to dig. It looked like hard work to Sam. Soon Dad was pulling small white clams the size of little cookies from the mud at the edges of the hole. Sam helped, squatting on his heels and picking out clams. In a nearby pool of water, Sam swished the mud from the clams and put them carefully in the bottom of the bucket, so as not to crack their shells. They seemed awfully little to Sam, but he knew they would be just right for chowder. He worked quietly alongside Dad until the big bucket was almost full.
I would like, thought Sam, to find a very large clam.
He looked up and down the beach. His gaze fell on the farthest dry island.
“I’m going to try digging by that island,” Sam announced to his dad. Surely I can find a very large clam way out there, he thought to himself. No one digs there, and I bet the clams grow huge.
Dad laid down his shovel and looked at his watch.
“You’d best be quick about it, Sam,” said Dad. “In fifteen minutes the tide will be turning to come in. Do you see that big rock there, the one with the driftwood log next to it?”
Sam nodded.
“Don’t go past that rock, and make sure you keep an eye on the water. Okay?”
“Sure thing, Dad,” replied Sam, as he tossed his digging spade in his bucket and scampered off down the beach. Neptune ran along beside him.
The receding tide had left pools of water, and Sam and Neptune splashed through just about all of them. A tiny ripple in one pool caught Sam’s eye: it was a wriggling eel! The slippery eel was impossible to catch as it slid through Sam’s fingers.
Just wait until I get my hands on a very large clam, thought Sam. I won’t let him get away.
Sam turned over a rock in another pool and peeled off an orange starfish. Thousands of clear tube-legs waved gently in the air. He looked for a giant clam in the mud under the rock, but all he saw was a baby crab. He picked it up carefully and held it out to Neptune.
“Careful, girl—it’s just a baby, but I’ll bet it could still pinch your nose,” Sam warned the sniffing dog. “Don’t worry. Clams don’t have pinchers.”
Sam wandered from pool to pool, finding squishy nudibranchs, spiny sea urchins, and brittle sea stars. But no large clam.
Under every rock and strand of kelp was a new and glistening treasure. Sam passed the big rock and the driftwood log without even noticing them.
When would he find that clam?
Just as he was about to give up, Sam saw something near the last island. It was a huge stream of water shooting up from the mud like a geyser.
“Look, Neptune!” cried Sam, jumping up and down with excitement. “Could that be the squirt of a very large clam?”
Wrestling the Monster Clam
Sam grabbed his digging spade and raced to the spot. As he stepped on the soft mud next to the clam hole, another geyser shot up. Whooosh!
“Yeee-ha!!” hollered Sam. “This must be the king of all clams!”
Sam dug quickly. Neptune stood on her hind legs and snapped at the flying mud. The tip of Sam’s spade struck something hard.
Could it be?
But it was only a rock. Sam pried the rock out and kept digging. He hit another rock, and another, and another. Sam’s arms were getting tired. As he dug, cold seawater seeped into the hole, making it even harder.
Would he never find this monster clam?
Finally, Sam’s spade scraped something … it felt like the edge of …
… another rock? More water gurgled into the hole and the soft muddy sides started to cave in. Sam scooped out the icy water as fast as he could. He wouldn’t give up now. He was too close.
He found the hard object again. It was the edge of … dig, dig, dig … the shell of … dig, dig, dig … oh, my goodness … A VERY LARGE CLAM!
Sam threw down his spade and began digging out sand with his hands. He knew that the shell would break if he were careless and hit it too hard with the spade. Breaking the shell of a clam would kill it, and Sam knew that dead clams are not safe to eat. Besides, how could he show off a broken shell to Melody Chambers?
He sat back on his heels to rest a moment. Sweat was pouring off him now. Even with the shell still partly buried, Sam could tell that this was the biggest clam he had ever seen. Neptune whined in his ear.
“Settle down, girl. We’ve almost got him.”
Finally he was able to get his hands around the clam and pull. It didn’t budge. The suction of the mud was too strong.
Neptune whined again and nudged Sam’s arm with her nose. Sam pushed her away.
He gently worked the tip of his digging spade under the clam and pried up carefully. He scraped a little and pried a little. He scraped and pried a bit more, and then …
Sshhl-l-u-c-k! The clam popped loose with a big smacking noise. Sam lost his balance and fell down suddenly—kerplop—into the wet kelp. There, cradled in his hands like a muddy jewel was …
A VERY LARGE CLAM!
It was bigger than his hand.
It was bigger than both his hands cupped together.
It was even bigger than the foot of Sam’s boot!
Sam stood up triumphantly and said, “Come on, girl. We’d better get going. The tide will be coming in soon …”
But Neptune was gone.
As Sam turned toward shore, he saw his bucket float by. The big rock and the driftwood log were gone, covered by fast-rising water. The water was now between him and the shore.
Oh no! thought Sam, I’m trapped!
Stranded!
Sam took a few steps toward shore. His boot sank in the soft muck and wouldn’t budge. Bone-freezing water poured over the top and ran down inside, soaking his sock! Sam yanked his leg as hard as he could. Out popped his bare foot, his sock left behind in the stuck boot.
Just as Sam was about to panic, he heard Neptune. She was standing on the third hump, which was now an island completely surrounded by water, and she was barking at him frantically!
“There you are, girl!” Sam said with relief as he wallowed toward the island. Barnacles and broken shells stabbed at his bare foot, but he was too scared to stop. Finally, he fell exhausted onto the beach next to his dog.
He caught his breath and glanced around. To his great dismay, he realized they were stranded!
Sam looked across the rushing water to the shore. He saw the tiny figure of his father, bent over his clam hole. Sam cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled,
“H-e-l-p … Da-a-d … He-e-l-p!”
Nothing.
He might as well have whispered. The