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 nippers, 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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