stone left anywhere along this creek. I've lived here a good many years; and no boy ever spied me sunning myself on a rock in the water without trying to hit me."

Once in a great while some youngster was skillful enough to bounce a stone off Mr. Turtle's back. And when the old scamp flopped into the water he always heard a great whooping from the bank.

At such times as likely as not Timothy had been awakened from a sound sleep. But when that jeering noise greeted his ears he knew at once what had struck him.

It was a good thing for him that he had a hard back. Nevertheless it always made him angry to be disturbed when he was taking a nap. And some people said that if Timothy Turtle ever grabbed a boy by his great-toe, when he was in swimming, that youngster would limp for many a day thereafter.

But the boys went in swimming just the same. Black Creek would have had to be alive with turtles to keep them out of it on a hot summer's day. Indeed Farmer Green often said that he wished his son Johnnie would spend half the time in the hayfield that he wasted around the creek.

When questioned by his father, Johnnie said that there was an old turtle in Black Creek that he wanted to catch.

"What are you going to do with him--make soup of him?" Farmer Green inquired solemnly.

Johnnie shook his head.

"I want to cut my initials on his shell and let him go," he explained. "Then if I catch him again when I'm grown up I'll know him when I find him.... I'll put the date under my initials, too," Johnnie added.

Farmer Green laughed.

"When you're grown up," he said, "you'll have something else to do besides catching snapping turtles. This afternoon you may carve your initials on the hay-rake and then take it over to the big meadow and play with it."

For a few moments Johnnie Green couldn't help looking glum. He had intended to visit the creek that very afternoon. But now he knew that his father expected him to work--to _work_ on one of the finest days of the whole summer!

"I'll let you off all day to-morrow," Farmer Green said. "And you know there's that calf I told you I'd give you if you helped me with the haying."

And then Johnnie actually smiled.

* * * * *

Well, the next morning was just as fine as the afternoon before. And Johnnie Green set off early for Black Creek, with his pockets stuffed full of cherries, because he was afraid he might get hungry. He ate a few of them on the way to the creek. But when he reached that delightful place he found something that made him forget what he had in his pockets. For there near the top of the bank, too far from the water to escape him--there lay Timothy Turtle himself, taking a sun-bath on the warm sand.

XIV

CAUGHT!

As soon as Johnnie Green saw Mr. Turtle he let out a loud whoop. And as soon as Mr. Turtle saw Johnnie, _he_ scrambled up and made awkwardly for the water as fast as he could go.

But Timothy's fastest, on land, was so slow that Johnnie Green stopped him in two seconds.

Catching up a long stick, Johnnie thrust it in front of Timothy Turtle, who promptly seized it in his hooked jaws.

Johnnie Green couldn't help laughing at him.

"You're a stupid old fellow!" he cried. "You could bite that stick all day and not hurt me."

But Timothy Turtle said never a word. He wished, however, that he could shift his grip to one of Johnnie's bare toes. He rather thought, if he could have done that, that Johnnie Green would give such a yell as had never before been heard in Pleasant Valley.

But Johnnie was careful. After catching Mr. Turtle he hardly knew what to do with him. All summer long Johnnie had kept his jackknife sharp as a razor, ready to carve his initials on Mr. Turtle's hard shell whenever the chance came. The knife was in his pocket. There was Mr. Turtle before him on the sand. And yet Johnnie was puzzled.

Close at hand his captive looked fiercer than he had appeared at a distance, lying on a rock in the creek. And his jaws had closed upon the stick in a vise-like hold. Johnnie winced when he tried to imagine how he would feel with Mr. Turtle fastened firmly to a toe or a finger.

It was not a pleasant thought. But Johnnie Green soon had a happier one: why not turn the old scamp over upon his back?

Johnnie had heard that a turtle was helpless when upset in that way. And he had already made up his mind to flop this one over when he realized that even with his captive upside down there was still a certain difficulty.

To be sure, Mr. Turtle couldn't walk away. But he could bite just the same. And how was a boy going to carve his initials on anybody's back, when that person was lying on it?

Johnnie Green saw that that plan wouldn't do at all. But he turned Timothy over, just for fun, upsetting him neatly by lifting him on the stick--for Timothy had not sense enough to let go of it in time to save himself.

Johnnie stayed there only long enough to make sure that Timothy Turtle was unable to move. And he soon decided that the savage old rascal would have to lie on his back until somebody came along and tipped him over. Then Johnnie Green scampered away.

To be sure, Mr. Turtle wriggled his legs, and twisted his neck about. But all his wiggling and twisting were of not the slightest help to him.

It was the first time in his long life that he had ever found himself in that position on land. And he was both frightened and angry.

Old Mr. Crow, who had a way of knowing when there was anything unusual going on, arrived in time to hear Timothy's remarks. And what he said about boys--and especially about Johnnie Green--made Mr. Crow catch his breath.

XV

THE REDSKINS' WAY

Of course Timothy Turtle was glad that Johnnie Green was gone. But he was far from happy, lying helpless on his back on the bank of Black Creek.

He told Mr. Crow that he hoped Johnnie would forget to come back again--a remark which made old Mr. Crow laugh. Being very wise, he saw at once that Timothy Turtle knew next to nothing about boys.

"I should think," Mr. Crow told Timothy, "you'd want Johnnie Green to return."

"Why?" Timothy snapped out his question in an angry tone, as he lay there upside down and stared at old Mr. Crow, who sat in a tree near-by.

"Well," Mr. Crow answered, "who'll set you on your feet again if he doesn't?"

"Don't you worry about me!" Timothy Turtle sneered. "I'll right myself as soon as there's a freshet. If there's a big enough rain the creek will rise as high as I am now. And nobody could keep me on my back in the water."

Old Mr. Crow actually snickered.

"You might have to wait till next spring for a freshet," he said cheerfully. "And what would you eat meanwhile?"

Having had a hearty meal of fish just before leaving the creek, Timothy Turtle hadn't once thought of _eating_. And naturally Mr. Crow's question troubled him. So he frowned frightfully. And he snapped his hooked jaws together, for he had to take something in his jaws and bite it, if it was no more than the air.

"I suppose"--Mr. Crow remarked--"I suppose you would call that _taking the air, eh_?" And there was a merry twinkle in his eye.

"Go away!" Timothy Turtle growled.

But his guest declined to leave.

"There's likely to be some fun here," he thought, "and I don't intend to miss it."

* * * * *

If Timothy Turtle was surprised, Mr. Crow certainly was not, when a little later Johnnie Green and another boy whom he called "Red" (on account of his hair) came hurrying up to the spot where Timothy Turtle lay.

Upon the ground they dropped a number of things, such as pieces of rope, an old grain-sack, and an axe.

"Goodness!" said Mr. Crow to himself, as he looked on. "I'm glad I'm not Timothy Turtle. It appears to me that he's going to have a terrible time."

And Timothy himself seemed to think the same. He made savage passes at Johnnie and Red whenever they came near him. But they took good care to keep beyond his reach.

On the whole their captive behaved in a most foolish manner. Instead of drawing his head as far as he could into his shell, he thrust his neck out as far as it would go.

And that was exactly what the boys wanted him to do. Before Timothy Turtle--who was somewhat slow-witted--before he realized what their plan was, Johnnie Green and his friend Red had slipped one noose around his head and another around his body. And after turning their captive right side up they staked him out upon the sand so that he could not move.