waters? 
every sandy slope. The mother turtle 
does not seem to take any precaution 
to hide her nursery. 
A® the turtles all seem to be large, 
that is to say they all measure 
from ten to eighteen inches across the 
shell and have the appearance of great 
wisdom, I deduct that they must all be 
very old. Where the young and flighty 
flapper turtles stay is an enigma to me. 
Also, why do the old males spend their 
centuries of life.in the slimy ooze of 
the muddy coves when there is plenty 
of sun and air and food in the clearer 
Dear knows the whole blame 
family is quick enough with darting, 
ugly head and vise-like jaws to snap 
-up any minnow that may swim within 
j 
1 

"reach. 
to the mud-turtle. 
And they are so nearly the 
color of either a stony or gravel bottom 
that any poor fish might be deceived. 
Referring to their jaws, the old mam- 
my turtles surely have dispositions that 
go with their hideous physiognomy and 
wicked little eyes. As before suggested, 
there is a riddle of personality attached 
The female will 
spend hours off shore reconnoitering 
with her nose and eyes just above 
water, a mere speck on the surface, 
| drifting most unostentatiously toward 
the coveted sand patch, so shy that the 
least movement on shore will cause her 
to duck, which maneuver will be ac- 
complished without a ripple; then at 
the propitious moment she will make a 
lumbering dash for the sand spot and 
start an excavation. If disturbed while 
sinking the shaft, away she will waddle 

for the protective water; but if the egg- 
laying has begun she will stay right 
with it like any lady should; in fact 
she will open her mouth and bite your 
hand off if you try to render any assis- 
tance or commit any nuisance. If you 

persist in obstetrical advances she will 
ee ee igi Sets oS 

And this is the way a turtle turns over. 
leave her perfectly obvious duty and 
raise right up on the end of her in- 
dignant toes and make for you at a 
surprisingly fast run, mouth snapping 
and frothing like that of a mad dog. 
And she can bite a stick as big as a 
cane into two pieces. 
The confidence with 
which the old lady will 
charge under the above 
circumstances makes it 
quite apparent that she 
is well aware of her 
biting prowess. She is 
not a bit of a hypocrite. 
She makes no pretense 
that she is approaching 
for a _ congratulatory 
kiss; neither does she 
appear to wish to be 
hugged; quite the con- 
trary. She is sore and 
wants you to take the 
fact with due seriousness. You have 
‘disturbed an important biological man- 
ifestation. Here she has been prepar- 
ing for a whole year to deposit a basket 
of dainties, some dozens of fresh eggs, 
for the skunks and mink and squirrels 
and mice and bears and martens and 

She makes for you like a mad dog, mouth frothing. 

Turtle eggs compared in 
size to a watch. 
crows to feast upon, and a two-legged 
butinsky crowds right into the picture 
at the most imminent risk of causing 
every egg to have a bad disposition, 
and commits all sorts of impertinent 
familiarities. She is most ardently 
willing to tell the cold world that 
it is simply atrocious! 
And fight! Say, she 
will try to lick the 
world if you’ll just 
bring it along! And 
she does not bar her 
own kind. I have taken 
pictures of female tur- 
tles in deadly combat. 
They will fight each 
other with the primal 
savagery of bull dogs. 
They hang on like a 
bull dog when they get 
a strategic hold. 
I gathered a large 
batch of these laboring reptiles and put 
them into a big box together. It was 
a battle royal of caged tigers! No 
holds were barred. They fought for 
hours but did not seem to pull each 
other to pieces very much, nor did the 
fray seem to hurry other matters as 
it might be presumed to do with such 
temperamental and expectant ladies. In 
fact, there were but few scars. When I 
tipped over the arena away waddled 
the late antagonists for the lake to 
await a more auspicious occasion for 
parturition. 
The next day they were back again 
on the same sand pile. 
But I was writing of turtle soup. 
NE day I shot a large turtle 
through the head as it lay basking 
on the surface of the lake. I did this 
with the avowed purpose of making 
turtle soup, but when I had barely be- 
gun the butchering process I found my- 
self so involved in a strange anatomy 
that I decided to desist. It seemed too 
(Continued on page 372) 
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