The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 
After the great heat of the day it was delight- 
ful to lie on the sands, still warm to the touch. 
Although Ascension is close on the same degree 
of latitude as Calabar the heat is tempered by 
the trade winds, and it is quite possible to walk 
about with no other head-covering than a cap, 
whereas in Calabar a sun-helmet and white 
umbrella is a necessity. . 
We turned three more turtles on this beach, 
treating them in a similar manner to the first 
victim, and then went on to another stretch of 
sand. I was anxious to see the modus operandi 
of a turtle’s egg-laying, and the opportunity 
occurred within the next half-hour after our 
arrival. The wind—what there was of it—was 
blowing straight from the turtle to me, so I 
carefully stalked her until I was within thirty 
yards. When I started my stalk she had not 
arrived above high-water mark, and she halted 
two or three times during her journey, so that 
at every step I was fearful that she had seen me. 
By remaining very still, and advancing when 
she advanced, I was at last enabled to reach a 
spot almost within touching distance. 
First she scooped a shallow hollow for her 
body with her fore flippers, and being satisfied 
with this, proceeded to use her hind paddles 
exactly in the way that I should take up a 
handful of sand should I want to make a small, 
straight hole. The peculiarity in her method 
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