Read Online Bartleby of the Big Bad Bayou by Phyllis Shalant - Free Book Online

“I’m glad you found us.”
    â€œHarrumph! Why be glad? Turtles eat too many flies.” Big-Big was perched on a lettuce. He flicked his tongue out and captured a passing moth.
    â€œQuag-quog! Don’t be greedy! There’s enough food here for everyone,” Plume said without taking her eyes off the water. In another minute, she speared a silvery minnow and tossed it down her throat. “The fish here are fresh and sweet. You must try one.”
    â€œRight now I just want some lettuce,” Bartleby said, but he didn’t take a bite. He was looking around for Lucky Gal. He didn’t see her fiery orange ear patches anywhere.
    â€œHurry up and finish your breakfast. We’ve got to get going. I’m not waiting all day!”
    Bartleby peered back over his carapace. Lucky was right behind him. “I was blending in with the lettuce. You swam by without seeing me!” she said.
    He was so glad to see her, he didn’t mind being teased. “Where are we going?”
    She spun herself around in a circle. “Everywhere. If you’re going to keep out of harm’s way, you’d better get to know every part of this swamp and every creature in it. Ready?” Without waiting for an answer, she began swimming away.
    As the two red-ears paddled side by side, Lucky pointed her snout toward things to be wary of. “See that oak? A great owl lives there. You’d better not get caught above the surface when she’s out hunting. And that hollow pine is home to a raccoon. She’s not much interested in big turtles like us unless she’s got babies. Then she’ll hunt whatever she can.”
    Bartleby liked being called a big turtle. He held his head up higher as he swam. Ahead he could see a log bobbing in the water with two turtles basking on top. One had deep red ear patches, and the other had dusty red ones.
    â€œHello, Digger and Baskin,” he called out.
    Digger turned his head toward the water. “Welcome! Isn’t it a wonderfully humid day? The swarms of flies are almost as thick as the air.”
    â€œWhy aren’t you sunning yourselves?” Baskin grumbled without turning his head from the sun.
    â€œYes—there’s plenty of room. Join us,” Digger offered. “This is the best basking place in all of the swamp.”
    â€œWe’re going exploring,” Lucky Gal told him. “Maybe later.”
    Baskin shot Bartleby a squinty look. “I heard they don’t have logs like this up north.”
    Bartleby wondered where he’d heard that. “There were lots of logs to sun on at my old water place. But yours is very nice, of course.”
    â€œHuh!” Baskin grunted. “Well, I’ve heard the turtles up north are different.”
    â€œUm, yes, I’ve heard that, too,” Digger agreed.
    â€œDifferent?” Bartleby backpaddled a bit. “How do you mean?”
    Digger gulped down a small, white fly as he thought. “Well, do you stretch out your right rear web or your left rear web first when you are basking?”
    Bartleby considered for a moment. “Sometimes one. Sometimes the other.”
    â€œWe always stretch our left first, and then our right.”
    â€œWhy?” Bartleby asked.
    â€œBecause.” Digger set his jaw and raised his snout.
    â€œAhem. Do you eat an earthworm head first or tail first?” Baskin asked.
    â€œWhatever end I can catch,” Bartleby replied.
    â€œWe always eat the head first.” Baskin stuck his snout up toward the sun again.
    â€œPhish!” Lucky Gal splashed the water with her tail. “I eat whatever end is in front of me.”
    Digger and Baskin both stared at her with their mouths open. But Lucky Gal didn’t even seem to notice. “We’re off to hunt fish fry now,” she told them.
    â€œWhy bother? If you wait on this log, the mosquitoes will come right to you,” Baskin said.
    â€œWaiting is