The Box Turtles 



The Box Turtle is a strictly terrestrial reptile and its habits 

 tally closely with those of the true tortoises, although it is of a 

 wandering disposition and does not dig permanent burrows. 

 It is most abundant in situations where open, grassy spots alter- 

 nate in sparse thickets. The food consists largely of vegetable 

 matter and berries, though the larvae of insects are eaten as 

 well as earthworms and slugs. During the periods when black- 

 berries ripen many specimens show unmistakable evidences of 

 feasting by their stained mandibles and forefeet. 



Like other terrestrial chelonians, the Box Turtle lives to a 

 great age. It is difficult to explain the exact duration of life 

 of this species, but examples have thrived for ten or fifteen 

 years in captivity, that were old and worn quite smooth when 

 captured. 



A curious and interesting specimen was found several years 

 from the time of writing, in Virginia. The writer had been 

 roaming over the beautiful farmlands that once constituted 

 the battlefields of Bull Run and Groveton. He had stopped 

 to examine a noble tree, gnarled in many places from the old 

 wounds of a heavy shell-fire. The tree stood on a knoll near 

 Groveton and had been in the centre of a shower of lead and 

 iron hail during the stormy days of war. On two occasions 

 had the opposing armies swept over this pretty country to the 

 tune of cannon and musketry and many trees beside the one 

 that had particularly engaged the writer's attention, showed 

 battle scars. 



These few descriptive words are in strict accordance with 

 a turtle that drew the writer's attention, as it emitted a sudden 

 hiss and closed its shell tightly at his approach. It was a very 

 old specimen, with a dull, lustreless shell. Across its back was 

 a deep furrow, healed by many years. So deeply did this pen- 

 etrate into the creature's shell that the original injury must 

 have penetrated to the very edge of the reptile's vitals, yet a 

 wonderful tenacity of life and great reconstructive power had 

 permitted the turtle to so heal the wound as to partially cover 

 the deep tear with a rough, bony growth. Along the edges of 

 the shell were other indentations, which had healed in the same 

 manner. Who can dispute the very plausible theory, that nearly 

 forty years before, during a human exchange of metal animosities, 

 this reptile was struck by a flying minie ball that tore the furrow 



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