14 
NATURE NOTES 
the apparently lifeless creature (whose movements an instant before had excited 
his curiosity), as though trying to convince himself that there was more in it than 
at that present moment appeared. Once we came on the scene just as the dog 
had seized the tortoise by one leg and was dumping him down on the grass, with 
the evident intention of shaking out the head. A well-merited chastisement given 
there and then in no wise cured the dog’s inquisitiveness, but time and a better 
acquaintance reconciled both creatures, until dog and tortoise would lie down 
together in the garden in quite a friendly way. A tortoise in the garden is 
somewhat of a trial. He is a vegetarian connoisseur, and above all things revels 
in a salad of young ten-week stocks when they are full of promise and from four 
to six inches high. To see a tortoise pat down one of these plants, hold the stem 
under his right front foot, while he deliberately, and without apparent haste, 
demolishes the tender leaves, is a revelation. Sunflower seedlings he also 
patronises, and it is most exasperating to find gaunt, spectre-like stalks where a 
few hours previously sturdy young plants had been. If the delinquent were a 
George Washington, or some other specimen of the small boy oider, meritorious 
punishment could be meted out ; but what can one do with a tortoise? 
All kinds of fruit are agreeable to his palate : apples, tomatoes, bananas, 
oranges, are all grist when they come to his mill. Green gooseberries he is very- 
fond of, but these being hard and round are difficult for him to bite, though if the 
berries be broken he can manage them quite well. Young peas he does not 
disdain, but prefers them boiled ; and ripe strawberries he revels in. After a feed 
of strawberries it is quite amusing to watch him trying to clear his beak of juicy 
particles which have adhered. He objects to a soiled beak, and makes spasmodic 
thrusts at it, first with one front foot and then with the other, until one feels 
almost inclined obligingly to offer him a cambric pocket-handkerchief. 
We found several thin scaly plates from the shell of the large tortoise lying 
about in the garden during the summer, so conclude that this is the way tortoises 
shed their skin — presuming that the outside of the shell is the hardened epidermis. 
Early in the afternoons, during the summer, Yacob walks off to the same spot, 
year by year, a spot he hollowed out between the garden palings and a lilac bush, 
and retires for the night. Yacob’s side of the garden faces the setting sun, while 
the baby tortoise seemingly prefers his nook among the ivy, to catch the first rays 
of the morning sun. One reads that tortoises can live a very long time without 
food. This is true, but from experience we find it a good plan to give them a 
little warm milk when they wake up, as they often do for days together during 
the winter months. The milk seems to help them to sleep again, and when they 
finally rouse themselves in the spring they are less feeble and less apt to succumb, 
as they often do during the month or two following hibernation. 
People tell us they cannot get their tortoises to touch anything during the 
winter, while others affirm that they have kept a tortoise for such and such a 
time, but that it has never eaten anything and does not seem likely to begin. 
This means that at no very distant date the tortoise will die. This we know from 
our own experience. When we give our tortoises milk during hibernating time 
we gently press the head down into the liquid until the beak is covered. At first 
there is a splutter and splash, but a little patience, and a movement along the 
gullet may be noticed, followed by the disappearance of the milk. A little luke- 
warm milk with soaked bread should be given them when they leave their 
hibernacle in the spring and be continued day by day, until vegetation is sufti- 
ciently advanced to allow them to feed on it alone. Of course, in their natural 
habitat they can fend all the year long for themselves, but by February, in 
Morocco, for instance, the spring is well advanced and vegetation abundant, 
whereas winter often lingers with us till well on in April. One winter we kept 
our tortoise in a wicker basket under the kitchen table. The lid was well 
strapped down, but every time there happened to be a larger fire than usual the 
tortoise would force up the lid and poke out his head, as though anxious to know 
if the exlia heat meant summer returned. We were often concerned lest he 
should decapitate himself. The rejicated awakening and the long fast made him 
so weak that when the spring came he was barely able to crawl about.' 
We have heard of tortoises being allowed as pets to children in fever hospitals, 
because they carry no infection as a dog or cat would do. We also hearri that 
a young doctor stood with all his weight on a tortoise, to show the little sick 
