Coyote Peterson’s Brave Adventures. Coyote Peterson

me out into the deeper water. I was nearly waist deep and panic was beginning to set in.

      “What if this turtle drags me under… what if it turns around and bites me… what if it EATS ME?”

      I can tell you this much, snapping turtles don’t eat humans.

      But at eight years old, anything is possible in your imagination. I held on with all my might, my hands fighting to keep their grasp on its slippery algae-covered shell. The creature’s clawed feet fought against me, sending waves of water into my face while its massive head twisted and reared around as it relentlessly tried to bite me. The battle was on, and I dug my sock-covered feet into the mud… I had reached the point of no return!

      Just another couple steps forward and I was going to be in over my head – but a couple steps backward and I would have a chance of dragging this ancient looking beast up and out of the ooze. With teeth clenched, I pulled with all my might, slipping in the mud and water. Finally, I gained my footing, and in that instant the turtle’s head rose to the surface, its jaws open wide. The beast turned and looked right at me with its golden diamond eyes, the most beautiful yet terrifying thing I had ever seen, as it hissed something awful. The smell of death plumed from its gut, the remains of countless fish and frogs reaching my nostrils and sending my head back with a jolt. It might as well have been a fireball from the belly of a mythological dragon. It was so disarming that I nearly lost my grip.

      This was the moment I had been dreaming of, face-to-face with a real life, modern-day DRAGON! I refused to let go.

      ‘PULL COYOTE… PUUUULLLLL!’

      I took a step back, and the turtle lunged, causing me to slip and collapse onto a single knee.

      ‘DON’T LET GO!’

      I stood back up… and pulled again, one more step toward the shore. Sweat mixed with mud ran down my forehead and into my eyes. I shut the left one and winced in pain at the fiery sting. My mind screamed, “Sweat and mud will not defeat me today!”

      Another strong pull and another few inches gained. This was a literal tug-of-war against, pound for pound, one of the most powerful reptiles in the world, and somehow I was winning! My toes dug into the mud through my socks, and I put every ounce of strength I had into another pull… the turtle’s shell was now completely visible, its massive prehistoric tail covered in mud and glistening in the setting sunlight.

      I could not believe it – there it was right before my very eyes.

      “The Dragon is Real!”

      After a final pull, I could feel my feet on solid ground, the turtle still clutched in my hands as its dagger-like claws sliced through the mud, attempting an escape. One more step back and the meadow grasses began pricking at my legs. Then, by some miracle of eight-year-old strength, I heaved the giant turtle up and onto the embankment. The Dragon had been landed!

      Wide eyed, I stared right into the face of a 50-pound Common Snapping Turtle. With its mouth agape, exposing its fleshy pink tongue, I realized that its bolt-cutter-like jaws were wide enough to fit my entire forearm. It was an unbelievably impressive animal who with a single bite could have easily taken my hand; so I wisely kept a safe distance, preventing a possible strike.

      The animal was dripping with thick mud and looked as if it had just been unburied from the time of the dinosaurs. My eyes had never seen anything so incredible… so prehistoric. Admiring its inch-long claws and scale-covered forearms, I stared down the length of its dome-like shell, which was alive with squirming leeches. I then walked around behind it to admire the saw-like ridge of the shell which I had so desperately clutched. The tail curled alongside its body was massive, at least a foot in length; it was the closest thing to a living dinosaur that I had ever seen. I flexed my hands and stretched my fingers; they were sore, exhausted, and battle-worn. The mud beneath my fingernails had been driven so deep that they throbbed in pain, while the laceration from the dragon’s claws spilled blood down my thumb and onto the golden grasses around me.

      I was exhausted, covered in mud, and standing bootless. The sun was quickly disappearing behind the trees, but I didn’t care. I collapsed to the ground and sat a couple feet from the turtle. In that moment of truce its mouth closed and its body relaxed. We both calmed our breathing and stared at each other with bewildered eyes; mine infatuated with his elegance and perfection, his probably with the thought of…

      “How in the world did this little kid ever catch me?!”

      The turtle then exhaled again, the sound resonating deep in my chest as the beast then lifted its massive body up off the ground and onto all four feet. It startled me. I had never seen a turtle walk like that before, and I shuffled backward a few feet in the grass. The Dragon slowly turned back toward the lake, telling me it was time to return. I watched as he slid down the embankment and splashed into the water. I stood up, and as I did the giant turned his head back and looked right at me, those golden diamond eyes, as ancient as I had always imagined they would be, looking right into mine and saying…

      “Well done, you actually did it.”

      In what seemed like slow motion, it slogged into the water, and I watched while the mud swallowed its shadow as the turtle disappeared back into the abyss.

      Twilight had passed, the meadow was growing dark and as I stood there soaking wet with mud and sweat, I looked down at my bloodied hand to admire the would-be scar that the Dragon had bestowed upon me. A smile beamed across my face, and in that moment, I knew that I wanted nothing more in my life than to get up close with as many animals as I could.

      I turned toward home and began to make my way back through the meadow. It took me all summer, but I had finally done it, I had caught The Dragon. And while no one was around to witness my incredible triumph, I just hoped that my mom would believe the incredible reason why I was coming home… without my boots.

       Chapter 2

       Rogue Buffalo

      One of the greatest things about being 15 years old is that you feel as if you are old enough and brave enough to do anything. This is the mindset which propelled me forward as I continued my search for incredible animal encounters into my early teens.

      Worn leather hiking boots laced tightly to my feet matted down tall yellow prairie grasses as I veered off trail and began to explore a world that I had never imagined I would set eyes upon. Welcome to Wyoming, one of the most epic wilderness landscapes in North America, where massive white clouds roll across an endless sky and distant mountains paint the horizon like jagged teeth breaking out of the earth’s surface.

      For a moment, I stopped and closed my eyes to soak in this untamed beauty. A gentle wind caused the long flowing grasses to dance as my outstretched fingertips touched their feathery tufts, reminding me of the serenity of nature. I was in complete and total harmony with my surroundings; I was at peace.

      As I slowly opened my eyes, a smile cracked upon my face; this was about to be one epic adventure, yet in that moment I had no idea that it might also be my last.

      My Mom and younger sister were back at our base camp, where our metallic silver 1988 Chevy Suburban was parked in the shade of