On the small islands of Talong, on the coast of Borneo, Mr. Brooke had an opportunity of seeing a turtle deposit its eggs. When on the sand it wandered from place to place, and tried several by digging a little, apparently rejecting them as unfit. At length, having made its choice, it buried its nose, and began scooping the sand with its hinder feet in a most deliberate and easy manner, throwing the sand to a considerable distance. It often stopped in its work and recommenced, and so dug till the body was pretty well buried, and the hole a depth of three or more feet. It then took its station over the hole and began to lay its eggs, which it did at intervals for a length of time, to the number of two hundred and thirty, and all the while was perfectly indifferent to the proximity of numerous spectators. Having deposited the eggs, it filled the hole with its hinder fins, and beat down the sand both on the spot and all around, and then retired, not directly (for the track would have been a guide to the nest), but in numerous tortuous courses, round and round, and finally took its departure for the sea at a point distant from its eggs. The Malays on watch have small sticks with flags on them, and as each turtle deposits its eggs they mark the spot with one of these, and the following morning take the eggs. With all their vigilance, however, numbers escape their observation, and some nests they purposely spare.
Similar scenes take place during the dry season throughout the whole of the tropical zone, on every sandy, unfrequented coast: for the same instinct which prompts the salmon to swim stream-upwards, the cod to seek elevated submarine banks, or the penguin to leave the high seas and settle for the summer on some dreary rock, attracts also the turtles from distances of fifty or sixty leagues to the shores of desert islands or solitary bays.
The enemies of the marine chelonians are no less numerous than those of the terrestrial or fluviatile species. While the full-grown turtles, as soon as they leave the water, are exposed to the attacks of many ravenous beasts, from the wild dog to the tiger or jaguar; storks, herons, and other strand- or sea-birds devour thousands upon thousands of the young before they reach the ocean, where sharks and other greedy fishes still further thin their ranks, so that but very few escape from the general massacre, and the whole race can only maintain itself by its great fecundity.
Of all the foes of the turtle-tribe there is, however, none more formidable than man, as even on the most lonely islands the seafarer lies in wait for them, eager to relieve the monotony of his coarse fare by an abundant supply of their luscious flesh.
On the isle of Ascension, the head-quarters of the finest turtle in the world, all the movements of the poor creatures are carefully watched, and when, after having deposited their eggs in the sand, they waddle again towards the sea, their retreat is often intercepted, for two stout hands running up to the unfortunate turtle after the completion of her task, one seizes a fore-flipper and dexterously shoves it under her belly to serve as a purchase; whilst the other, avoiding a stroke which might lame him, cants her over on her back, where she lies helpless. From fifteen to thirty are thus turned in a night. In the bays, when the surf or heavy rollers prevent the boats being beached to take on board the turtles when caught, they are hauled out to them by ropes.
In former times, as long as the island had neither master nor inhabitants, every ship’s crew that landed helped itself to as many turtles as it could catch; but since England has taken possession of the island, turtle-turning has been converted into a Government monopoly. They are kept in two large enclosures near the sea, which flows in and out, through a breakwater of large stones. A gallows is erected between the two ponds, where the turtles are slaughtered for shipping, by suspending them by the hind-flippers and then cutting their throats. Often above 300 turtles, of 400 lbs. and 500 lbs. each, are lying on the sand or swimming about in the ponds—a fine sight for an alderman.
The way by which the turtles are most commonly taken at the Bahama Islands is by striking them with a small iron peg of two inches long, put in a socket at the end of a staff of twelve feet long. Two men usually set out for this work in a canoe, one to row and gently steer the boat, while the other stands at the end of it with his weapon. The turtles are sometimes discovered by their swimming with their head and back out of the water, but they are more often seen lying at the bottom a fathom or more deep. If a turtle perceives he is discovered, he starts up to make his escape; the men in the boat, pursuing him, endeavour to keep sight of him, which they often lose and recover again by the turtle putting his nose out of the water to breathe.
On Keeling Island, Mr. Darwin witnessed another highly interesting method of catching turtle.
‘I accompanied Captain Fitzroy to an island at the head of the lagoon,’ says the eminent naturalist; ‘the channel was exceedingly intricate, winding through fields of delicately-branched corals. We saw several turtles, and two boats were then employed in catching them. The method is rather curious: the water is so clear and shallow that, although at first a turtle quickly dives out of sight, yet in a canoe, or boat under sail, the pursuers, after no very long chase, come up to it. A man, standing ready in the bows, at this moment dashes through the water upon the turtle’s back; then clinging with both hands by the shell of the neck, he is carried away till the animal becomes exhausted and is secured. It was quite an interesting chase to see the two boats thus doubling about, and the men dashing into the water trying to seize their prey.’
