It was true. There was a real turtle resting upon the sand in a shallow place in the water. His head and his four paws were projecting out of his shell, and his long, pointed tail, like a rudder, floated in the water behind.
“Yes,” said Lucy. “I see him. I see his head.”
“Now, Lucy,” said Royal, “we must not let him get away. We must make a pen for him. I can make a pen. You stay here and watch him, while I go and get ready to make a pen.”
“How can you make it?” said Lucy.
“O, you’ll see,” said Royal; and he took up his hatchet, which he had before laid down upon the grass, and went into the bushes, and began cutting, as if he was cutting some of them down.
Lucy remained some time watching the turtle. He lay quite still, with his head partly out of the water. The sun shone upon the place, and perhaps that was the reason why he remained so still; for turtles are said to like to bask in the beams of the sun.
After a time, Royal came to the place with an armful of stakes, about three feet long. He threw them down upon the bank, and then began to look around for a suitable place to build his pen. He chose, at last, a place in the water, near the shore. The water there was not deep, and the bottom was sandy.
“This will be a good place,” he said to Lucy. “I will make his pen here.”
“How are you going to make it?” said Lucy.
“Why, I am going to drive these stakes down in a kind of a circle, so near together that he can’t get out between them; and they are so tall that I know he can’t get over.”