[Primrose Bolger]

It was the dull thunk of the gloves near her that made her believe the he just might mean for her to go with him. Sassy scrambled up from her seat on the ground and picking up the gloves and her pack followed after him. She noted he carried his own pair of gloves . . . and a net. Her little brow wrinkled as she tried to imagine what he was going to do with it. She shrugged her shoulders; perhaps that was how his family did it. But try as she might she just couldn’t see how it would work. The net looked too flimsy for the claws and jaws of a sizable snapper.

Sassy shouldered her little pack and ran up beside him, saying ‘thanks!’ as she tucked the gloves in the waistband of her breeches. They walked along in companionable silence until they neared the reedy area, stopping only once as she ran off to the side of the little grassy track to pick up two very stout, thick sticks. Bingo looked at her, his brows raised, but she just grinned up at him. ‘Comes in handy,’ she said, not offering much of an explanation. ‘My Uncle Maddy showed me.’

The two Hobbits stood for a few moments on the edge of the reedy area. There were, indeed, a number of snappers dozing among the reeds in the muddy flats. Bingo loosed his net and put on his gloves, nodding toward where the turtles were lolling. Sassy pointed a little ways up the river where an old willow grew on the bank, its roots a tangle as they dipped into the river. ‘Think I might try my luck there,’ she said. ‘Unless you need my help with something?’ Bingo shrugged, and she took that as an okay.

Sassy put her pack on the bank, taking out her little hatchet to lean against its side. Then she edged out onto the root tangle, hunkering down to peer through the intertwining roots. At first she had no luck, but she inched along and finally found what she was looking for. There was a snoozing turtle, about ten inches across, all cozy in the little passageway it had found for itself beneath the roots. She picked her way quietly to the tail end of the turtle, noting how it had tunneled in. Putting her gloves on, Sassy thrust her arm carefully into the hole and grabbed the snapper by his long tail. A struggled ensued, but the determined girl planted her feet and drew the hissing turtle out. It was not one of the granddaddy turtles, but it was a fair size, and would add a good bit of meat to Bingo’s plans for soup.

‘Got one!’ she called, dragging the creature backwards up the slope and onto the top of the river’s bank. The snapper was spitting mad and tried twisting itself this way and that with its claws dug in to get at its capturer. At one point, her foot slipped on the muddy bank, and the turtle nipped her soundly on the ankle, causing her to yelp loudly. She scrambled her feet out of range never letting go of the tail. ‘Hey! Can you help me here?’ she cried, calling out to Bingo. He came quickly, adding his weight to the pull as they eased the turtle toward her pack. ‘Get that stick there,’ she told Bingo, nodding at those she’d brought along. Bingo took hold of one of the stout stick and bopped the turtle on the nose. Like greased lightning, the snapper stretched out its neck and grabbed hold of the stick intending to do in its tormentor. Bingo kept a tight hold on the stick, keeping the turtle’s neck extended. With a quick move of her own, Sassy let go the tail and grabbing up her little hatchet, severed the head of the turtle from its neck. ‘Whew!’ exclaimed, standing back with her hands on her hips as she surveyed the catch. ‘That ‘un was a fighter!’ Sassy smiled widely at Bingo. ‘Hey, thanks!’ she said, grinning still. They could hear the turtle he’d netted flopping and hissing and tearing at the net that held him. ‘Want some help with that one?’ she asked getting out her hatchet and the other stick.

The walk back to the camp with their catch was a little less quiet. That is, Bingo was not much of a talker, but he listened to her burbling on about what fun that was, and how she hadn’t known you could hunt turtles with a net, but next time she’d try it, and how this was the second time she’d been snagged by a snapper, showing him a scar on her thumb as well as the little gash on her ankle. ‘Oh my gosh, I’m running off at the mouth aren’t I?’ she asked. ‘Sorry! My Gammer says sometimes I talk too much. Just tell me to be quiet . . . I’m used to it!’

They could hear the sounds of the other boys as they neared the camp. They were putting things back on the raft, getting ready to go. ‘Good thing you’re back, Bingo!’ one of them cried. ‘We just about left you!’ Sassy helped secure the two turtles on a short length of rope, so they could drag along in the cold water of the river to keep fresh. She looked about as the boys gathered on the raft, standing about in groups of twos and threes. Bingo had gone over to talk to his brother. With a resigned little sigh, she sat down again near the edge of the raft and leaned against her pack, dipping her nipped ankle in the cool, soothing water . . .