128 
ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 
But the distance to the landing was too 
great to be covered by one man carrying sucli 
a weight, and the problem was solved by 
relaying from the shoulders of one man to 
another. By this method we were able to 
progress about three times as fast as when 
the animal was carried between the two poles. 
In the dark we followed no trail, nor was 
there one to follow. We plunged downward 
and onward, over rocks, through thorns and 
briers, swearing sometimes softly, and at other 
times loudly and more to the purpose. Each 
step had to be carefully gauged, as the rocks 
were sharp, very insecurely laid, and weight 
placed upon an insecure stone meant a dis¬ 
lodging of the rock and a consequent violent 
displacement of the center of gravity of the 
displacer. 
Every hundred yards we exchanged the 
shoulder load, and every hundred yards we 
remarked upon the unpleasant elephant-like 
odor of our cargo. Every hundred yards and 
also in between we were reminded by the 
gurgling of the water within the tortoise of 
the emptiness of our canteens. This liquid 
noise brought forth visions of cold, tall glasses, 
with clinking ice and amber fluids. 
Eventually the end of the trail was reached. 
We refreshed ourselves by a swim in the cold 
dark waters of the Pacific and bathed our¬ 
selves internally with smoky-tasting water from 
the lifeboat barrel. Then the boat was made 
ready. 
On the way back to the Noma, under the 
brilliant equatorial star-lit sky, the tortoise 
was assigned to the small rowboat that was 
towed behind the launch. The odor had 
become too much for us, and this unpleasant¬ 
ness was wafted away from us on our journey. 
Sad to relate, the tortoise did not live long 
enough to reach the Zoological Park. A week 
after her capture she died, demonstrating by her 
death that the racial stamina of her species is 
more or less exhausted. But a useful purpose 
is still in sight for this latest tortoise from 
the Galapagos Islands, and within a habitat 
group at the American Museum of Natural 
History her shell, representing the species 
Testudo ephippium, will be seen upholding the 
honor of a glorious race of animals, a race 
now about to disappear. 
| ; 
a7 J 
“MISTER, TAKE OUR PITCHER.” 
It was a silent but eloquent audience and its appeal was mutely and sweetly made. Absorbed in the antics of 
a savage mule deer and the perspiring efforts of the photographer, these little Bronx fledglings were unconsci¬ 
ously gratified. The excitement over, the rather blase young shepherd gathered his flock and disappeared. 
Photograph by Elwin R. Sanborn. 
