178 THE INHABITANTS OF THE SEA. 



The wild sand coast of Bantam (Java) is annually frequented 

 by a large number of turtles. They are often obliged to creep 

 over nearly a quarter of a mile of the beach, before finding at 

 the foot of the sand-dunes a dry and loose soil fit for their pur- 

 pose ; and on this journey, which for them is a very long one, they 

 have many dangers to encounter. Hundreds of their skeletons 

 lie scattered about the strand, many of them five feet long, and 

 three feet broad ; some bleached and cleaned by time, others still 

 half filled with putrid intestines, and others, again, quite fresh 

 and bleeding. High in the air a number of birds of prey wheel 

 about, scared by the traveller's approach. Here is the place 

 where the turtles are attacked by the wild dogs. In packs of 

 from twenty to fifty, the growling rabble assails the poor aea- 

 ftnimal at every accessible point, gnaws and tugs at the feet and 

 at the head, and succeeds by united efforts in turning the huge 

 creature upon its back. Then the abdominal scales are torn off, 

 and the ravenous dogs hold a bloody meal on the flesh, intestines, 

 and eggs of their defenceless prey. Sometimes, however, the 

 turtle escapes their rage, and dragging its lacerating tormentors 

 along with it, succeeds in regaining the friendly sea. Nor 

 do the dogs always enjoy an undisturbed repast. Often 

 during the night, the " lord of the wilderness," the royal tiger, 

 bursts out of the forest, pauses for a moment, casts a glance over 

 the htrand, approaches slowly, and then with one bound, accom- 

 panied by a terrific roar, springs among the dogs, scattering 

 the howling band like chaff before the wind. And now it is 

 the tiger's turn to feast, but even he, though rarely, is sometimes 

 disturbed by man. Thus, on this lonely, melancholy coast, wild 

 dogs and tigers wage an unequal war with the inhabitants of the 

 ocean. 



The cold-blooded turtle is obliged to confide the hatching of 

 her eggs to the sun, which generally accomplishes the task in three 

 weeks. On creeping out of the egg, the young, even those of 

 the largest species, are not larger than half-a- crown and of a 

 white colour. Unprotected by a parent's tenderness, the poor 

 little creatures seem only to be born for immediate death. Their 

 first instinctive movements are towards the element for which 

 they are destined; slowly they drag themselves towards the 

 water, but the sea meets them with a rough embrace, and the 



