The world of nature, often perceived as a realm of placid existence and instinctive behavior, occasionally witnesses events that defy expectations. This is the story of one such extraordinary occurrence: the time when a particularly irascible Snapping Turtle, renowned for his bravery, decided to wage war against mankind.
For a period preceding the declaration of war, an unusual tension seemed to permeate the air. The Snapping Turtle, typically a creature of habit and predictable disposition, was exhibiting a marked increase in irritability. Other turtles, sensing the shift in his demeanor, voiced their concerns. "Snapping Turtle is very cranky," they would murmur amongst themselves, their voices a low rumble in the muddy depths. "Something must be in the air." The reason for his unusual behavior remained shrouded in mystery, a silent question mark hanging over the tranquil ponds and slow-moving streams that constituted their world.
Then came the summons. A messenger, dispatched with an air of urgency, arrived bearing a call to all the turtle people. Each was instructed to appear at Snapping Turtle’s wigwam. A wave of anticipation swept through the turtle community. Perhaps, they hoped, this meant a resolution to Snapping Turtle’s ill temper, a return to the familiar peace that characterized their lives. With a sense of cautious optimism, they gathered at his dwelling, eager to partake in a feast that, they hoped, signaled a return to normalcy.
The feast was indeed a lavish affair, a display of the bounty that their world provided. But beneath the veneer of celebration, a darker purpose lay simmering. As the feasting drew to a close, Snapping Turtle rose, his gaze sweeping across the assembled crowd. His voice, usually a low growl, now carried a distinct edge of anger. "My brothers," he announced, "I am angry at mankind. I am going to raise a war-party and fight them!"
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Mankind, the dominant species, the beings who often interacted with their world in ways that were both beneficial and detrimental, were now the target of their leader’s wrath. The turtles, however, found themselves in agreement. They had, over time, accumulated a litany of perceived insults and injustices at the hands of men. The sentiment for retaliation, long dormant, now surged to the surface. A collective decision was made: they were ready to go to war. This was the story of Turtle Goes to War.
Under the cloak of darkness, when the world of men lay slumbering, the turtle warriors commenced their march. Their journey was arduous, a slow and deliberate trek across fields and through forests. They traveled from dawn until dusk, their pace dictated by the inherent slowness of their kind. At nightfall, they would rest, seeking respite from the day’s exertions, preparing themselves for the battles to come.
Within their ranks was a little Box Turtle, a creature known for his sensitivity and connection to the spiritual realm. One night, as the warriors slept, Box Turtle was plagued by a dream, a vision of impending doom. The dream was heavy with bad omens, a premonition of failure and despair. Upon waking, he felt compelled to share his vision, but Snapping Turtle, consumed by his own anger and driven by his desire for vengeance, dismissed the dream as mere superstition. He declared that he did not believe in omens and was determined to fight, regardless of the portents.
Despite Snapping Turtle’s dismissive attitude, the turtles continued the practice of recounting their dreams each morning. But as the days progressed, a disturbing pattern emerged: each dream was more ominous than the last. The turtles were becoming increasingly concerned. One morning, Box Turtle, despite his leader’s disapproval, began to sing a song, a lament born from the depths of his troubled sleep.
"Oh! Snapping Turtle, I see you now!" he sang, his voice a mournful echo in the morning air. "They are throwing all of us turtles in a sack!"
Snapping Turtle, enraged by the song’s unsettling message, hissed, "Don’t sing that!" But Box Turtle, lost in the throes of his dream, continued to sing. In a fit of fury, Snapping Turtle approached Box Turtle and kicked him with considerable force. The blow landed squarely on Box Turtle’s chest, shattering his shell. To this day, the break, now healed into a distinct hinge, serves as a visible reminder of that fateful encounter.
"Next time, Box Turtle," Snapping Turtle roared, "you will sing ‘Snapping Turtle is brave and cleans up all the villages wherever he goes.’ I don’t want you to sing that I get my people thrown into a sack. It is a bad song. Instead, sing that I am the one who makes a clean, sweep wherever he goes, and throws the enemy into hysterics!"
Box Turtle, indignant and in pain, retorted, "I don’t want you people put in a sack. This is not my fault. I was asleep, and the dream I sang about came out that way. Who am I to control my dreams?"
Despite the internal conflict and the growing sense of unease, the turtle war party pressed on. Finally, they arrived at their destination: an Indian village, a settlement of mankind that represented the object of their collective anger. With a resounding war whoop, the turtles charged into the village, their slow but determined advance meant to instill fear in their enemies.
The reaction they received, however, was far from what they had anticipated. Instead of warriors brandishing weapons, they were met by women, who emerged from their wigwams, their faces etched with surprise and amusement. "Oh! Look at the turtles," they cried, their voices filled with a mixture of wonder and laughter.
The women, instead of fleeing in terror, ran towards their homes, returning moments later with sacks. They proceeded to scoop up the turtles, one by one, and deposit them into the sacks. Box Turtle, still recovering from his injury, had fallen behind the rest of the group. He watched helplessly as his comrades were captured, a grim confirmation of his prophetic dream.
One turtle, a Painted Turtle, possessed a shell adorned with vibrant red markings. His striking appearance caught the eye of one of the women, who, captivated by his beauty, hugged him close to her chest. In a moment of desperation, Painted Turtle bit her. Startled and in pain, the woman dropped him into the nearby water, allowing him to escape.
The remaining turtles, including the formidable Snapping Turtle, were taken captive. The women, angered by the bite inflicted by the Painted Turtle and by the audacity of the turtle attack, convened a council to determine the fate of their prisoners.
One woman suggested, "Let’s burn him to death, he is our enemy!" Snapping Turtle, hearing this, secretly thought, "That will be good!"
However, another member of the council countered, "No, he would like that! He thinks that he will be able to kick the fire all over and thus destroy our lodges."
Another proposed, "Let’s shoot him with arrows!" Snapping Turtle, again, feigned enthusiasm, "Oh yes, that is the best way to kill me!"
"No," the council decided, "The arrows will bounce off your shell, and others might be hurt."
A third woman suggested, "Let’s boil him in a big clay pot!" Snapping Turtle responded, "I would be glad to die that way!"
"No," announced the council, "He thinks that he will be able to spatter boiling water over us, and scald us to death."
Finally, one woman declared, "In that case, let us throw him in the river!"
At these words, Snapping Turtle and all his followers began to plead for mercy, begging not to be drowned. They claimed that this was an awful punishment. The women, believing that they had finally struck upon a method that would truly torment their captives, tossed every turtle into the river.
Of course, the turtles, being aquatic creatures, were perfectly at home in the water. They quickly escaped, their supposed punishment turning into a triumphant liberation. However, their act of war had consequences. The turtles, now harboring a grudge against the women, began to pester them by fouling the fresh springs where they went to collect water.
The men of the Indian village, initially skeptical of their wives’ claims about the turtles, eventually witnessed the truth firsthand. They observed a large group of turtles basking in the sun on a log, a clear indication that the turtles had indeed survived their supposed drowning. The people learned a valuable lesson: turtles cannot be drowned.
After their escape, the turtles held a great victory dance at Snapping Turtle’s house. The Painted Turtle was celebrated as a hero for his bravery in biting one of the women, securing his own freedom and contributing to their escape.
Turtle Goes to War and the aftermath left a lasting impact on the turtle community. The relationship between Snapping Turtle and Box Turtle was irrevocably damaged, and they refused to live in the same area as each other. The story serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked anger, the importance of heeding omens, and the unpredictable nature of warfare, even when waged by turtles. This is the true story of Turtle Goes to War.
This is the tale of Turtle Goes to War.