Sudden from the slimy bottom Was the snout again upreared, With a snap as loud as thunder,-- And the Slingsby disappeared. Like a mighty steam-ship foundering, Down the monstrous vision sank; And the ripple, slowly rolling, Plashed and played upon the bank. Still and stiller grew the water, Hushed the canes within the brake; There was but a kind of coughing At the bottom of the lake. Bryant wept as loud and deeply As a father for a son-- "He's a finished 'coon, is Slingsby, And the brandy's nearly done!" FYTTE SECOND. In a trance of sickening anguish, Cold and stiff, and sore and damp, For two days did Bryant linger By the dreary Swindle Swamp; Always peering at the water, Always waiting for the hour When those monstrous jaws should open As he saw them ope before. Still in vain;--the alligators Scrambled through the marshy brake, And the vampire leeches gaily Sucked the garfish in the lake. But the Snapping Turtle never Rose for food or rose for rest, Since he lodged the steel deposit In the bottom of his chest. Only always from the bottom Sounds of frequent coughing rolled, Just as if the huge Cawana Had a most confounded cold. On the banks lay Cullen Bryant, As the second moon arose, Gouging on the sloping greensward Some imaginary foes; When the swamp began to tremble, And the canes to rustle fast, As though some stupendous body Through their roots were crushing past. And the waters boiled and bubbled, And, in groups of twos and threes, Several alligators bounded, Smart as squirrels, up the trees. Then a hideous head was lifted, With such huge distended jaws, That they might have held Goliath Quite as well as Rufus Dawes. Paws of elephantine thickness Dragged its body from the bay, And it glared at Cullen Bryant In a most unpleasant way. Then it writhed as if in torture, And it staggered to and fro; And its very shell was shaken In the anguish of its throe: And its cough grew loud and louder, And its sob more husky thick! For, indeed, it was apparent That the beast was very sick. Till, at last, a spasmy vomit Shook its carcass through and through, And as if from out a cannon, All in armour Slingsby flew. Bent and bloody was the bowie Which he held within his grasp; And he seemed so much exhausted That he scarce had strength to gasp-- "Gouge him, Bryant! darn ye, gouge him! Gouge him while he's on the shore!" Bryant's thumbs were straightway buried Where no thumbs had pierced before. Right from out their bony sockets Did he scoop the monstrous balls; And, with one convulsive shudder, Dead the Snapping Turtle falls! * * * * * "Post the tin, sagacious Tyler!" But the old experienced file, Leering first at Clay and Webster, Answered, with a quiet smile-- "Since you dragged the 'tarnal crittur From the bottom of the ponds, Here's the hundred dollars due you, _All in Pennsylvanian Bonds_!" {44}