Turtle-turning 



full moon shone in a cloudless sky, and the sea 

 was as smooth as a mill-pond. Walking along 

 a beach above high-tide mark, we sat down to 

 await developments. 



Presently a dark form emerged from what 

 little surf broke upon the beach, and made its 

 way laboriously towards us. This was a cow 

 turtle. We had to be patient until she had 

 performed her maternal duties, when we meant 

 to intercept her as she returned to the sea. 

 After what seemed to me an eternity, but what 

 in reality must have been less than an hour, a 

 movement seaward on the turtle's part prompted 

 my companion to run towards her. The gait of 

 the creature was so slow and leisurely that it 

 was not difficult to stop her well above high- 

 water mark. 



The marine seized one fore flipper and slipped 

 a noose round the shoulder of same, and putting 

 another noose, formed in the other end of the 

 rope, on the other flipper, tied them, as tight as 

 he could pull, across the turtle's back. Then 

 with a big heave he succeeded in turning her on 

 to her back, twisting her sideways once or twice 

 in order to make a trough in the sand, which 

 would fit her shell. Finding a large stone he 

 put a piece of old canvas on it, and laid the 

 turtle's head on the stone as a sort of pillow. I 

 understood that if this rite was omitted a turtle 

 would suffocate. 



F 65 



