278 RAMBLES ABOUT HOME. 



bit. Jammin' the rail down again, I guess I hit his head, 

 for it riled him, evidently, and he raised right up. His 

 head and neck came up out of the sand, and I was for 

 standin' back just then. If ever you saw a wicked eye, 

 that turtle had one, and his head was as big as my list. 

 Stickin' his head out, though, gave me the knowledge I 

 wanted. I knew how he laid in the mud, and I ran my 

 rail down under him as far as I could. It kept him 

 from divin' down, and I went right into the ditch to try 

 and get a hold on his tail if I could. This I did, after 

 feelin' for it a bit, and no sooner had I got a good grip on 

 it than the old fellow got free of the rail and commenced 

 goin' deep into the mud. I tugged and he dug, and it 

 was a clear case of ' pull Dick, pull devil ' between us. 

 He was gettin' the better of me, though, for I was gettin' 

 chilled in that water, and had nearly lost my hold, when 

 the turtle gave an extra jerk, and if it hadn't been for 

 the fence-rail I'd a lost him. I was pulled for'ard, but 

 the rail was right in front, so I put one foot on it, to 

 keep from sinkin' any deeper in the mire. This bracin' 

 gave me the advantage now, and I put all my strength to 

 it. The turtle came a little, and I seemed to gain strength. 

 I tugged and tugged with all my might, and presently 

 his hind feet showed. You see, he hadn't firm enough 

 mud to hold on to. I backed slowly across the ditch 

 when I got him in open water, and got a fair footin' on 

 the ditch-bank at last. Still, I wasn't out of the woods by 

 a long shot. That turtle weighed close onto seventy 

 pounds, and I'd no means of handlin' him. Chilled 

 through, with both hands needed to hold him, and in the 

 middle of the mucky meadow, all that was left me was 

 to try and drag him to the high, smooth meadows. It 

 was a tough job, I tell you. I had to walk backward, 

 and he pulled against me like a frightened horse. I 



